Anatomy of a Girl Gang (9781551525303) (11 page)

And you have no idea who it was?

She shrugged three times. Don't know. Don't know. So, whaddya say, honey? Do me a favour today, hon? I can pay you tomorrow, I promise. I swear to God. I just haven't worked yet today, you know, so … well, you know how it is! She scratched her stubbly head. Her hair had been shoulder-length, wavy, oil-slick black. She actually had real nice hair.
Please, Rachel?
With a cherry on top? I swear I'm good for it. Cross my heart, hope to
die. She crossed an X over her heart with her cigarette-stained fingers. You know I'm good for it!

Yeaah, I know. Hold on a sec, k? I'll check. I walked around the corner to where Mac was waitin for me, blowin smoke rings up to the skyscrapers. Mac, I know you said I can't never give credit, but I need to front Cindy today.

Her face went all serious and she smushed her cigarette into the sidewalk. Come on, Sly Girl—

Someone shaved off all her hair last night while she was sleepin.

Jesus
. Fuckin weirdo junkies. She spit into the gutter. What does she want?

Just a couple ten rocks.

She good for it?

Yeaah.

No, she's not, Sly. She's a crack whore, alright? She's good for nothing.

It's just that she's kind of—

What?

She's sorta … well, she's kinda a friend of mine. From before.

Mac sighed. Shook her head. Alright, just this once. Not again, okay? Not for her, not for anybody. She can't ask again. Tell her that. And if she doesn't pay, she's gonna get a lot worse than a shaved head. Tell her that too.

Okay. Thanks, Mac. As I watched Cindy hurry away, her bony shoulder blades poking out the back of her hoodie, I felt a fierce sadness rush into me. I'm not sure why, exactly. Maybe because I knew that, in a lot of ways, me and her are the same.

Z

my parentz rnt lettin me outta my room til i'm 30. dey took my fone! O GOD i mi$$ Mac $o BAD. Aaaahhhhh! im goin NUTZ!!! i havnt been out $ince i got picked up. my parentz R craZee, man. dey watchin me 24/7. think ima run away again which i M Bcuz di$ aint no kinda lyfe 4 Z up in here. cant do my aRt cant luv my luvr WTF!!???!!! dey $et an alarm @ nite so if i open a wyndO or door it goe$ off. how da FUCK M i gonna get outta here?

my $i$terz R fuckin a$$holes, man. dere all lyke, Where have you been, little missy? Getting high? Got a boyfriend now? Who's your boyfriend? What have you been doing? Hey? Hey? Dey poke me in da ribz, in da belly. tell me ima fat whore.

im lyke, $hut up U uglee bitchez. get back in yr ba$ement $uite. mind yr own.

1 $tudeez law & 1 iza web dvlpr. dey R twinz. i h8 dem both & dey have alwayz h8d me. dey tell me i wuz an aXident. dat i nevr $huda been born. da grrlz in da Black Roses R more $i$terly 2 me den my own $i$terz have evr been.

my parentz R gonna put me in coun$elling. i hafta do communitee $ervi$. pickin up $yringez & $hit off da street. $ICK!!! i'm gonna get AIDS!!! i gotta go 2 de$e weekly $e$huns da pigz put on about how vandalyzm hurtz evry1. im not $po$ed 2 have contact w/ NE of my crew & i gotta go back 2 HI$kewl. fuck it, my lyfe iz ovr.

KAYOS

I really can't stand going to high school for one more day. I mean, I know I'm smart. I don't need some piece-of-shit diploma to tell me that. I can't take it anymore. I just can't. It's all preps and jocks and nerds. There's no one like me. Everyone fucking sucks in that school, I swear to God. They think they're so important, that their lives are so dramatic, so interesting. God, spare me. Yo, I almost puked yesterday when I overheard these chicks in the bathroom talking about who they were going to the dance with and what they were gonna wear. I mean, this is their life: boys, clothes, makeup, and gossip. They're like straight outta
Seventeen Magazine
or some shit. Seriously. How can I possibly relate to that? I spend most of my time in the DTES selling drugs to strung-out junkies. When I'm not doing that, I'm pulling ATM scams or boosting. When I'm at home, I'm looking after my two-year-old kid and trying to avoid Roger. I don't belong in high school. I'm not going anymore. What's the point?

MERCY

This weekend I boosted around fifteen grand worth of merchandise. I have to admit, it did make me feel a little better. I got a ton of sick outfits for all the girls: shoes, boots, handbags, jackets, makeup. Not because we need any of that shit, but because every now and then it's nice to get dressed up. Feel a little bit special. I got books, magazines, iPods, CDs, DVDs. I got two digital cameras, a butterfly knife, a Swiss Army watch, a Swarovski crystal bracelet, silver bangles, gold hoop earrings—so much jewellery I could open a kiosk.

I'm not sure if we're going to keep it all or pawn some of it or what. We haven't decided yet. I think we should keep it, because for some reason, having nice stuff makes you feel better about yourself. I don't know why. It just does.

When I got home, I dumped it all in the middle of the floor. Kayos, Mac, and Sly Girl were sitting in the living room taking hits from the bong and watching
Kids
. Their eyes bugged out of their heads when they saw the huge pile of stuff. It was precious.

Have at er, ladies. I stood back, grinning at the looks on their faces.

They began picking through the clothes, trying things on, laughing. Soon we were all wearing awesome outfits, crowded into the bathroom, doing our makeup in the mirror.

When's Z coming home? I asked Mac.

She sighed. I don't know. Her parents have her on lockdown. I'm afraid they're gonna ship her off to China to live with her grandparents or something.

We should go get her back. I mean, she belongs here with us, right?

Yeah! Kayos said, as she applied her new black liquid eyeliner. Let's go get that little juvenile delinquent!

Yeah? Mac said.

Yeah! All of us yelled.

Alright, she said, zipping up her new knee-length leather coat. Let's go.

MAC

Mercy came home with this mad shitload of stuff for us. Heaps of designer clothes, tons of makeup, and a bunch of jewellery. It's hard to believe she's never been caught stealing. The shit she gets away with, man, it's unbelievable. It's like she's the incredible invisible brown girl. She just walks into a place and takes whatever she wants and no one bats a fuckin eyelash. They should name a superhero after her.

I think we should try to resell most of it—either pawn it or just get rid of it on the street. I mean, it's nice stuff and everything, but we don't really
need
any of it. We need a condo in West Vancouver a lot more than we need skinny jeans. And we're getting real close to having enough for a down payment. But I have to admit, some of the stuff Mercy scored is pretty fuckin fly. I found a long, black leather coat in the pile of clothes. It had a nice soft finish. I picked it up and smelled the leather to make sure it was real and not that plastic shit.

It was real.

The lining was gorgeous—silk, dark red. Kayos and Sly Girl were already knee-deep in the pile of clothes, squealing like little girls. I slipped the coat on and adjusted the collar so it lay flat.

Mercy stared at me and grinned. I got that for you, Mac. Fits perfect.

No you didn't.

Oh yes, I did.

I looked at myself in the mirror. It did look great. It was the coat I had always wanted. It came to just below my knee and fit
snug. I looked at the price tag. $2,850. Really? You got this for me?

Come on, don't get all emotional on me. It's not like I paid for it. She laughed.

Damn, girl. You look fiiiiine, Kayos said.

Yeah, Mac, you look hot. Sly Girl giggled in her nervous way, which I sometimes found annoying, but not right then.

Thanks.

Show us the back, yo.

I did a little twirl.

Ooohhhh!

Still want to sell all this down on the corner? Mercy asked, raising an eyebrow.

Okay, okay. I'll keep it, I laughed, and went back to the mountain of clothes in the middle of the room. The next thing I pulled out was a short, black bomber jacket, with a thousand zippered pockets, inside and out. Oh, this would be perfect for Z, I said.

Where's Z at? Kayos asked.

She's still on house arrest at her parents'.

How's she doing? Have you heard from her?

Nope. Her parents took away her phone. Fuckers.

When is she coming home? Mercy asked.

I don't know. Her parents have her on a tight leash. I'm scared they're gonna send her away to boarding school in China or some shit.

Let's go get her, Mercy said. She should be here with us, not rotting away in the basement of her parents' house, right?

I looked at her. I didn't think that Mercy really liked Z. I got
the feeling she didn't care when Z got arrested, that she was jealous of our relationship, even though she didn't know all the details of it. She knew that Z and I had become very close; she probably thought that Z had taken over her position as my best friend, but it wasn't like that.

Yeah? I said, still staring at Mercy.

Yeah! Kayos yelled. Let's go get that little young offender! She smacked her newly painted lips together, then kissed the mirror, leaving raspberry-coloured lip prints in the centre.

Mercy nodded, still looking at me. And at that moment, something unspoken passed between us. With that nod, I realized that Mercy knew exactly what was going on between me and Z, and that it was okay, she understood, and that she was still my best friend, and always would be.

Okay then, I said, zipping up my new coat. Let's roll.

We all piled into the Civic and Mercy drove us over to Chinatown. I was so excited to see Z, my fingers trembled as I lit my cigarette. Butterflies dive-bombed in my belly at the thought of seeing her, holding her, kissing her. Even though it had only been a week, I missed her like mad. I hadn't been able to sleep, and had hardly eaten since the night she was arrested. I blamed myself for her arrest. If only I hadn't left her to get smokes, I could have been her lookout and seen the cops coming before it was too late.

Okay, what's the plan? Kayos asked.

Plan?

What? We're just gonna knock on the door and say, Yo, can Z come out and play?

Mercy said, How about: Hi, we're here to take your daughter away to help us with our criminal enterprise.

Sly Girl giggled from the back seat.

Okay, you're right. We need a plan. I rolled down the window, blew smoke into the wet night. Alright, how bout this? Kayos, you knock on the door, when they answer say you're selling something—

What am I selling?

Magazine subscriptions, chocolate, I don't give a fuck, just something to distract them, okay?

Can I sell Girl Guide cookies?

No!

Why not? She pouted. I've done that before. I know what to say.

Because you're too old to be a fuckin Girl Guide anymore, okay?

I could be a Pathfinder, she mumbled.

What the hell is a Pathfinder?

Pathfinders are what come after Girl Guides. You can be fourteen or fifteen, I think, and you still have to sell the cookies.

Okay, fine. You're a Pathfinder.

Cool.

So, you knock on the door, and try to sell them your cookies.

But I don't have any cookies.

Just tell them you're taking orders so you know how many you'll need when your group gets their shipment.

Okay.

Try to chat them up, talk about the weather, ask them where they're from and shit.

Yo, what if they don't speak English?

Improvise!

Okay!

Mercy and I will go around to the back door and get Z out. Sly Girl, you stay in the car, watch the front door. Make sure everything's cool. If one of her parents leaves the doorway, start honking the horn, create a distraction. Got it?

Uh-huh.

Kayos, you'll just wrap it up and walk away when you see the car leave. We'll pick you up down the street at the four-way.

Got it.

Okay, that's the house. Park down the street a little ways, Merce.

After Mercy shut off the ignition, I surveyed them all. Okay, ready?

Born ready, baby.

Yep.

Mmhmm.

Let's go. I stepped out of the car and crushed my cigarette into the pavement with the heel of my boot. I was going to get my girlfriend back.

Z

mom & dad were watchin tv out front & i wuz drawing in my room when i heard da doorbell. my heart seezed up 4 a sekond & i got di$ $qui$hy feelin in my gutz. i can't xplain it, i ju$t knew it wud be her. i opened my door a crak so i cood li$ten. i wuz pretty $ure it wuz Kayo$ @ da door tryin 2 con my parentz in2 buyin cookeez or $um $hit. i laffed & opened my wyndO, $tuck my hed out. Mercy & Mac were dere $tarin up @ me. i $myled $o big my face hurt.