Steel & Ice (3 page)

“
Thanks, Larry. Just call me
when you wake up. We’re meeting in a parking lot, so it should be a
quick in and out.” Normally this type of transaction wouldn’t scare
me as much. I never met new dealers at their homes, but if I was
already picking up Larry to get his car, I would take advantage of
the situation to make sure nothing went wrong with this new guy.
Plus, this wasn’t a hippie. They were always easy to deal with,
cordial, even offering to smoke me out when I purchased. I liked
dealing with the hippies. Unfortunately, they had a tendency to be
flaky.

Larry reached out and put his hand on my
shoulder. “No problem. You know I’d do anything for you.” Oh fuck.
I didn’t want to have a repeat of the uncomfortable situation in
the car, so I decided this would be a good time to take my leave. I
drained my beer and shoved my bowl in my pocket.

“
I appreciate it. Tell Jesse
good bye or good luck. Whichever is most fitting. I’ll talk to you
in the morning.”

“
Be safe driving home,
Elle.”

“
Always.” I yelled over my
shoulder as I walked to my car.

I clicked the key fob to the Monte Carlo
right as the door to Checks opened and three guys walked out.
Though they spoke quietly, it seemed like a tense conversation. I
walked up to my driver door, and looked up from the ground as I
opened it just in time to catch the giant hottie walking past. I
was about to look back at the ground and duck into my car, but his
eyes shot up and pierced me. They were fierce. He continued talking
to his friends while glaring at me. Was he mad? My eyes darted to
the side. Fuck, why was I so nervous? I looked back to him, and his
eyes had softened. I pulled my hat down and got into my car. I
needed to get home before I made a fool of myself. I wasn’t drunk
enough nor dressed right to exchange words with a man that was
making me want to shove my hand down my pants, and relieve the
tension I felt right there in the parking lot. I drove away lost in
fantasy. Fantasies that would be put to good use as soon as I got
home, and accessed my night stand.

Chapter
2

The re-up was easy enough. Larry called
around noon and Derek, the new dealer, was able to meet me at one
in the agreed upon parking lot. It was an empty building in a
residential neighborhood. It wasn’t in the worst part of town, but
it was shady enough no one would notice or even care about our
quick transaction. I told Derek on the phone that as long as he had
nuggs, I would meet up with him every other Saturday after pay day.
I also told him I wanted to buy drugs off him, not fuck him and if
he made me think he had other ideas, he would lose a loyal
customer. He laughed. I didn’t.

We did our transaction in the parking lot.
Derek gave the heads up nod to Larry, who gave it back. Larry was
hung over as hell, so a head nod was about all he was capable
of.

I dropped Larry off at his car,and headed to
Chris’ house I bought an ounce of nuggs for $375 that we were going
to split. A half-ounce would last me more than two weeks, but I
arranged to buy a larger quantity in case I got bad vibes from
Derek that would leave me dealer-less again.

I fished my cell out of my purse. “Soooooo,
guess who is on her way over to your house with something very
smelly?” I sing songed to Chris when she answered my call.

“
Score! I’m gonna run to the
ATM. Use your key.”

“
Bet.” I hung up.

I had a bowl packed, and was sprawled on
Chris’ futon with her yellow lab when she came barreling in the
back door. She came through the kitchen and into the small living
room of the house she rented, waving twenty dollar bills at me.

“
Strip bitch!” she howled,
waving the money in my face with a broad smile. She was the all
American girl. Dirty blond hair, blue eyes, and all legs. She had
an athletic build, as opposed to my curves. I was a size ten to her
six. Although we were the same height, I had a few pounds on her,
and those pounds resided in my hips and thighs. Yet another thing
Aaron had taught me to embrace.

“
Twenties? You know I’m high
class It’s all Benji’s for me. Gimmee your cash and a lighter so we
can test this shit out,” I teased back.

Men tended to sit in a circle like a fucking
knitting group and get high. Women multi tasked. I took a hit and
then passed Chris the bowl.

“
Oh shit that tastes as good
as it smells,” I told her, a smile spreading across my
face.

“
Pass it and come look at my
outfit choices for tonight.” Chris and I continued getting high
while deciding on the perfect outfit for Eight Oh Eight.

“
You wearing heels tonight?
You know I don’t wanna be six feet tall if you’re going with
tennies.” This was a common question, as Chris and I liked to be
Amazons together when we went out. If one of us was rockin’ tennis
shoes sporty style, the other would usually do the same.

“
I could go either way if
you have your heart set, but I wouldn’t mind being tall tonight,” I
returned.

“
Heels it is. You’re right,
man, this shit is good. How was the pick up?”

“
Good. I took Larry. Derek
seemed OK. He was short.”

Chris gave me her honest laugh, the one that
was not attractive in the least. I loved her for that. My honest
laugh sounded like a car sputtering. I chuckled a lot, but a real
laugh only happened when I was able to be the REAL Elle.

“
You’re such a bitch. Short
guys need love too. You’re a height-ist!” she joked.

“
Fuckin’ A. You fuck the
shorties then!” I hollered back, getting a good laugh in myself.
“You know who was not short? Thiiiiiiis mutha fucka at Checks last
night. Damn, he looked big enough to pick me up and fuck me against
the wall. I masturbated until my damn clit burned last night
thinking about him.”

Chris put her hand on her hip and shot
daggers at me with her eyes. “First of all, why were you at Checks?
Second, did you exchange digits? And third, you need to be tellin’
me stories about the sex you’re having more, and your vibrator
less.”

“
I went with the guys after
work last night. Girl, I was in my damned work clothes smellin’
like French fries, so I wasn’t getting’ any digits last night. But
he was fine. It was dark, but he had some nice ass lips, high cheek
bones, sexy as fuck body. And he was like 6’5” or somethin’,” I
gushed.

“
Whoa whoa whoa. 6’5”? Fuck,
I don’t care if you’re wearing a garbage bag Don’t you dare let one
that tall get away. You could wear those five inchers you bought at
the mall two months ago and have yet to wear. How often do you meet
a man you can wear five inch heels with?” Chris said this while
doing some Aaron style exaggerated arm flailing.

“
I never get laid,” I
sighed. “Tonight is the night.” I shot up off the bed while Chris
continued to pour through her closet. “I’m going to find someone,
take him home, and fuck him until the sun comes up,” I announced
with my fist in the air.

“
Put your fist down, girl.
I’ll believe it when I see it.” I sagged back onto the
bed.

She was right. This wasn’t the first time I
had claimed I was going to have a one night stand. In fact, I think
I said it at least every other Saturday, but I always lamed out. I
needed chemistry with a guy, and I knew pretty fast if there was
chemistry when I met someone. The club was a meat market for most,
but as fate would have it, the opposite for me. The men might be
hot, but often seemed so desperate that their pick-up lines had me
shaking my head. For once, I wanted a guy to say something I hadn’t
heard before. Don’t ask me if I have a boyfriend. Don’t ask me what
I’m drinking. And definitely don’t comment on how tall I am. Chris
said I was smart. I agreed. But she said the men at the club were
not going to engage me in political banter about the Chinese
occupation of Tibet. I knew she was joking, and political talk
didn’t exactly turn me on, but for the love of god I wished
something would come out of a man’s mouth once in a while that made
me stop and think for a minute. For the most part, the guys at the
club bored me and were just eye candy. There were a few times I
exchanged numbers and tried to have a “relationship” with a guy,
but I wasn’t really a relationship type of gal. I liked my freedom
too much.

Years of living alone meant I was used to
coming and going as I pleased. It was one of the first things I
fell in love with when I left my parents’ house. I didn’t have to
tell anyone where I was, or what my intentions were. Hell, I didn’t
have to speak on my day off if I didn’t want to. Silence truly was
golden when you grew up with a mother who interrogated you every
moment of your youth. According to “The Celestine Prophecy”, she
was an interrogator and her constant questioning had made me aloof.
It seemed plausible. Between her and the streets, I had mastered
aloof, impassive, blasé, and a straight-up emotionless poker-face.
It was a façade, but few people knew that. More people knew the
aloof Elle, than the Elle who had passion and fire swirling inside,
just below the surface.

After Chris was dressed, she packed up her
makeup to take to my house while I got ready, and I packed a bowl.
This was the ritual. We always got ready together. That was half
the fun. Fuck, some nights it was the funniest part of the night. I
hoped that wouldn’t be the case tonight. I stayed steady high on
Saturdays usually. Any homework I had was either done during the
week or on Sunday if necessary. Although Sundays could be rough
depending on how Saturday night went.

Once we got to my apartment, I poured a
glass of Merlot for myself and one for Chris.

“
Where’s you’re flask? I’m
short on cash so I need to carry in tonight.”

I passed Chris my flask, and she filed it
with what was left in a bottle of Hennessey that magically appeared
from her purse.

“
Is your purse made of
carpet, Mary Poppins? You got
Alexander Skarsgård
in
there?”

“
I wish. If I did, I
wouldn’t be here with you right now.”

“
Damn, bitch. Bro’s before
hoes, yo.” I gave her a light elbow to the stomach. “Could you at
least fill the flask with vodka so I can drink some too?” I hated
Hennessey.

Chris shot me dagger eyes again. “You got
Vodka?”

“
No.”

She turned away from me and went back to
pouring brown liquid into the flask. “Then shut the fuck up.”

Grrr. I chugged my wine, and poured a second
glass before going to get dressed. I washed and pinned my hair up
in the morning. The very last thing I would do before we left the
apartment would be to pull it down. It would be dry, and hopefully
the curls would cascade down my back. That was the goal each
Saturday night. Sometimes my dark goldilocks had a mind of their
own. In those circumstances, I drew from my extensive hat
collection.

“
Jeans, red boots and red
top? Or jeans, silver wedges, and turquoise collared button down?”
I asked Chris, holding up the two tops.

“
You gonna leave a few extra
buttons open on the turquoise shirt?”

“
Yep.”

“
Turquoise then,” Chris said
with a nod. I loved having a second opinion, and Chris’ was always
the best.

“
Sexy librarian it is
tonight,” I said, as I looked at Chris over the top of the thick
brown frames of my glasses.

“
I love those
frames.”

“
Me too,” I agreed. They
were the perfect mix of funky but fierce. The sexy librarian look
was one of my favorites to rock. I pulled it off easy with the
glasses and my light brown/dark blond/sorta red curly hair. But
also because it shocked people all the more when I opened my mouth.
Most didn’t expect the sexy librarian to ask for a lighter to spark
a blunt, and even less for random masturbation comments to come
out. After a certain level of drunkenness, this became a game to
me. I was a little embarrassed by the stuff I said while drunk, but
loved the reactions I could pull. I only did it when I was really
hammered, and seldom remembered it the next day. Chris would revel
in the stories though, if she had been sober enough to remember. Of
course my mouth didn’t shock her, but she loved to see it shock
others.

******

Chris drove us to Eight Oh Eight. It was one
of her control freak things. We both had them. She had experienced
the streets worse than me, so we both developed control mechanisms
to feel safe. I didn’t mind that hers was driving. It meant I
didn’t have to worry about it. Eight Oh Eight was closer to my
house than hers, so she often crashed on my couch after a night of
partying. Sometimes just for a few hours, and other times I woke up
and she was still there. I never cared. Chris was the polar
opposite of my mother. I didn’t mind having her in my space.

We had a routine on Saturday nights. We
arrived at the club dressed to impress, and a little buzzed. Eight
Oh Eight was a large room, with a smaller back room attached that
held a few pool tables, single stall restrooms, and a small bar.
You could enter from the front into the club, or in the back door
through the pool room. We always entered through the pool room and
got our first drink back there. It was less crowded so it was
easier to get a drink. As soon as we walked in we could hear the
bass pounding in the main club.

“
I’ll get this one. What do
you want?”