I’M SLIDING THE SCALE INTO MY BACKPACK and Kelly is looking at the bag of coke in her hand like it’s a crystal ball when I say, I guess there’s a snowstorm on the forecast, which isn’t remotely funny. I don’t even know why I said it. Kelly peeks at me over the baggie and laughs. Cackles, actually. Head back, shoulders bouncing. I’m thinking No way she thought that was funny when she stops mid-cackle, goes stone-faced and looks me right in the eyes. Good one, she says, voice flat, then bounces her eyebrows just once, like they’re testing out a trampoline.
I think I’m in love with this girl. The thought reveals itself like it’s been hiding behind a lamp in my brain’s living room. I think I’m in love with Kelly.
That’s me, I say. Mr. Funny Guy. I stand and stumble toward the door, cheeks hot, desperate to get out before I do anything else weird.
Wait, she says. I turn. Four twenties sit between her index and middle finger. This wasn’t a gift, was it?
I grab the cash, give her a weird little head nod and dip out.
The whole walk home I think about all the times I’ve sold to Kelly, how I always get excited when she texts me to pick up and how I feel jittery when I leave her apartment. I realize I’ve got, like, a middle school infatuation, but have been pretending I don’t because she’s a client.
I say it out loud to make it
…
Nick is a Los Angeles based writer. He’s had fiction published in Ghost City Review, The Brussels Review and Angel City Review. He’s also written short films which have screened at film festivals such as the Chelsea Film Festival and the Hollyshorts Film Festival. He was a Creative Writing major at UCLA. He is currently working on his debut novel.