Chapter Four

I am on my way to school. This is going to be my first day there. I have already missed a month of school, but I guess they don’t care as long as they receive the tuition money. Andrew is the one driving me to school. He really needs to learn how to shut the fuck up. So far he has talked about his issues at work, his issues with the yardwork he has been doing lately, and issues I was actually present during. What issues could those possibly be? Well let me tell you, random voice in my head. He is talking about the time I spent in the hospital. It is fucking ridiculous! I was there, why would he talk about how scared he was? I don’t understand nor do I care enough to ask why.

Our car has finally made it to the front of the school. I did some research on this place so I am not surprised by the grandeur of the building, but its size was still a little awe inspiring. The main building was built into a large spire towering over the rest of the school. The remaining buildings were all built with a gothic architectural style. Only the rich would be attending this school. It really makes me question how the Reeds were able to send their daughter here.

The car comes to a complete stop and I rush out to get into the building.

“Enjoy your first day of school. I’ll be waiting here to pick you up once the day is over!” I hear the words of Andrew drift out from the minivan as it pulls away. That car could actually make a woman’s pussy dry up. I walk slowly into the school, heading for the office.  I have no idea what my class schedule is. I never had the time to check it beforehand, not that it matters. Any class I take here will be one I could have passed when I was five.

An elderly woman greets me as I walk through the door. She is the type of woman who was always too scared to move away from the town she was born in and ended up working at the high school she went to. Now she is simply waiting out the days until she dies. These type of people are always the saddest to look at. She is nothing more than a walking corpse.

“Hi, I am Jacob Smith, I missed the first month of school due to my hospitalization and was wondering if I could get my class schedule.” I initiate the conversation. Someone had to.

“Ohh yes, I got a call from your caregivers a few days ago. Here’s your schedule and a map of the school. Your first class is Biology, which is just down the hall to the right.” Her aged voice slowly explains where to go.

“Thank you.” After she finishes I quickly thank her, grab the sheet she held out to me and head straight to class. I’ve lost the enthusiasm I once had for school. I no longer strive to mingle with people my own age, I am just too unique to ever fit in. I arrive at my first class very promptly, it was fairly easy to find. I sit down and prepare for the long day that awaits me. It is strange that I wasn’t given a locker though, maybe that will happen later on. The class is slowly filling up and eventually the teacher walks in and class begins. No, I didn’t introduce myself to the class. That kind of pussy shit doesn’t happen in America. You show up and are thrown to the wolves. The wolves being prepubescent teenagers in this case, which can often times be just as horrifying. I am not one to talk though, I am not even twelve yet. I would fit into that category as well.

Class is over, well the first one is. It was as dull and interminable as I had expected. The classroom interactions were childish at best. Talking isn’t allowed in class during class time unless the teacher allows it. This meant that I have yet to even talk to a fellow classmate, but my hope for any meaningful interactions have all but vanished with the immaturity I witnessed from the first class alone.

My next few classes were just as horrible as my first. Same shit different location. The school is set up so a student will travel to each one of their classes across campus. A fifteen minute break is allowed between each one and during that break a student must prepare their material and get to class before it starts. It just puts more stress onto the students. I have made it to our dedicated time for lunch. It almost feels like this is a prison or maybe a cattle farm. Students being the cattle of course.

I grab some mess of food they hand me for lunch and I immediately throw it away, I don’t have much of an appetite. A group of kids sitting next to me are giving me strange looks. It almost seems like they want to approach me, but have no idea how. I am growing pretty listless and need something to entertain me. I’ll go see what they want.

I walk over and sit down at an empty seat at their table. “Hi I’m Jacob. I don’t believe we have met.” My greeting may have been a bit formal, but I’m not in the mood to be childish.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

The kids at the table all return the greeting and introduce themselves. I forgot to pay attention. Their names aren’t important anyways. They clearly have something interesting to tell or ask me. After a few minutes of friendly banter they finally get to the big picture.

“My friends and I are throwing a party this weekend. Why don’t you come as well? It would be a great way to meet your fellow classmates.” This is what I was waiting for. Something interesting has finally reared its head and I pounce on it quicker than a starving hobo can pounce on a dollar. I am also not sure that is exactly how he said it. I find that I keep translating everything people say in this school into something intelligible. I’m not sure I could figure out the meaning to our conversations if I didn’t.

“I would love to go! I’ve been wanting to find a way to get to know everyone better.” I choose to add some extra excitement in my acceptance. It can’t hurt.

“That’s great. The party will be this Saturday at my house. Write down your number and I will text you the details later.” He said this while pulling out a piece of paper that had list of numbers already written down on it. I wrote down my name and number in the next open line.

I am writing down the last number when the school bell goes off, it’s time to go back to class. The rest of the day went almost identically to the beginning of it. Boring classes and boring conversations. I could describe the rest of the week in excruciatingly boring detail, but that doesn’t make for much of a story and is also why I am now leaving school Friday afternoon. I need to prepare for the party tomorrow night. Rich high school kids can be a great source of income and an even greater way to gain influence quickly.

When I arrive home I dial a phone number I memorized a long time ago. A man picks up, speaking in Vietnamese. My Vietnamese is a little rusty, but I can still speak with the best of them. We converse in Vietnamese for a few minutes and then I hang up the phone. Hector doesn’t have control over, or intel on, all of my contacts. I just ordered ten ounces of cocaine and will need to leave soon to go pick it up. Cocaine is a great drug to sell. The prices are high and become higher when idiotic high school kids are involved. I should be able to triple the ten grand I am spending on it. I will probably sell it cheap to start out though to make sure they trust me and slowly raise the prices. I will also need to find drug runners of my own once this becomes big enough.

I head out to pick up my cocaine and pay the man with a portion of the money I stole from the bank before I got shot. The transaction is done without a hitch and I head back home. I am now in possession of ten ounces of coke and down ten thousand dollars. This better be worth it.

Saturday night I get a ride over to the party. I take my backpack with me, but neither of my caretakers questioned me about it. It is currently filled with cocaine, but shouldn’t be for long. I step out of the car to head towards the house, but before I got out Andrew had to leave me with his words of wisdom, “If anyone offers you alcohol or drugs, turn them down. Nothing good comes out those illegal activities.” I couldn’t even look at him without laughing so I just step out of the car and walk to the house without looking back. I arrive at the entrance and walk inside. The second I open the front door, I am hit with a wave of loud music and the smell of alcohol. This is the type of atmosphere I thrive in.

I quickly get to work distributing the product. I begin by giving very small amounts of free to those who appear to be the most fucked up. I continue doing so and as the night wears on word begins to spread that I have something worthwhile. The moment multiple people come to me asking for some I begin charging money for it. I can’t help but notice an attractive blonde girl keeps coming back for more. This is her fourth time coming to me, but even if I try she keeps buying the smallest amount I offer. It is almost as if she wants to stop, but lacks the willpower to truly go through with it. Addiction is just one of the perks to this job. The night ends with me selling off almost seventy- five percent of the cocaine I brought. I have already made back the money I spent and an extra two thousand in pure profit. I purposely sold it cheap this time around. Get them hooked and they will keep coming back for more, no matter how expensive it gets. This will be only the beginning to my re-entry into the drug market.