The detectives arrived early the next morning. Though Cara didn’t want to talk, she didn’t have the energy to protest.
“Thank you,” Peters said to Cara and her Mom.
Chu was not so cordial. “Toxicology reports came back on your friend,” Chu said. He held up a little baggy with two white and blue striped, square pills. “Wanna tell me about these?”
Cara shook her head.
Chu cleared his throat. “I’ve found kids dead from these pills. Who sold it to you? I need to get it off the street and keep kids safe.”
“Who sold it to you?”
“Samara bought the drugs,” Cara said after a long silence.
“Do you know who she bought them from?”
“Kid at school.”
“This kid have a name?”
“You’d have to ask Samara.”
“You know nothing about this guy?”
“I was a clean sheet.”
“Were you at the sale?” Chu asked.
Cara, Marissa, and Samara stood at Cara’s locker. Cara put her school tablet on the charger and stowed her gymnastics gear.
“Well, if it isn’t the loveliest lady in all of Pulaski High?” said a tall boy with curly hair and a churlish smile. His eyes were only for Samara.
“Well, if it isn’t the annoying-est jerk in all of Pulaski High?” Samara said in a bored but playful tone.
“You ladies have plans for skip day?” the jerk asked.
“Just a movie night and a lazy Friday,” Cara said.
“And since Cara, here, turned eighteen, and won’t be hip deep in gymnastics tomorrow, we’re celebrating with a little munchies party,” Samara said.
“Marijuana?” he shook his head and mumbled, “lightweights.”
“Oh, and what would you do, DT?” Samara asked, her eyes flaring up. “Cocaine? Heroine? We want to ease her in not scare her off with a weird trip.”
“We’ve got a clean sheet here, huh?” DT asked. “I didn’t think it was possible for someone like that to be friends with you.”
“Shut your stupid mouth. She’s been doing gymnastics for like ever. She hasn’t had time for fun.”
Cara looked at Samara, shocked.
“It’s kinda true, Cara,” Marissa said. “It’s been months since we’ve seen you outside school.”
“Look,” DT said, all innocence and nobility, “I want Cara’s first one to be special. I got a new mix in this morning, guaranteed to be the best trip of your life.”
“We don’t need your crazy mixtures. Last time I tried ‘the-best-trip-of-my-life’ all I got was hallucinations. Though Mr. Jones face when he looked at my Math test was worth it. Mom was nothappy though.”
“Nonsense, this is an ND mix, no hallucinations, just great memories.”
“Aren’t those dangerous?” Cara asked.
DT looked at her. “Of course they are! You can’t have a ‘near death,’” he air quoted, “experience if you ain’t close to death. When they remade all those drugs to be legal in the twenties, they took out everything that made them good. The high ain’t nothing like it used to be.”
“Says the guy who sold me crappy old LSD last week,” Samara said.
“You should hear the stories my Nanna tells.” DT said. “Highs so long and good she wouldn’t know where she was or what she’d done by the time it was over.”
“That sounds terrible!” Cara said.
DT dismissed her with a wave of the hand. “It’s the hottest drug on the market. They’re calling it Heaven Squared.”
“You come up with that stupid name?” Samara asked. “How much for three hits?”
“But we could die,” Cara said.
“Live a little, Cara,” Marissa said.
“The possibility has to be there,” DT said, “or it ain’t the same, but that don’t mean it’ll happen to you. Would I steer you wrong?”
“Probably,” Samara said.
“I’m going with, ‘Yes,’” Marissa said.
“Quite possibly,” Cara said.
“I know my stuff, though. What do you think DT stands for?”
“Doofus Tool,” Samara said.
“Dingleberry Toot-fairy,” Marissa said.
“Daniel Thomas,” Cara said.
“Come on ladies,” DT said. “It stands for Death Tripper, unless Principal Watkins or a teacher is listening and then–”
“It’s what Marissa said,” Samara interjected with a smile.
“So what you got?” Marissa asked.
DT held up a little baggy with three blue and white striped, square pills in it. “This is a mix of Ketamine and a special agent I’m not even allowed to say. Perfect for a birthday bash. But wait,” he danced around Samara to lay his head on Marissa’s shoulder. “This little flower’s only seventeen. Should I make it two?”
“Shut up, jerk-wad. You’ve sold to me before.”
“Yeah, but that look of horror on the clean sheet’s face was priceless.”
Cara’s cheeks reddened, and she closed her jaw.
“You should have nothin’ but the best for your eighteenth, Cara,” Samara said.
“Fine.” Cara swiped open her sleeve screen. “How much?”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” DT said, “this ain’t the mini-mart.”
“Relax, Cara,” Samara said. She pulled a wad of bills out of her pocket. “I’ve got you covered.”
To Be Continued…