PoV Gloria
"An Ounce is no longer enough, P-shot, I need at least a quarter pound if not half a pound," I told P-shot while sitting on his couch. A gun lay between us, and the smoke smell lingered in the living room. I knew P-shot had some questionable dealings, but he was the best weed in the area, and I knew he got the good shit. The Stuff that comes from Canada, British Columbia, that was grown in labs and shit. I had no idea how he got the shit, but that was not my problem.
My problem was that he did not want to sell it to me.
"G-dime," He said, my cringe-worthy nickname, since neither of us wanted to use our real names when talking in case some dipshit thought it would be funny to record a conversation on their phone or something. "I only got a couple of ounces left at the moment, and I have others coming by later." He told me and raised an eyebrow, "Tell me why I should sell the rest to you?"
"Because I am here before them, and they can kick rocks if they only come at night," I said, looking around a little and out the window. "Plus, I sell to those preppy kids in the rich areas, I stop selling to those customers that might disappear entirely. They expect high-grade stuff that only you get. P-shot, think about it," I told him and smiled slowly, "These are the preppy kids that expect the best shit, and if I fuck up and go to the shitty China shit around the corner, then they disappear. You are the only one who has that fucking good hook-ups, boy, and I am expanding your network. How long ago was it that I was only selling half an O a month? Now, I am selling an O a fucking week. I can't go to anyone else, P-shot, your shit sells on the street like it sells itself. Please, P-shot, help a young sister out. I am gaining more customers by the day. I need at least a quarter pound now, just to keep myself stocked for a week or half, so I am not on your doorstep every day. What other of your brothers can say the same?" I finished with the question, and he looked at me.
"You are selling more and more," He said slowly, and he nodded. "Okay, I will give you half P, but you better not be here for half a month at least. I've been getting the feeling of being watched more lately, and I am starting to wonder if having someone as young as you coming over looks okay. In fact, I think we might start meeting up in more public areas at this rate, G-dime. Normally, when a woman comes in here, I can just say they a hoe or something, but you are too young for that," He said, and I could not help but nod.
"P-shot, I would never do that to you, and I would back you up all the way, bro. I will tell you something," I said with a grin, "If I ever need help with something in that regard, I will come talk to you, you're the best brother a girl like me could ask for," I told the dark black man selling me weed to keep myself fed. My stomach groaned at the thought of the earlier years from before I started to deal drugs, and this guy here was the one to take a shot on me and give me some dope to get on my feet.
The bright, slightly off white smile made me smile, "Look at you, G-dime, getting me all emotional, but seriously, Girl, be careful out there. I still feel a little weird selling this stuff to you. Normal price and get out of here. I will text you the location of the pick up later, be there within the time."
I pulled out eight rolls of cash and placed them on the table with a smile. Each roll was different in size, but I would never fuck over P-shot. "Same as usual, I got them all ready for you, for however much you could send my way, thanks, P-shot," I finished and got up, and she smiled.
"See you G-dime," I said, and walked out without another word, looking around. The sounds of New York life are loud around me.
It didn't take P-shot long before he sent me the coordinates, and I would never have expected that this would be the last time I would ever do something like this. I quickly walked into the gym we shared, scanned my card, and entered. I made sure to use this backpack each time and was dressed for a workout. This was something that P-shot and I came up with, and when I opened a free locker and stuffed my bag into it. I then walked out and did a bunch of running and weights before heading back into the locker room.
I then took out my bag and walked to the one stuffed with the drugs. I quickly opened it up and swapped the bags, looking nearly identical. Then I turned around and walked out. With the new merchandise, I was in luck.
In the next few days, I will have already sold half of it to the high schoolers in the richer areas. I had clothing just for fitting into the high school, and I smiled as I handed off another baggy to the jocks. "Thanks, Gloria, your stuff is the fucking best. That old kid Damieon got caught by the principal the other week, and the place has been dry since you showed up." The jock named Nathan said, and I grinned.
"Well, don't spread it around," I replied with a conspiratorial grin. "If you are one of the few hook-ups," I grinned, and he smiled too.
"Yeah, thanks, Gloria, I already have to go, though." He turned and walked out with about a half O of weed for a party I would not be attending. The kid was inviting more and more people and telling them he had a hookup for weed.
Idiot.
The kid was inviting too many people and was about to get his ass busted, probably by the cops or his parents. Probably the latter since the kid had no fucking idea what subtlety was. I was already on my phone, deleting the evidence of our hookups and blocking him. There was no fucking way I was going to continue to deal with an idiot. Fortunately, I had already increased the premium on him as well.
Idiot probably did not even know I fucking just ripped him off, literally selling him half an O for the price of an O. Then again, I think he might have other things to be thinking about if he continued down this route.
I turned and walked out when I noticed a short, black-haired man in a polo shirt and dress khakis or something. The man looked like a fucking teacher, but the man was dressed up too much. No, this man was not a teacher, even if it was in this pretentious, rich high school. The man's watch was something in the six figures, and the way he looked around it was like someone who thought everything was mediocre.
Then there was the Principal talking to the man. The Principal was talking to this man as if he were sucking up to him and showing him around, and I knew instantly who that man was.
A rich doaner.
Shit, I need to get out of here.
Worse still, I was carrying another half O thinking I could sell a bit more before leaving.
Play it cool, Gloria.
I walked past him, and for some reason, I could not help myself as I walked past, "If you are going to donate to a place, go to a place that actually fucking needs the money, rich asshole," I commented, and I chuckled, knowing I fucked over the Principal a little, and ran.
I chuckled to myself as I heard the Principal roar something as I ran away, but no one was chasing me. As I looked through, I noticed the Rich man had a small smile on his face as he watched me run. I quickly turned the corner and got out of the school, not even a minute later, through an emergency exit I had planned ahead of time for me, doing stupid bullshit.
What I did not know was that this was the first time I met my Adoptive Father.
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