|
Tommy
Hill was, among other things, a drug dealer. It would be great if he could say
that he felt guilty about it, but he didn’t.
It wasn’t that he was proud of his activities, or hoping to move into
more lucrative drug selling, it was just a matter of caring. Tommy didn’t care
about it. It was just a way to make money. At first, it was an easy way, but
that all changed when he became the sole supplier to every marijuana dealer at
Bridgewater. That was not an intentional development, he just sort of stepped
into it.
He
came to Bridgewater an avid pot smoker, but, he soon realized that there was
enough smoker’s at this school, that he could buy extra, sell what he didn’t
want and get the rest, for free. Within a month, his name had gotten around and
he was receiving phone calls from random people, random in that they didn’t
know him but only knew someone that he knew, desiring to buy some marijuana. By
the second month, he was clearing a little over two pounds a week, and making a
boatload of money to go along with his free smoke.
As
more time passed, Tommy ceased selling smoke to smokers, and began to only sell,
in much greater quantity, to other dealers. By the time his freshman year ended,
he sold a pound a day, and had more money in his safe then he could spend in
four more years of college.
On
of the things that people found most surprising about Tommy, was that he was a
great guy. He was a good student, a caring person that actually thought that
people and their feelings mattered. Maybe it was this notion that originally
drew him and Pierre together as friends. But, for whatever the reason, they were
friends.
Needless
to say, Tommy’s job gets him into every party, no matter how crowded and no
matter what crowd had gathered. So, Tommy happened to be at the Lacrosse House
on Tuesday night, when he saw Sara, Pierre’s supposed girlfriend, leave the
house with some random guy. He wouldn’t have thought twice about it, knowing
that it was safer for a girl to have a guy walk her home from a party, but they
were holding hands. Tommy watched things develop from behind a four foot bong
that the house proudly named “Grimace”, because it was purple and they
usually got McDonald’s after smoking. He watched intently as they snuck out of
the house, and he even followed behind, trying to be sure he was seeing her
cheat. As he got to the back door, he was just in time to see her start to kiss
the random guy and then take him away. That little friggin’ bitch!
Tommy was irate that she would cheat on Pierre. He could think of fifteen
girls, all great looking, that were eager to get in Pierre’s pants. But, Tommy
couldn’t think of one time that Pierre thought about it, let alone act on the
offers.
Tommy
watched the pair head off and decided, before heading back to the bong, that
tomorrow he would have a little discussion with his friend, Pierre. I never
liked that bitch anyway!
©2003
StoriesByEmail.com
|
