“I only scare the hot ones.”
“That’s bad news, we’re a good-looking profession. Once you get over the glasses and hunchbacks.”
She kisses him again, putting her hands through his hair. “That’s true. But believe it or not, I’ve only got eyes for one of them.”
She gets heruniform on at home, brushes her teeth, pockets a granola bar, stops on her way to the station for a second cup of coffee. She’s still feeling bleary from the lack of sleep, but catches herself smiling in her rearview mirror like a fool.
At Wawa she gets a sixteen-ounce dark roast and is in line to paywhen the cashier tells the girl in front of her that they can’t sell her cigarettes.
“Layla, I know your mother. I know you’re only fifteen.”
Layla. Layla Hart.
“Come on. I’ll just get them somewhere else anyway.” It’s early and she’s in cutoff jean shorts despite the cold, a sweatshirt thrown on top that nearly covers them, and a pair of work boots, the rubber treads worn down.
The cashier clears her throat and makes a point to cut her eyes to Callie standing there in her uniform so the girl turns too.
“Fuck it,” she says, narrowing her eyes on Callie. “Fine.”
When she turns, Callie notices the logo on her sweatshirt.Eden Grows.A picture of a tree, an apple, a rake in the foreground.
Callie reaches in with her card. “You know what? I’ll take a pack,” Callie says. Layla pauses and looks at her, wary.
The cashier just shrugs, blows out a puff of air that ruffles her bangs.
Layla leaves, but walks slowly, and Callie catches up outside the store.
“Hey. I’m glad you’re doing better. Last few times I saw you, you were in rough shape.”
“So what? You’re gonna act like I owe you something now?”
“No,” Callie says. She feels clumsy and awkward with the cigarettes in her hand. She holds them out. “But I was hoping I could ask you a few questions about where you get your stuff.” She gestures to the sweatshirt. “You work for Luke?”
“He’s got nothing to do with it,” Layla says. “He hates it when I’m high. Unless it’s the stuff he grows.”
“Your boss gets high with you?” She’s seen it in kids of cops, that same arrogance that Luke has. They think they’re untouchable. But Luke, a guy in his mid-fifties, getting stoned with his teenage employees? She hadn’t seen that coming.
Layla gives her a look that Callie can only classify as pitying. “There’s something you’re not telling me,” Callie says.
She takes the cigarettes from Callie. “The rest isn’t your business.I’m not in the game anymore but I know better than to talk to you. I’ve been warned.”
“Warned by who?”
Layla bites the inside of her cheek. For a second, her bravado falters. “Let’s just say there’s some vipers in these woods.”
Vipers. Snakes. A dark, undulating creature running down an arm. “Fauver? Is that who you work for?” She does her best to ignore the chill that overtakes her when she says his name.
“I don’t sell for anyone anymore, remember?”
Callie reaches into her bag for the folded missing poster with Jenna’s face on it, now creased into softness. “Did you ever sell to this woman?”
Layla studies the photograph. “I’ve seen her before. She bought me a six-pack at the gas station once.”
Of course she did, Callie thinks. “But you’ve never sold to her?”
“Nah. Never sold to her. Look, lady, I’ve said plenty. I gotta go now. Thanks for the smokes.” Layla starts to walk away and Callie can’t help herself.
“I hope you’ll get help. It’s not a way you want to live, what you’re doing. I’ve seen enough to know that using, if you keep up with that stuff… it’s going to become the only thing you’ll ever want. What else do you want, Layla? I’m sure there’s something. Probably a lot of things. And you deserve a shot at them.”
