Read Online Tricks by Ellen Hopkins - Free Book Online Page A

if
    *
    I should try to set him up with Iris. A pair of low-life
    druggies. The perfect couple.
    136
    Alex and I
    Are hanging out downtown, scoping out people, scoping
    us out. I take a deep drag off
    *
    a bummed Kool, cough like a dweeb on the exhale. "Does
    our stepdad have a girlfriend?"
    *
    Alex keeps watching people
    walk by. She rarely looks you in the eye. Nah. No one special,
    *
    not since Lydia boogied on down the road. Guess he has
    fuck buddies, though. Why?
    *
    "I dunno. It just came to me
    that maybe he and my mom
    should hook up or something."
    *
    She doesn't miss a beat.
    You kidding? You don't like your mom or what?
    *
    I laugh. "Not much, actually.
    But she's easier to deal with when she's got a man in her life."
    137
    Really? Seems to me life is a lot
    easier without getting attached to someone. Too complicated.
    *
    "God, do you know my mom?
    But she thinks having a guy around makes her important."
    *
    Alex snorts. How old is she, anyway? Sounds like she still plays with Barbies.
    *
    "I doubt she ever played with
    Barbies. Just a shitload of
    Kens." And Sams. And Bills,
    *
    But, as much as I think Alex is pretty okay, I'm not about to share too much information
    *
    about Iris and how she brings in cash. Besides, maybe Iris would
    stop tricking for the right guy.
    *
    Maybe if the right guy came along, we could live a nice, normal
    life. However that's defined.
    138
    I Guess Nothing Says
    Moms have to be good
    people, though. I mean, look at Britney Spears. She
    *
    might not be a complete
    whore, but she's not
    exactly a shining example
    *
    of motherhood. And, just down the block, a woman in baggy sweats yanks her
    *
    little girl along, yelling,
    Hurry the hell up, would
    you? The kid's bawling.
    *
    And then there's Alex's
    mom. Busted for robbing a liquor store with a gun.
    *
    All for another fix. A few
    hours of finding a way to forget everything. Alex included.
    *
    I hope I'm never a mom. But
    if I am, I'll make damn
    sure my kids look up to me.
    139
    Speaking of Kids
    I really ought to get home.
    Gram has a hair appointment
    this afternoon, so unless Iris
    *
    suddenly figured out motherhood,
    Mary Ann is the only one there to take care of the little kids until I get
    *
    home. "Better go," I tell Alex.
    "Time to play mom. How
    'bout a smoke for the road?"
    *
    She grimaces. At least my winner
    mother had the sense to get fixed.
    You're gonna pay me back, right?
    *
    Pay her... oh, for the cigs.
    "Yeah, sure. I can 'borrow'
    some from Iri--uh, my mom."
    *
    Not sure why I don't want
    Alex to know I call her Iris.
    Yeah, it makes her seem like
    *
    less of a mom, but Alex knows
    she's not much of a mom anyway.
    Anyone with eyes could guess it.
    140
    I Walk Up the Street
    Slowly, sucking nicotine into my lungs. Tastes like crap, and I know if I don't stop it will
    *
    kill me. But it satisfies some
    deep call. And what the hell?
    I don't want to live too damn long.
    *
    Suddenly an ambulance screams
    by. Fear punches my gut. Without a doubt, I know exactly where
    *
    it's headed. I throw the lit Kool into the gutter, start to run, choking on yellowish smoke.
    *
    round the corner and sure as day, the square red truck is in front of Gram's, warning lights spinning.
    *
    Beside it, a police cruiser blocks
    most of the street, and another is parked farther up the road, routing
    *
    traffic away. Shit, shit, shit! I run
    faster, barely able to breathe.
    Fricking cigarettes! I skid to a stop,
    141
    try to take in what I see. Two
    paramedics kneel next to Sandy.
    His little body lies in the street,
    *
    unmoving. "Is he okay?" I scream, trying to push closer, only to be
    stopped by a young police officer.
    *
    Give them some room. The little
    boy is breathing. That's all
    we know. Are you the mother?
    *
    "No. I'm his sister. But I--I--"
    What else is there to say right
    now? "Wha-what happened?"
    *
    Hit and run. His radio scratches
    some unintelligible information.
    Hang on. I've got to take this call.
    *
    Your, uh, sister over