Fallout (Crank 3)

slams into me hard. No

way could she have heard

the commotion. “Great

song, but Darla wants you

to turn it down. What is it?”

Erica reaches for the volume.

“Bad Girlfriend.” By Theory of a Dead-

man. I just downloaded it today.

She looks at me, and her eyes

repeat a too-familiar story.

Erica is wired. Treed, in fact.

I TOTALLY KNOW TREED

In sixth grade, the D.A.R.E.

dorks came in, spouting stats

to scare us into staying straight.

But by then, I knew more than

they did about the monster

because of my dad and his women,

including my so-called mom.

Her ex, too, and his sister and cousin.

Plus a whole network of stoners

connecting them all. The funny

thing is, none of them have a fricking

clue that I am so enlightened.

Tweakers always think no one

knows. Just like Erica right now.

“Shit, girl. You go to dinner lit

like that, you’re so busted.

Darla may be a bitch. But she’s

not stupid, and neither is Phil.”