Have you ever wondered what’s the best way to cook up a good lie? The secret ingredient is to add a little truth to it. 

I don’t tell my mom I’m going to the mall to fuck around on a Saturday morning. I can’t, because she’d never allow it. So, what I tell my mom is that I’m going to the mall to study. That is how you change a parent’s perspective. There are coffee shops at the mall. Bookstores. Little nooks where you can scout a place to really delve into that Algebra II, if that’s what you want to tell her you’re doing while you actually play games at GameStop. Now you have an excuse for being at certain places. Now your dilemma is solved. 

Never make up an excuse whole cloth. Why chance it? Even if the odds of getting caught are low, you still run the danger of being seen at places you don’t have permission to be at. We might think our suburb sprawls, but our world is small, and people have eyes. And they see with those eyes, and then they talk with their mouths. And rest assured, there are mouths in our little town. 

A little planning goes a long way. It helps to prepare for the unexpected. So when Arturo and I step into the food court and see that the prices have risen again, we’re glad we prepared by committing to split an entrée to still have enough for the bus ride home. What I’m not prepared for is to see Jessie Rivera and Brogan Daniels sitting together, enjoying some Auntie Anne’s Pretzels. They’re not holding hands. Not yet. 

Jessie and Brogan stand. She’s only eaten half her pretzel, while Brogan has finished his. They talk a little, giggle a bit. She smiles and hands him the rest of her pretzel, which he accepts graciously. I watch him bite the end that she last bit into, a bite that I imagine has traces of her lipstick on it. I watch him savor and swallow what had been in her mouth, and then they both walk away. At this point, I know Brogan could put his arm around her if he wanted, and she would welcome it. I have way less experience with girls, but even I can see that he’s not shooting his shot. I’m positive she’s also wondering why he’s not. If I ever got a chance like that with a girl like Jessie, I wouldn’t waste it. 

I ride the bus home, thinking about how guys like Brogan always get girls. I’ve heard of at least a few he’s already had sex with. He has a type: short, blond, and pretty. He has money. A car. It doesn’t hurt that he’s a good-looking guy, either, I guess. 

I won’t be able to afford a car anytime soon, but wouldn’t it be nice to at least be able to buy a girl a pretzel? Wouldn’t it be nice to buy that for myself? 

Shoot, how hard could it be, selling pot?