He knew he was taking a chance. He needed the money to support his habit.
It was an elite private high school. His parents paid an ungodly amount to send him there. They provided the best of everything. They purchased him a $45,000-dollar Mustang for his sixteenth birthday. He knew how to play the game with them.
The backpack provided the perfect vehicle to transport his drugs. Everyone had a backpack. He made sure his did not draw attention. Plain black but lots of zippered pockets for his inventory.
He heard a whisper behind his back. It wasn’t a customer.
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