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Chapter 5: The Grahams make me sick.
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The windows were down on Damien’s car as the wind whipped through my hair. I sat shotgun. I always did. I felt the full force of the music from here— every beat and bass. It sounded like Chief keef. Maybe G herbo. I never kept up with any shit like that to know.
His giggling buddies were behind me. I noticed a line of cocaine being drawn on the leather seats of Damien’s EX-L Honda accord.
He was better than me. I would’ve stopped the car and told them to get the fuck out. < ...
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