Chase The Night | Reservoir Dogs

v. Hotbox

[ v . i ]

The windows of Sandy's Buick were rolled down, letting the lingering smell of In-N-Out drift away from the leather seats. As the sun set behind the shadowed palm trees, she gave a pointless albeit quick glance around the car before shooting Freddy a devious smile. She pulled a carton of Marlboros from her pocket, flicking it open and holding it out to him. He looked down and stared at the one filter that was not quite like the others.

"I wanna level up," she said to herself, tapping the steering wheel rhythmically.

"You sure we're not gonna get caught like this?" His fingers strayed over it hesitantly.

"Positive," she swore, slowing to turn a narrow corner. "I do it all the time, nobody really notices. If a cop drives by, I just roll my window up and pray to God they think it's a cigarette. Stupid, I know, but it never fails."

Freddy chuckled and pulled the end of the joint out, folding the top of the carton over. "Do you always keep one in here?"

"Sometimes," Sandy shrugged and slipped the cigarettes back in her pocket as he held the filter in his teeth. "You ever smoked Thai before?"

"Can't say I have."

She raised her eyebrows. "Oh, buddy. You're about to go to Paris."

"What?" Freddy squinted as she held out her lighter, letting him guard it against the wind with his hand.

"Have you ever been to Paris?" He shook his head as she continued regardless. "Have you ever been to fucking Paris, Freddy? Have you ever been to the fucking moon?! I have. This is the shit, dude."

Freddy laughed, blowing out half his first hit before taking another.

"Is this the side of town you live on?" he asked, relaxing in his seat and propping his arm on the open window.

"Used to."

"You live in the city now?"

"Yeah." She took the spliff between her fingers as smoke billowed from Freddy's mouth. "We actually drove by my old high school a while back."

"Really?" The car slowed to a stop, red light flooding the windshield.

"Yeah. You know there are kids getting pregnant at, like, fifteen now?"

"It's always been that way," Freddy remarked, receiving an eye roll in response.

"I know, but it's bad now, dude." She sucked in another breath of smoke and passed him the joint. "It's crazy to me. You know what I was doing at fifteen?"

"What?"

"Working at fucking Claire's Accessories." He chuckled as a black truck pulled up next to them at the intersection, blaring music behind the closed windows. "Not getting plowed by the gimp captain of the football team."

The light flashed green and Sandy's boot pulled away from the brake.

"Watch it," Freddy defended, tapping the ash off the end of the reefer and putting it back between his teeth. "I was captain of my football team."