The Deal Anonymous

I made sure no one saw me as I rounded the dark corner.

“You got the stuff?” a hurried voice whispered.

“I got the stuff. You?”

I replied to a shaded figure, which in turn hastily nodded.

A quick exchange occurred, and two figures dispersed from the alley. We rushed back to the tables, avoiding the watchful eyes of noon-aids scanning for kids leaving the lunch area. I looked triumphantly at my hand to see the shiny quarter I obtained. I had just sold Tommy my carton of chocolate milk. Being lactose intolerant, I was forced to wash down lunches of dry chicken sandwiches or oily pizza slices with drinking fountain water for the first few years of elementary school. What made the metallic fountain water taste worse was the vending machine filled with refreshments next to it. With my pockets full of lint and no cash, I thought I was out of luck -- until I met Tommy.

I met Tommy during snack recess in the beginning of fourth-grade when I spotted him drinking a bottle of Nesquik chocolate milk. I warned him that he would be gassy after finishing his drink, and he laughed at how he had never met anyone who was lack-toast-and-tolerant. After some friendly elementary school banter, we quickly became friends. It was Tommy’s love for...