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I met him the day after I got that fateful phone call from Crystal. Crystal and I spent that morning doing rails of meth and watching the sun rise while listening to Dashboard Confessionals “Hands Down” on repeat. I decided to go home and get that break up letter out to Jason. Now that I was high, I really could give less than a fuck about where my relationship with Jason ended up. Wow, this feeling was awesome. I felt completely invincible, numb to any pain, grandiose in thought and perception. I felt like I could take over the world… Little did I know all of those feelings morph into hate and self-loathing within a week of doing meth fulltime. I got to my house at 2pm. Crystal stayed at her place. She was entertaining a gentleman caller. Another reason why I left. For some reason, which fails my memory now, we decided to trade cars that day. I had a Toyota Four-Runner, she had a Chevy Silverado.. After I finished typing the letter, but before sending it, my sister Sloan called. Did she have this sixth sense that I was high? She wanted to know if I could take her to her boyfriend Randy’s storage place to pick up some of her things. She then proceeded to tell me that Randy had been taken into custody that day to start his 10 year prison sentence for manufacturing and sales of Methamphetamine. We knew this day had been coming for quite some time. I never gave it more than a fleeting thought since her world did not mix with mine. I found her world to be ridiculous; meth heads, doing what they could to get high. None of her friends had any teeth or appropriate body hygiene. I let go of caring so long before that nothing was different about Randy going away. But this was my sister whom no matter what I’ve always adored and of course I was going to go help her.

Randy had a condo in Sun Valley (the worse enclave of the valley). Sun Valley is not very big but it houses all the popular gangs from The Valley. Even though parts of Sun Valley are a stone’s throw from Burbank’s outskirts, it might as well be a separate country. It’s common in Sun Valley to see a helpless animal being thrown out of a slow moving van, like a piece of trash. That would get you thrown in Jail in Burbank. Sun Valley, the quintessential Barrio. You will never hear two little girls planning their futures dreaming of the day they have matching houses, husbands and kids in Sun Valley. No one ever strives to move to Sun Valley; they only strive to one day get away.

I logged off my computer without sending the email. Fuck Jason, I thought. I took the 5 fwy north 5 exits to get to Randy’s condo. I locked my door as soon as I hit the fwy exit. It took me quite a while to find safe parking; parking within running distance to wherever one planned on going. I got to the safety gate of Randy’s condo and knocked politely. I found it quite odd that on the only window to the outside world were three not conspicuously placed security cameras. They were placed to the window with white painter’s tape. Finally my sister opened the door. The smoke that billowed out the front door did not smell like cigarettes. She quickly let me in and slammed the door shut and locked it. She explained how the HOA was trying to evict them for having too much traffic .. I couldn’t imagine why.

Once inside, I wondered what the heck they needed security camera’s for as there was really nothing of value inside. Yes, there was plenty of stuff; there was hardly a place to sit as there were plenty of broken stereos and cameras and various knick knacks. I peered into the kitchen and wondered how anyone ever cooked a meal in this place as the kitchen looked more like a storage room. The kitchen had a minor difference from the “living room”; The kitchen had a bee infestation coming from the vents over the stove. Honey dripped freely from every opening in the kitchen. What was this place? I guess this is what they call a tweak den.

There were about 5 greasy looking fellows sitting in a circle with my sister as I entered the living room. They were passing around the pipe. One of those guys kindly gave up his seat for me; a torn couch cushion on top of a termite infested desk. As I crouched over it like a public bathroom toilet, I looked up immediately in front of me and noticed 3 monitors stacked one on top of the other monitoring the front door. That’s quite fancy, I thought. Now that I was technically in the circle, I asked my sister if I could take a hit. We had never smoked together, but she knew I had been partying weekends with Crystal. She raised her voice slightly in a harsh tone not to shoot down my request but to tell me, I was breaking the rotation and I needed to wait my turn. That was my very first lesson on how to be a proper tweaker. I took a mental note. I felt embarrassed that I had asked too soon. I wasn’t trying to take someone’s turn away from them, it was an honest mistake. I knew this was her world and if I wanted to impress her among her people, I better follow her que and not look like I’m a sheltered little Burbank girl. I felt as though I needed to portray an air of street saaviness like her. I had so much more to learn.

After we finished smoking, and were just about ready to leave to get her things out of storage in walked “Crooked”. He was nothing like the 5 gentleman that we had just gotten high with. He had a cocksure, yet sensitive attitude. He wasn’t bad looking either. Not my type, I thought. He was tall, with blonde hair and blue eyes and tan skin. Some might mistake him for gay due to his flamboyant gestures .. Well that was kind of my type. I have always dated pretty boys that could pass for gay or straight. Put them in a gay pride parade and no one would be the wiser. Put him in a rodeo as a cowboy. Well, then they’d just look really gay.. Once I got a closer look at him though I realized he was fairly weathered around the edges. Crooked was extremely charming right from the first hello. We left Crooked there to “clean house”. Apparently he was there to get rid of all the moocher’s that happened to take up residence in this godforsaken hell hole. We told him we’d be back in an hour.

As we walked to Crystal’s truck, Sloan pointed out Crooked’s vehicle. It was a fairly new looking Corvette. Certainly not like her other friends who either had no ride or a car that just as easy could be junked for $50. She then went on to tell me how that Crooked was Randy’s best friend. He worked as a foreman for a masonry company, he owned a house in Santa Clarita, a fairly nice suburb 20 minutes north of Los Angeles. She had only known him personally for 2 weeks as he had just gotten out of doing a 10 year prison sentence not long before she met him. All that she told me about him only piqued my curiosity further. My sister had been in this game for over 10 years at that point and all of her “friends” were certainly not the type you could take to a Sunday meal with the family. Crooked was.

We got back to Randy’s and the place seemed a lot quieter. I guess he did unload all of the crumb bums while we were gone. Of course, a bad boy is always appealing to a girl with daddy issues. Before Randy went to prison to start his sentence he anointed my sister and Crooked to be the caretakers of his Casa de Tweak-dome, and his business if they chose. Mainly, Randy just needed someone who would keep the riff raff out and keep the mortgage paid on his place up so that he’d have something to call home when he got out. Sloan and Crooked agreed.

Once inside the palace of tweak-dome Sloan went immediately to her computer. My sister and I are quite opposite in regards to personality and social attributes. Sloan’s mind is more scientific and she’d much rather spend her time fixing or making something. I, myself have always been too dependent on the nature’s of humanity and would much rather have deep conversation with an interesting person. Crooked was the same way. Or, he showed himself to be the same as me. The first day I was there we talked about everything.. I mean everything.. From family to religious to political values, to our failed relationships, to street ethics, to cooking to the art of prostitution.. Nothing was exempt. It was interesting how much of the same views we shared. I would find out later that it was all a con game, but for now I was learning the hard lessons, remember? It had been a long time, if ever, that I had a conversation like that much less with someone who shared identical views on the world. Too good to be true?

Before I knew it it was midnight. We had yet to have a lull in conversation. I hadn’t even heard from Crystal all day. I wondered how things were going with the guy she was with. I decided I better get her truck back to her so we could exchange vehicles. Crooked, offered to drive us since it was getting late. He seemed like such a protective and loyal friend. We let him drive.

The police immediately took notice of Crystal’s truck when it exited Burbank Blvd. After all it was midnight in Burbank and even though Burbank is a suburb next-door to LA, it might as well be a small Midwestern town where the streets roll up soon after night falls. Before we could get to the first intersection there were two cops following us. They let us sweaty palm it a mile before they flipped the lights on. As Crooked pulled over he said “ok girls, if you have anything on you now is the time to hand it over.” We didn’t, but the offer was not lost with me. This guy hardly knows us, is on parole, and if he violates one more time he’s back in for 25-life. Too good to be true?

It turned out Crystal’s gentleman caller was no gentleman at all and was actually a 17 year old boy with a very over protective father who had called the police department reporting his child missing, yet suspected to be with Crystal. The Burbank cops are great that way. They will put an APB out on a vehicle of a woman who might be housing a boy under 18 in their rooms. In LA that would NEVER happen. It was a scary experience. My first non-traffic violation encounter with the police. I remember crying on the sidewalk as they did a thorough search of her truck and interrogated us about Crystal and this kid she was screwing. I didn’t know then this was a preview of things to come. I was trying to learn fast.

After the police let us go, we practically flew out of Burbank back to good old Sun Valley, where cops don’t look at you cross ways for being on the streets after midnight. I had already had a take your child to work day with my sister.. You’d think I’d want to politely say my goodbyes and go back to my quaint, easy, crime free existence in Burbank. As I sat on the make shift couch I kept picturing myself bolting for the door, but something about that environment was sucking me in like a vacuum. Like a magnet pushing me further away from my current existence. Aside from almost going to jail, I was having a blast. Plus, this was the first time in our lives that my sister and I were on the same level. I felt like we were sisters again. Man, I had missed her so much.

Also, I had just met a really cool friend. By days end, Crooked had showed that he was a loyal friend, especially to those in need. Above all, he was willing to take a drug rap, which meant his going back to prison for life. He showed himself to be a successful person in regard to his career and his owning his own home. He showed himself to be a great communicator, he showed himself to really take a passionate interest in my life. At the time, I can’t say I had romantic feelings for him, but I was certainly intrigued by this enigma within the tweaker circle. So, I ended up staying, and staying and staying until it was far too late.

My curiosity and his mask of Sanity would prove a dangerous combination. By summer’s end, He would take off that mask and become the most toxic entity to infiltrate into my life and my family’s life. He would turn my sister and me from best friends to arch enemies. He would get his hands on a lot of my family’s money. He would lie and cheat and mislead with every attempt of destroying me. He tried. He didn’t. I learned from Crooked. Above all, he has taught me to never take anyone at face value. I will be writing more in depth on this character as my chapters unfold. I haven’t even touched the surface.