Our convoy is still passin through the park. The car parks ir full the night, motors hidin behind the darkenin trees. The sun is almost doon noo n it’s that mad dusky pink light. A kin make oot Rangers n Celtic taps through the trees n dafties still bouncin aboot, some wae taps aff n the familiar green n yella ae Buckfast bottles. Broonie’s rollin a joint in the motor’s handbook noo, crunchin the grinder, n A’m scopin the scene, seein where we kin pull up n sit. A hud been doon here in elder cunt’s motors when A wis a wee guy n kin always mind it being jailbait. The polis wid park at the top ae the wee car parks n go doon n search everycunt. If yi get caught wae a grinder full ae green, yir fucked. A few times when the polis hud appeared at the motor, A’d crunched a full fuckin joint intae a wee baw n stuck it doon the front ae ma trackies, folded the book away n swept up the tobacco tae avoid a drugs charge. The grinder is the only thing yi cannae git tae fuck quickly. It’s hard tae deny a solid metal cylinder wae half quarter ae ground-up stinky grass n a bumblin Broonie in charge ae the surreptitious destruction ae evidence. Yi huv tae be quick n smooth no tae git busted, then play it cool under the duress ae questionin, melted oot yir nut.

We pull intae the next car park wae only a wee blue Saxo VTS sittin in it. There’s a few lassies in the motor n nae dafties. We aw park across fae the burds n slide aw the windaes doon so we kin talk across the four motors. Addison is wae a burd we didnae know, Amy. Finnegan’s wae Wee Toni, as per. Danny is wae Amanda n Kenzie in the back n A’m wae wee fuckin captain chaos, Broonie boy. Amanda’s leanin oot the windae talkin tae me while she lights a fag. ‘Where’s yir burd the night, son?’

‘She didnae want tae come oot. Fuck knows wit’s the matter wae hur,’ A say.

‘She pissed aff at yi fur suhin?’

‘Aw fuck probably!’

‘Yi probably deserve it! Gemma’s no been aboot much lately, right enough. She’s oot wae hur new pals in the town n aw that. They aw go tae Tunnel.’

A hudnae really seen Gemma properly fur a few weeks n any time A tried she wis patchin it. It wis a passin fling really, no much mare than that. A wisnae lookin fur love anyways, just chasin the buzz wae the elder chicks, as always fur the Azzy boay. If yi chase the bad burds n the elder wans, longevity isnae often guaranteed. Short n intense is best.

‘Wit’s the plan then, Azzy boy?’

The wee burds in the motor opposite ir geein us the eye, a wee blonde wan n a brunette n A’m nudgin Broonie tae look, but he’s stoned noo n jist gigglin away tae himself. ‘Plan is, draw ae that fuckin joint, ya mad hog!’