The only place to drag on S. Street was over by Oskar Grouch’s can, ‘cause he was the only one who didn’t mind the smell. Otherwise all the older muppets and people would catch the smoke rising up, and they’d lean out their window and scream and b***h at you until you had to get away or the police would come after you.
So they were over by Oskar’s, standing in front of the run-down apartment building that had been closed several years ago—cockroaches or something like that—and dragging. Zoe, half-laying, half sitting on the stone stair rail, could already feel the buzz as she sucked in foul mouthfuls of the s**t.
“S’ good s**t,” said Elmo, already soaring.
Zoe glanced at him.
Bert smirked, a smile twisting his ugly face. “See, I told ya. What did I tell ya?”
Elmo kicked at him. “Shut it, pissface. I’m trying to soar.”
“F**k you,” Bert laughed nastily. “You already are.” He wore a patched over denim jacket that hung open, revealing his baggy black SCREAMERS T-shirt and the waistband of his tight dark jeans. Bert was a mean punk, but he had nothing for muscle and didn’t like to show it. See, these days if a guy didn’t have what he should, he didn’t get no respect. Bert’s meanness was a protection.
“Go run home to Ernie,” sneered Elmo, getting hyper now. “I heard he’s won the Smarties Award at school.”
Bert laughed. “Yeah, they only gave it to him ‘cause he’s always such a good boy. Not like the rest of us. Ernie’s got horses**t for brains.”
“Him and B. Bird,” said Elmo. “How the hell’d B. Bird get it? He’s even stupider than Ernie.” He pulled his hot leather jacket around him tighter. “S’ damn cold out,” he muttered.
Zoe swallowed. “Must be all those football injuries. His brain probably fell outta his ears.”
No one laughed. Guys never laughed any more at girls’ jokes. Goddammit, why had she said that? They must think she was an idiot.
Elmo rolled his head around, cracking his neck.
“Big Bird’s such a prude,” he said to Bert. “I heard the other night at Cookie’s Abby Cadabby came onto him and he wouldn’t take it out for her.”
Bert cracked up. “Yo man, I wouldn’t take nothing out for her either. Can’t blame ole B.B.”
“Abby Cadabby?” said Zoe with disgust. “She’s such a slut. I hate her.” She added to Bert, “And you don’t got nothing to take out anyway.”
Elmo threw back his handsome red head and whooped with laugher. “Oh, man! She just dissed you, man!” He slapped Zoe on the back and she smiled what she hoped was her coolest prettiest smile, pleased to have elicited a reaction out of him.
“HEY!” a voice bellowed suddenly. Elmo stopped laughing and all three of them whipped around. A hefty-looking fat man was waddling down the sidewalk towards where they were sitting, waving his fist furiously.
“S**t, it’s that old fart Jenkins!” Zoe exclaimed. She grabbed Elmo’s hand and together they leaped over the rail. Bert was hot on their heels.
Zoe dared to glance back and they pelted away, she yanking the slightly unminded Elmo behind her. Mr. Jenkins’ many chins wobbled angrily as he shouted at them. “Get out of here, you filthy scoundrels! Stay away from this street! Don’t you ever come back!”
The three teens bolted around the corner and fled into a narrow alley between the Laundromat and the co-op. There they bent over, panting, hands on their knees. Elmo started giggling.
“Christ,” said Bert, kicking angrily at a trash can. It fell over with a crash that made Zoe wince and bags of garbage spilled out. Bert ignored this. “Why the f**k can’t we smoke there? We’re not hurting nobody.”
“Yeah, we can smoke if we want,” Elmo snickered. “It’s a free country, right?” And he collapsed in helpless giggles once more.
Bert punched him in the stomach. “Oh, shut up.”
All three of them had dropped their joints, and there was no way they could go back and get them, so they lay low in the alley for another hour while Elmo came off his buzz. Zoe spent most of the time staring across the street at Sam’s Pie Bakery. It had been a bustling place once, full of people going in and out, the scent of hot fresh pies moving through the door every chance it got. But good old Sam had moved on, and like almost every store on Sesame Street, the place had been shut down, and had grown dilapidated.
Elmo slowly unwound.
“Walk him home, will you, Zoe?” said Bert. He walked off before Zoe could answer or say anything at all.
“Jerk,” she muttered. To Elmo she said, “We should go.”
He sighed and stood up. “Yeah, come on, I got other s**t to do.”
They headed home together. It was almost evening and the sun’s light was smeared scarlet across the sky.
Elmo stuffed his hands in his pocket and gazed ahead as they walked. “God,” he said. “I can’t believe we’re gonna be seniors. F**king seniors, Zoe! Can you believe it?”
“I can’t,” she said, feeling rather nostalgic herself.
“And college,” Elmo went on. “Man, I can’t wait. Crazy parties, hot chicks, total freedom…”
“What are you thinking about doing?” Zoe asked him. “As a major?”
Elmo snorted. “Why should that matter? I don’t care.” He glowered around him. “I just want to get out of here, that’s all.”
Zoe swallowed her reprimand. “I can’t blame you. This place is awful.”
“Yeah,” Elmo agreed, and she thought she heard a little sadness in his voice. “Remember when we were kids and it was so vibrant? Best place on Earth. And now—”
He stopped short, but he didn’t need to finish his sentence; Zoe understood what he meant.
Elmo’s house was not far from her apartment. It was a mess these days. The paint was peeling, the shingles were dark from age, and the wood on the front porch was warped and splintering.
Elmo kicked a rock at the front gate. “Well, I’ll see you around, Zoe.”
“See you, Elmo.”
She watched him slouch up to the door out of her peripheral vision. So cute. Didn’t he know how much she liked him?
Zoe continued on, feeling gloomy.
Her apartment was in a—surprise—run down old building with loud toilets and plumbing, scratching sounds in the walls and ceilings, and creaky floorboards. She lived with her mom on the fourth floor, above all the old creeps. Which was fine with her.
As she tramped up the steps, she passed Big Bird, fresh home from football practice. His jersey was stretched across his powerful shoulders, and he swelled of sweat and grass.
“Hey, Zoe,” he said, nodding to her.
“Hey,” Zoe replied, averting her eyes. B.B. was nice, she supposed, but she wasn’t into football players. She was into slouching, dragging, red-furred—
“Um,” said B.B. Zoe stopped, surprised, a few steps above him. He was still on eye level with her. “You know Homecoming?” he said nervously. “I know it’s still weeks away, but…do you want to go with me?”
“Oh—” said Zoe, completely thrown. “Um—I—I have to think about it, Big Bird, but I’ll—I’ll let you know, okay?”
His face lit up with hope. “All right,” he said eagerly.
Now feeling, if possible, even worse, Zoe climbed the stairs to her apartment, took out her key, and walked in. To her relief, Mom wasn’t home yet—she couldn’t smell the pot on Zoe.
Zoe went into her room and shut the door. She turned on her speakers and turned her iPod way up. Papa Roach blasted through the room.
She pulled her backpack out of her closet and threw it beside her bed before rummaging for school supplies. She had plenty of pens and pencils, but most of her notebooks were half-used, her binders broken, and her folders coming apart at the bind.
Zoe collapsed on her bed, a lumpy mattress too small for its wooden frame. She was exhausted and achy, a common effect of the buzz. School started tomorrow, Big Bird had asked her out, and Elmo didn’t notice her the way she wanted him to. Judging by these events, it was not going to be a good day back.
) I thought this was very interesting...it's not everyday you heat Elmo or Bert cussing out another muppet 
. I liked how original this is, and you did a good job of painting images in my head, good descriptive devices.
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