Tricky hands me the ziploc gallon bag of meth in exchange for the bundle of cash I pull from inside my three sizes too big hoodie. "Really losing the weight there, Jagger, aren't ya?" Irritation floods my nervous system. "The day I talk about weight with a fucking meth head," I sneer, leaving the sentence to hang. A wave of nausea hits me and a cold sweat breaks put across my forehead. Tricky leaves the room and returns with a prescription bottle. "You know," he starts, "heroin's a lot cheaper and basically inevitable." My fingers wrestle with the cap, fighting it til it's off. I swallow two pills, look at Tricky and say, "Fuck off. I have a prescription to these. I just need to wait before I can refill em." He raises his hands in the air in mock surrender. "I'm just saying!" Grimacing, I thank him, grab my knapsack and head out the front door to the car. Collin is waiting in the front seat, his head resting on the steering wheel. Weak, he doesnt even raise it as I enter the vehicle. "Baby," I rub his back with one hand and feed him a couple pills with the other. "I fucking love you," he whispers, swallowing the two. "How many he give us?" he asks the steering wheel.
"Thirty," I tell him, inspecting the bottom of the bottle.
"And when can we pick up your prescription?"
"In a week... fuck!" Tricky's words rattle around my brain, but I push them aside. Calculating, I turn to Collin. "Drive us home; we'll chop up a couple and snort em."
When we walk thru the door, Iggy tosses an empty beer can at Mandy's door. "Guess who she's got over," he burps. Collin picks the can up and tosses it back at him. "Who gives a shit?" he says, walking straight into our bedroom. I walk past Mandy's room when the door opens. A half clothed Lip Gallagher pops into the hallway. "Oh, hey-uh... Jagger. You're looking... thin." His eyes travel the length of my body and I see them hesitate and pause at my stomach. "Yeah?" I snort, a wave of itches taking over my neck and face. Scratching the tip of my nose, I give him the once over, roll my eyes, and head into the bedroom.
Collin has the mirror already out and the razor blade ready. I toss him the bottle at the same time somebody knocks on our door. Iggy's voice bursts thru the wood, asking Collin if he wants to go on a beer run. "Hold on a fucking minute!" Collin's hands shake with anticipation, his eyelids drooping from the pills we swallowed earlier. "Here, mix it with this," I toss him a baggie of coke. "We need the energy."
I pull the car up to the gas station and leave it running. "Be careful," I hear myself say, the words dripping outta my mouth like honey. Collin opens the passenger side door, kisses my cheek, pulls the ski mask over his face, and cocks the pistol. I hear Iggy doing the same in the back seat. "This wont be long," Collin assures me, Iggy echoing his sentiment. The boys stalk into the store and I lean my head against the steering wheel. The Oxycontin makes my nose itch; absentmindedly, I scratch it, contemplating how one drug could make every single fucking action feel so good. A single shot jolts me from my stupor. Head bolting upright, I look thru the liquor store window. Shock courses thru my veins as I see a woman with a shotgun aimed Iggy and Collin. "JESUS CHRIST!" I yell, fighting the sedation of my mind long enough to lay on the horn. I see Iggy half carrying, half dragging Collin thru the front doors. As they make their way to the car, I see a massive red spot down the front of his leg. Iggy tosses him into the backseat and yells, "DRIVE, DRIVE, FUCKING DRIVE!!" Without hesitation, I slam my foot on the gas pedal. In the back, Collin gasps and moans. "Hos-pital," he pleas, his hand gripping his leg and his skin turning a ghoulish shade of white. A realization hits me and I nearly step on the breaks in anger. "YOU FUCKING DID THIS ON PURPOSE!" I roar, keeping knees hand on the steering wheel, while slapping his good leg with my free hand. Beneath the mask of agony, I see the trace of a smirk. Half of me is outraged, but the other half of me, the one that is floating away from the situation mentally; the half that misses Aaron; the half of me that hates walking up and feeling the gravity of it all couldn't be more pleased. "Give Iggy the gun," I instruct, slowing down and turning on the blinker. Were nearly round the hospital. "Give me the mask. Tell them you were walking to work past 18th street and caught a stray from a drive by." Collin puts the mask in my hand, his hands shaking from the loss of blood. We make it to the emergency exit, where Collin pulls himself upright and exits the vehicle. "We'll park and meet you in there," I promise, blowing him a kiss. Collin hobbles out of the car, and I speed off to the first free parking spot I can find.
