In the middle of Des Plaines Illinois three boys find themselves in a tangled knot of angsty lust and amateur love.
Evan Webster has an average American life. When he isn't at swim practice or the movie theater, he's trying to make time to study bi...
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"Where's Nadine?" Evan asked, barging through the front door. He was dragging Danny with the help of Jackson.
"She's taking a bath," Bones told them, assessing his best friend. "What the fuck happened?"
Danny was babbling nonsense, groaning in pain whenever he wasn't trying to talk. His eye sockets were darkened, making him look as though he hadn't slept in days. The beds of his fingernails matched, looking bloodless.
"What's going on?" Nadine whisper-scolded, hearing the ruckus. She came down the stairs in a bathrobe, hurrying when she caught sight of the boy on the ground. "What happened to Danny?"
"We don't know," Evan explained. "He was with Tony and—"
"Tony?" Nadine questioned, kneeling beside him. "What was he doing with Tony?"
"Drugs," Chris said, standing in the background. "Probably lots of drugs."
Heather gave him a scolding side glance, taking his arm and leading him upstairs. "We'll go check on Clem," she said, wanting an excuse to cuddle the baby.
Drool was leaking out of Danny's mouth and sweat was beginning to gather on his forehead. His throat was rumbling with an agonized weep. Lifeless—that was the only way to describe him.
"You found him like this?" Bones asked.
"Not really," Evan said. "He got worse on the car ride. Spiked a fever. Started sweating. He puked out the window."
Nadine turned to Bones. "Is this an overdose?"
Bones looked skeptical. "He wouldn't...I mean, he couldn't have..."
"He needs to go to the hospital," Nadine stated.
"NO," Evan interjected, thinking of Danny's strict dad.
The white-haired boy gulped, but it was Bones who said, "He can't. He doesn't have health insurance." He paused. "It would cost a fortune. We'd have to explain everything to his parents. They'd be pissed—pissed—"
"He could die," Nadine argued, standing.
"He's not going to die," Jackson said, chewing—utterly calm.
The Webster's front hall had a single hanging light, barely bright enough to reach the staircase. Jackson sat on the first step, eating a partially squashed funnel cake. Danny had sat on it in the car.
"You don't know that," Nadine replied.
Jackson swallowed a bite. "Yes, I do. He didn't overdose. He has cotton fever."
"Cotton what?"
"Cotton fever," he repeated. "My mom has gotten it at least a dozen times. It happens to a lot of heroin users."
Nadine's eyes sprung. "Heroin? You think he's doing heroin?"
"Look at his skin. His veins," Jackson pointed out. "He's doing heroin. He probably used a dirty filter."
"You mean...? Like an infection?" Evan wondered, not used to being the ignorant one.
"I guess," Jackson shrugged. "It usually wears off in a couple hours. But we should try to keep the fever down."
Nadine glanced out the window. The sky was pitch black, but she didn't let that stop her from saying, "Someone get some ice." She had to help Danny, even if that meant staying up all night.
Bones was the first to reply, asking, "What's closer? McDonald's or Burger King?"
"You're hungry too?" Jackson questioned.
"No, idiot," Bones said. "They sell bags of ice. Ten pounds for sixty-nine cents."
Jackson's eyebrows lifted. "So no fries?"
Bones may have gotten violent if he hadn't just become a father. He shoved past Jackson on the way out the door, unamused at the redhead's lack of seriousness.
