Wide Open Read Free Page A

should have taken it, and would have had it been anyone else, but I didn't want his money.
    I walked for a long time to a friend's apartment over the Irish Mug bar. Not only would he let me crash, but more than likely he had some smoke he'd front me. After Mason's little haphazard intervention, I needed it. I crossed the street to the bar and heard the honking before seeing the bright lights. I raised my hand and saw the car screeching to a stop right in front of me. The driver cursed and honked. I flipped him off and kept walking across the road. I heard him peel away as I climbed the stairs on the side of the building to my friend's apartment. The bar was hopping; the music was so loud I couldn't even hear my footsteps on the stairs.
    I knocked, but knew my friend couldn't hear me, so I tried the handle. When it turned, I pushed it open. He had called me a few times, but I never checked my messages. My phone was basically a drug ferry. I never used it except for making a drug buy or to find a friend to stay with because minutes cost too much for someone who never had money. I had odd jobs sometimes, but after you don't show up on time for a few days in a row, they can you. That was the only way I could buy minutes and buy weed on a regular basis. Usually, I floated until my next paycheck, whenever that may be, and friends would front me things if I didn't have the money.
    But I was a little behind right now and owed a few people. Okay, a lot of people, and a lot of money. Even the friend I was going to see had threatened to cut me off if I didn't pay him something. I usually avoided the ones I owed money to.
    I'd gotten into the other side of the business a couple times, but didn't sell much of it when I smoked it or snorted it instead. I had my foot broken once for not paying up when they realized the drugs were all gone and it was me who had used them.
    I still walked with a little limp because I couldn't go to the hospital without them calling Mason or my mom. My friend put a makeshift cast on me, and I practically dragged the thing for a few weeks.
    Nikko's place was dark, and I couldn't hear anything but the noise below us. I turned the corner to find him on the couch, some girl on his lap. I turned around to keep her naked behind out of my sight. I heard him curse.
    "Milo! What the hell, man?"
    "Sorry, uh…" I peeked back, but it was still too soon and turned back around. "I wanted to see if I could crash here."
    "Damn it, Milo…" He kissed her, I heard the smacking, and told her he'd see her later, that he needed to take care of something. She walked by me and gave me a sullen look for ruining her night. I turned to find him pulling a black wife-beater on. "Dude, you can't just come in like that."
    "I knocked. The music's too loud." I stuffed my hands into my pockets. "Let me crash, okay?"
    "Milo." He shook his head. "You look like a heap of hell, man."
    "That's because I haven't had anything all day and my nosey brother wanted to flaunt his hot girlfriend in my face."
    He sighed. "There's nothing wrong with getting lit on the weekends and making a living off selling, but you...you're not just having fun anymore. You're hooked. You're hooked, messing with deals you shouldn't, and people are looking for you." He took a step forward and looked at me sadly. "I tried to help you. I knew you had it rough at home, but…you can't stay here, man. Go."
    Oh. It wasn't sadness he had for me—it was pity.
    "Just for the night," I begged.
    "I can't." He gulped and leaned against the kitchen bar. "Mikey's looking for you. And…so is Roz. Go. Now."
    The curses piled in my head. I knew I owed Roz money, but for him to start actively looking for me wasn't good for my health.
    I needed a place to stay and I needed…something, anything to make me stop shaking and scratching. It felt like ants were in my veins, and Nikko needed to give me something. "Fine," I bit out. "Just…float me a J."
    "You already owe me for ten joints, not