Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 154525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 773(@200wpm)___ 618(@250wpm)___ 515(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 773(@200wpm)___ 618(@250wpm)___ 515(@300wpm)
“And you have to go have dinner with him tonight,” Frankie said.
“Yep.”
That’s why his hands still trembled although it could have been the remaining molly and whatever garbage it had been cut with still in his system.
“Anyway,” Nico muttered, picking up the brown bag and shaking it between them. “I had a better point than all of that about Carmine, and it’s also about that listening thing.”
Her right eyebrow lifted in suspicion. “What do you mean?”
Nico lit another smoke, making Frankie ugh under her breath, while he dug the first item they needed to talk about out. Well, two items. Nasal and oral Narcan medication.
“Carmine educated me about safe partying the next summer because guess who came back and went hard again. Only, I had heartbreak and teenage angst, and a brother I hated all over again to back all the reasons why I was gonna get high and fuck every single night.”
“That was the year your girlfriend—”
“Fucked my brother, yeah,” he interrupted. “Let’s read a little between the lines. It doesn’t have to be complicated here.”
“Sorry.”
“And he made sure that I understood if I wanted to party, and I had partners doing it with me, I should make sure they knew how to party safely, too. Here’s the thing. I understand what’s out there because I’ve been involved in drugs, and selling them, and the market of it, not to mention, the whole scene, since before I had hair on my nuts.”
“Nico!”
“It’s true,” he said, unbothered. “My brother would feed me liquor at parties when I was a single digit age just for the laughs. I used to steal Giorgio’s weed and ecstasy for him before I could roll my own joint.”
“Jesus.”
“Back to this, though,” he said of the Narcan, shaking it. “You can’t trust what you’re putting into your body is what it is. I only know less than a few safe places to score drugs, and I don’t even do it that often now. It showed, because I didn’t know the scene in Chicago anymore. More concerning is all the kids who probably OD’d last night like I did, but they didn’t have a dad who gave a fuck about where his daughter was.”
“I don’t need to know how to use Narcan.”
“No, you do. Because when you go to college next year, or whenever you pick the school from your hat of choices to go to, those kids are going to be using all around you. Maybe you’re at a party and someone has an OD. Or maybe you have a roommate that brings someone home who does. Shit happens. Maybe you don’t want to party, but you don’t get the choice if others do. You can help somebody, if you need to.”
“I haven’t decided about college or uni—”
“Not the point,” Nico interjected, giving her a look. “People overdose in alleys. In bathroom stalls at restaurants and coffee shops. They OD behind the wheel. It happens everyday. That’s the nature of the market today.”
Finishing his second smoke, he tossed it into the to-go coffee cup. The sizzle of the coal extinguishing came with the scent of a makeshift ashtray. He then went about opening both packs of medicine and explaining how to use each one, what an early OD could look like, and where to get more Narcan.
“You should have some in your bag,” he said. “Not these, I opened them.”
As he finished, and went to light his third cigarette, Frankie spoke up.
“I need you to quit smoking, too,” she told him.
Nico froze, the lighter held up to his face as he stared down the length of the white tube and past his hands to stare at her. “Excuse me?”
“That’s your third in a half hour, and I get it’s because you’re trying to do something for your nerves, but I’m not going to be taking you to chemo appointments when we’re like fifty because you have lung cancer. Or whatever. Just stop, okay? For me?”
He pulled his hand, and the lighter away, only hearing part of her statement. “We’re gonna be together when we’re fifty, huh?”
“Not if you keep smoking.”
A snort escaped him. “If that were the case, Giorgio should be long dead by now. You’ve never smelled the cigar smoke that permeates his office. It’s fucking offensive.”
“Are you going to quit, or not?” Frankie demanded.
“Is that a deal-breaker, or what?”
“No, but...you only have one kidney, too. So, what if we have a kid someday and they need a kidney or something, but you’re the only match and now you can’t donate?”
That had nothing to do with smoking.
He didn’t point that out.
He heard something better.
“First of all, they’d get the fucking kidney. Mine or someone else’s.”
“Second?” she asked.
“Second,” Nico continued, winking and grinning, “now we’re having kids?”
Her own smile turned shy. “Yeah, someday. Don’t you think?”
“Someday,” he echoed, heart aching a little.