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Yeah, me too. “Water
under the bridge,” I
answer. What
else can I
say—I
want your cash?
But it’s really hard to
look at him, especially after
just being with my baby. His
baby. Our baby. God, that stings.
He Wants a Sample
I’m generous with that.
We smoke three bowls,
and as the ice does what
it’s supposed to do, his
eyes take on the glow
of the monster. Major
déjà vu. Have I made
an irreversible mistake?
Not bad, he says. You
fucking the guy you
got it from? There’s
the Brendan I know
and hate. The worst
part is, he’s right. “No,
he’s fucking me. So,
are you in or what?”
A slip of the tongue,
and he pounces on it.
It might be a little tight,
