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My pulse skyrocketed. “Shane.”
Keeping his eyes trained on the windscreen in front of him, he said, “Gear guaranteed to give the desired effect.”
“No.” I shook my head. “I told you before that I don’t want heroin!“
“I know, I know,” he coaxed, holding his hands up. “But this shit just hits on a different level. It’s cheaper, too, kid.”
“How cheap?”
“What you’ve been paying for one flush of your usual will keep you good for a week in smack.”
“No. No goddamn way. I don’t do needles,” I snapped, running a hand through my hair. “I’m not a fucking junkie.“
“You don’t have to,” he was quick to explain. “You’re watching too much television. That’s brown sugar. What I’m offering you is pure. The good stuff. You can smoke it or snort it. Whatever you like, lad. It’ll make everything else feel like smarties, kid. Take my word for it.”
“I can’t,” I strangled out, staring down at the temptation in my hands. “It’s too fucking risky.“
“Not when it’s used safely,” he encouraged. “Come on, kid. Do you think I’d fuck you over like that? We’re from the same terrace. I’ve known you since you were in nappies.”
“Listen, Shane, I just need something to help me get by,” I heard myself argue, and I wasn’t sure who I was arguing with; him or me. “I’m so fuckingfuckedin the head here. I don’t need anything that’s going to make my life worse.”
“I get it,” he said, giving me an understanding nod. “Those GAA trainers are breathing down your neck, you have teachers giving you shit, and that little ride of yours has you strung up by the bollocks. You’re under pressure, kid, and need a little release. I get that. They might not understand, but I do. Don’t feel bad for needing a little help to get you through that bullshit you have to take from your old man.” I glared at him, and he held his hands up. “Your old man’s a scumbag, kid. It’s common knowledge. I’m not judging you for needing a reprieve from a bastard like that.”
That was the problem; I didneedthat reprieve.
I needed it so damn badly that I heard myself relent and say, “Fine, but only until your supplier comes good with my usual.”
“Absolutely,” he agreed enthusiastically. “Have at it, kid.”
“Fuck.” Shaking my head, I stared down at the contents of the fold and muttered, “You said I can snort it, yeah?”
“Here.“ Reaching across the seat, he took the fold from me and quickly went to work on splitting it. “This is enough at a time to get you fucked,” he explained, handing me a CD case with a small amount of powder. “Snort it like you would any other line and feel yourself relax, kid.”
“The hell am I doing?” I grumbled, as I looked around the empty carpark before taking the rolled-up fiver from his hand and leaned in close. Disgusted with myself for my weakness, I pressed the make-shift straw to my nose and inhaled deeply.
STRUNG OUT
SEPTEMBER 1ST 2004
AOIFE
Joey didn’t followme into class.
In fact, he didn’t show up until the class before big lunch.
“What the hell, asshole?” I whisper-hissed when he sank into the chair alongside mine during Business. “Where have you been?”
“I had to go home,” he explained quietly, as he withdrew his textbook and pencil case from his bag. “I, uh…”
“You what?” I asked, waiting for his answer.
Jerking, he shook his head, and mashed a hand against his cheek. “Must be out of credit.”
Suspicious, I narrowed my eyes. “Are you high?”
“No.”
“Joey.”
