North & West

Three

I hadn't meant to do it. I really, really hadn't.

But one glance at the empty space underneath my desk where I usually kept bottles full of whatever alcohol I managed to get my hands on had sent me into a craving so strong I wasn't even sure I could fulfill it.

I resisted at first, throwing myself down onto my bed and crawling underneath the covers and wrapping them so tight around my body I felt like I was practicing for the day I ended up in a straightjacket – something I wasn't so sure was completely impossible.

Not even that had worked.

So with a sigh, I untangled myself from my bed's cotton prison and searched through the wooden drawers in my desk for some money, whatever money I could find. After I exhausted all four of the drawers and only found about five dollars and a handful of random change, I was about to throw a fit. And then I spotted the green twenty dollar bill pressed between one of the paperback books sitting on top of my old fashioned television.

I grabbed it and a random beanie from the hook behind my door and bounded down the steps. My mother sent me a questioningly glance, but I simply ignored her and continued making my way from the house.

The air outside was as I expected: warm and pleasant and the perfect temperature for the nights when I had to find a secret place to drink, whether it be an abandoned building or the roof of some unsuspecting neighbor – a night like this.

I leisurely made my way down the streets, happy when I didn't run into anyone I knew. I almost felt like I was an entirely different person, free and able to act and think however I wanted to. That was, until I got to my destination and saw the last person I had expected to find talking to the very person I'd come to see.

“West?”

He snapped his eyes over to me, his hand tightening around a paper bag he was holding. A decidedly guilty look appeared on his face and I glanced from him to the man with shaggy blonde waves and put the pieces together. West had come to see Kevin, the admittedly attractive in a sort of dingy-hobo-way guy who'd just handed him the bag.

Kevin had been the guy I'd gotten alcohol from since my sophomore year, and I'd only been barely sixteen then. Now, barely an adult at eighteen, I was still rushing to him each time I needed a bit of the substance to wet my lips and drown the problems I didn't want to think about, despite how illegal his business was. And it seemed West came to him for the same thing.

Deciding to confront West about it a little later, his previous proclamations about not having a problem ringing in my ears, I walked up to Kevin and held out the twenty dollar bill. “I can bring you the other ten tomorrow.” I prompted, hoping he'd agree.

To my surprise, he grinned at me, taking the bill from my hand and briefly squeezing my hand. “Forget the ten. We've been in this business for two years together, I think you deserve the discount.”

I wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so I took the bag he was holding from an outstretched hand and smiled, despite the discomfort I was feeling for his mention of my long-term buying habits in front of West.

“How you been, kid?” He asked then, starting the usual bit of small talk he did each time I stopped by to see him.

“Ah, fine, the usual,” I replied vaguely, glancing up as one of the windows in his apartment lit. For a guy who probably made plenty of money off of underage teenagers, he still lived in an apartment on the side of town that could definitely use a bit of cleaning up – putting it that way was more than an understatement.

Following my line of vision, he glanced up and upon noticing the movement of a silhouette in front of the window, gave each of us a smile, reminding me – I'd somehow momentarily forgotten – that West was with us.