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Me: How do you know I can’t see you? ::wink::
Me: OK the wink didn’t make that any less creepy.
TJ: Made it worse, if anything.
Me: I’m getting sleepy. Nighty night.
TJ: See you tomorrow.
TJ: And Carla?
Me: Yeah?
TJ: What you said meant a lot.
TJ: About Superman needing help sometimes.
Me: I meant it.
TJ: Your ex is an idiot for letting you go.
My stomach flops. You cannot get butterflies. He’s your boss. I say thanks and tell him good night. Exhaling, I roll over and drift to sleep.
I have a dream that I’m on top of the Chrysler building and TJ’s climbing it with his bare hands to come rescue me.
Chapter Sixteen
The Past
TJ
Everything is blurry.
There’s a pounding in my head. I rub my eyes and pull myself up to a seated position.
The room is dark. Tarps hanging from the ceiling surround me, ladders and buckets scattered throughout the room. A chilly breeze blows against my skin from a broken window.
Warm wetness covers my hand as I push off the ground. White, chunky vomit. I look down and my shirt’s covered in it. The downside to heroin.
My clean hand flies to my pocket, but it’s empty. I won the fight tonight, so there should be a few hundred bucks in there. I check my other pocket. Nothing but lint.
After the fight, I fucked a hot brunette. Then she’d asked if we could shoot up together. Sonofabitch. She robbed me.
I tear my shirt over my head and wipe the puke from my hand and around my mouth. Once I step outside, I make my way to my favorite restaurant. Their steaks are the best, and I’m hankering for one now that my stomach is empty.
I turn the corner and walk halfway down the alley. Raising my swollen knuckles to the door, I knock. One of the bus boys opens and holds up his index finger. I lean against the bricks and wait. In a few minutes, he reopens the door and hands me a plate: one half-eaten steak with mashed potatoes and two pieces of broccoli left. Jackpot. I devour the leftovers and leave the dish on the ground in the alley. Free meals, compliments of being Bobby’s friend.
“I thought that was you.”
I spin around and come face to face with Reggie.
“Dumpster diving, TJ?” His tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth. “You’re really living large.”
“Fuck you.” I shoulder past him, but he catches my wrist.
“You don’t have to go down this path.”
“There is no other path for me. I don’t have a choice.”
