I take the light bulb from Marcus, set it on my lap, then reach for my phone. I’m pissed off and totally ready to give whoever it is a mouthful. But then a text message flashes across the screen.

Nova: I know I’m probably bugging the crap out of you right now, but I really, really need to talk, so if you can call me, please do. And sorry for bothering u.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” I mutter because the moment I see her name on the screen, I know I have to get up and walk out. I can’t be here. If not for myself or anyone else, for her. Nova. The girl who brought me back the first time, despite how hard it was on her own life. The girl I look forward to talking to every day. Jesus, she’s become more important to me than drugs. More important than maybe anything else.

Marcus looks confused as I get up, terrified by my thoughts. “I have to go,” I say, and then I hand him back the light bulb, despite how much I don’t want to.

Marcus’s brows furrow as he takes the light bulb from me. “You sure?”

I nod, putting my phone into my pocket. “Yeah, I have to call someone.”

He gives me a baffled look, which is completely understandable—walking away is hard. Everyone in this world knows that and yet here I am doing it, even though it’s almost physically painful to leave.

He gets to his feet, sticking his hand into his pocket as he walks around the coffee table. “I’ll walk you out.”

I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’m baffled. Stunned. Shocked beyond reason, as my feet guide me toward the door, away from the need, the craving, the want, all because Nova texted me and reminded me that unlike the first time I did drugs, I’d be messing something of a life up this time by making the choice.

When we get to the front door, Marcus finally takes his hand out of his pocket and I notice he’s got a plastic bag in it. “So here’s the down low. Since you were such a good friend of mine before you took off, I’m going to give you a freebie.” He sticks his hand toward me. “I don’t usually do that for clients, but I’m gonna for you because I know once you get a taste, you’re gonna be back.” He grins like he’s got everything all figured out.

I stare down at the bag filled with tiny white crystals. “I don’t…” Give it back to him.

“You don’t what?” His forehead creases. “Shit. Did I read you wrong?” His fingers close around the bag with panic in his eyes. “I heard you were into this shit, but I guess I heard wrong.”

I shake my head. “No, I was… am… it’s just…” I don’t even know what I’m saying, so instead I stick out my hand, my fingers trembling, and I wonder if he notices or if he’s too high.

He drops the bag into my hand. “It’s the best in town,” he says, like it matters. It doesn’t. Not to most crackheads, anyway. “And it can be an early Christmas present.” He says it like he’s doing me a favor giving it to me. But he’s not. I know it. He knows it. Because we both know that if I do the line, I’ll more than likely be back for more.

“Thanks,” I mumble, putting it into my pocket and then reaching for the doorknob, both relieved that I have it and at the same time angry with myself. “I’ll catch you later.”

“Definitely.” He backs away toward the hallway. “In fact, I’m betting you’re going to be back really soon for more.”

I force a smile and then open the door and step out of the house. The cold air hits my lungs like bricks and my legs feel like lead as I trudge down the stairs and head for my house a few blocks down. I feel like I’m dragging weights behind me and the bag of crystal in my pocket starts to take over my thoughts. Finally I take the phone out of my damn pocket and dial Nova’s phone number, just so I can stop thinking about what I almost did. What I still may do.

“Hey,” she answers after two rings, and it’s clear she’s been waiting for my call, which makes me feel bad, especially because of what I was just doing.

“Hey,” I reply, rounding the corner. “What’s up? Your text message sounded sort of panicky.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” she says with a sigh. “I’m just having a rough day and needed to talk so I don’t have to think.”

Sometimes she sounds so much like me it freaks me out. Although my reasons are different, we still both like to avoid thinking sometimes.

“Why was your day rough?” I shove my hand into my coat pocket and grab my cigarettes, hoping a little nicotine will calm me the fuck down and maybe give me the strength to throw away the crystal in my pocket.

“I don’t know…” She wavers. “A lot of things, but one is that Lea wants me to cheat on my band.”

“Cheat on your band?” I take a cigarette out of the pack and put it between my lips. “How exactly does that work?”

She sighs. “By playing for her band, which is going to upset my band members.”

I cup my hand around the end of my cigarette and flick the lighter. “So why didn’t you just tell her no?” I blow out smoke as I take the lit cigarette out of my mouth.

“Because I owe her,” she explains to me. “For being there for me.”

“Oh, I get it.” I head up the sidewalk toward my house, the porch light’s on because it’s nearly sunset. “So why don’t you just explain that to your band? Maybe they’ll understand.”

“Because it’d be weird,” she says. “One of them is really serious and then the singer… well, he used to date Lea and any sort of mention of her makes things awkward.” She blows out a deafening breath as I enter my house. “But anyway, can we talk about something else?”

I glance around at my empty house, pulling a face at the boxes. In most houses there’s probably Christmas presents and I get packing boxes, reminding me that I’m going to have to make a huge decision soon. “Yeah, like what?” I trot up the stairs, slipping off my coat.

“I don’t know.” She hesitates. “Actually, I do have something to tell you, but I’m not sure how you’re going to take it.”

I kick my bedroom door open with my foot and toss my coat onto my bed. “Should I be worried?” I stuff my hand into the pocket of my jeans, take out the bag, and stare at it with a familiar needy burn inside my chest. What do I do with this? Throw it away? Keep it? Devour it?

“Well, I’d say no,” she says as I clasp my hand around the bag, my palms coated with sweat. “But I might be wrong.”

“Okay, well, tell me. I think I can handle it.” Such a lie, especially since I have a bag of crystal in my hand, waiting to soothe me if I need it. But I don’t want to need it. I just want to be free, yet I can’t let it go.

“I have some of your sketches,” she blurts out.

“What? How?” My hand tightens around the bag as I try to focus on Nova and not it.

“Because when I went back to look for you after you’d disappeared in Vegas… I picked some up off of your bedroom floor.”

“Why would you do that?” I wonder, not upset, but a little puzzled.

“Because I was worried they’d be lost if I didn’t,” she explains. “And I know they’re important to you.”

I sink down on my bed, staring at the empty spot on the wall where the photo I took down used to be. “What were they of?”

“Um… you… me…” She catches her breath. “Lexi.”

Elongated silence follows. I’m not sure how to react to hearing her say Lexi’s name. It feels warped and wrong, but at the same time I can’t get mad at her. In fact, the idea of yelling at her is impossible.

As I sift through my emotions, trying to figure out what I feel, I distractedly put the bag of meth underneath my mattress beside Nova’s unopened letter. “I don’t know what to say,” I tell her as I get up from the bed. “I mean, I’m sort of glad you have them, because they’re my sketches and everything, but still… I drew them when I was high.” High on the same thing I just hid under my mattress. Jesus, I just need to find a way to throw it away. I never should have taken it to begin with.

“That’s okay. I just wanted you to know that I have them in case you want them back,” she says. “I could mail them to you if you want me to.”

“No, hold on to them.” I grab a pair of pajama bottoms and a T-shirt and head for the shower, needing to get space from the crystal. Plus, the walk home was freezing and I need to thaw out, wash the crappy day off me.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” I push open the bathroom door and shut it behind me, releasing a breath of relief at the distance. I didn’t even realize what it was doing to my body and mind just having it on me. So heavy and weighted. Such a burden.

I turn on the faucet water, letting it warm up, then unbutton my pants. I decide to get rid of the crystal when I get out of the shower. Then I won’t choose the empty path.

“What’s that noise?” Nova asks.

“I turned the shower on,” I tell her, even though I don’t really want to get off the phone with her. Just talking to her… well, I’ve calmed down a lot. “I was outside working and I’m frozen to the bone and filthy.”

“Oh.” She pauses, then asks, “Are you going to talk to me while you take a shower?”

I’m unzipping my pants but pause, trying to decipher if there’s a hidden meaning to her words. If she’s just asking a simple question or trying to be dirty with me. She never usually is, so I don’t have a clue how to read her. “Do you want me to keep talking to you?”

She wavers with uncertainty. “Well, I don’t want to stop talking to you, so…”

I still can’t read her at all. “But the phone will get wet.”

“Put it on speakerphone and set it close to the shower,” she suggests, and I can detect the slightest bit of nervousness in her voice, which makes me wonder what she’s thinking. “And turn the volume all the way up.”

“But won’t it be weird?”

“Why would it be weird?”

“Because I’d be… taking a shower while we were talking.”

“Yeah, so?” The nervousness in her voice is more attractive to me than it should be.

I’m definitely starting to get the impression that she’s not just being naïve about the situation. That she knows exactly what she’s doing and is enjoying herself. I hesitate. I know I’m being a fucking pussy about it, which is weird because I’ve slept with a lot of women over the last couple of years. But I barely knew any of them and there was no emotional connection. Plus, I was always either drunk or high. Being sober is different because I can feel. Everything. And the whole point to having sex, at least in the past, was to numb myself. Plus, I just brought drugs home with me, which makes me feel like a dick because she doesn’t know that.

“But I can let you go if you want me to,” she says, almost saddened.

It’s her sadness that makes me say what I say next. “No, it’s fine… we can keep talking.” I start to get undressed. “Tell me more about your band,” I say, hoping to sidetrack myself from how unsteady I feel at the moment, wobbling on the tightrope, about to fall.

“There’s not much to tell, really,” she replies. “It’s just three guys and myself hanging out in a garage most of the time.”

“It sounds like I should be jealous.” I shuck off my shirt while holding the phone, which is difficult, but I manage to get it done.

“Of the band? Nah, they’re harmless. Besides, I think they think of me as one of the guys.”

“I doubt that.” I set the phone down on the countertop beside the shower, then turn up the volume.

“If you say so,” she says with uncertainty. “But anyway. There is something pretty cool happening.”

“And what’s that?” I raise my voice as I pull the shower curtain back.

“We got our very first gig,” she tells me as I step into the shower. Her voice fades a little but I can still hear her, even when I step under the stream of water. “And I’m not talking about playing at some club because it’s open band night. I’m talking about opening for another band because we were chosen to. How cool is that?” She sounds so happy.

I smile as I let the water run over my body. “Pretty fucking cool.” I rub the water away from my eyes. “Who’s the band?”

“Peaceful Injustice.”

“Never heard of them.”

“Yeah, they’re not that well known, but I love them. In fact, I have a huge band crush on them.”

I reach for the soap, her comment deflating my mood. “Sounds like I should be worried.”

“Nah. I promise you have nothing to worry about.” Silence takes over the line, but I can hear her softly breathing if I strain my ears and listen. “What are you doing right now?”

I pause, so many dirty responses racing through my mind I can’t even think straight. “Taking a shower.”