Scenario:
Tony stands on a street corner, waiting for a "ride". He needs $30.00 to buy a hit which will get him through the night and into tomorrow. He is already getting "sick", which decreases his chances of getting a ride as time passes. The peak cruising hours have already passed and his need for dope grows stronger.

1.     I watched the guy drive past, idly wondering if his shiny black truck was a gift, or if he actually bought it himself. Probably a gift. The guy had that ‘daddy's boy' look for all of his twenty-some years. The look that says his money comes free and easy.

2.     God, I hate people with money almost as much as I hate people who get their money from their parents.

3.     I lit another cigarette, only three left, and walked across the street toward the phone booth.
   Not planning to call anyone, of course, but to fake out the Blues. Any of them would bust me hard if I get caught standing the street, but on the phone they can't touch me. They don't need to know I ain't got a dime to my name.

4.     I shivered even though the night was warm, and lifted the receiver to my ear. I stuck an imaginary quarter into the slot and dialed my imaginary number just in time. Rolston was right on schedule, rounding the corner in that flat-footed shuffle he had.     My imaginary conversation got under way as he glared at me through the scratched glass. He knew what I was doing, of course. But he couldn't take the risk that I might actually be legit for a change. I watched him watching me out of the corner of his eye for a moment, then dug into my pocket. Another imaginary quarter in the slot, and Rolston might think I am making a long distance call. Let him think it's my parents or something.

5.     I damn near dropped a load when someone tapped the glass. Even before I turned around, the door opened behind me.
       "Calling for take-out, Tony?" Jason leaned against the metal frame, grinning like an idiot.
       "What? Did I scare you?"
       I put my hand over the mouthpiece. Gotta keep up appearances, you know.
       "Shit yes. Now chill. I am calling long distance." In my mind, I could hear the imaginary operator asking for another $2.00 for three more minutes.
       I grinned at Jason, and tilted my head toward the cop who was watching us both. Jason nodded and stepped away from the booth. He would be just as legit in waiting for the phone to be free.
   
       Yeah right.

6.     Rolston gave up and moved down the street. I hung up a minute later and stepped out of the booth. Jason craned his head, looking for the Blue who was already turning the corner.
       "How much did you get?" I asked. Jason's ride had been the black truck that drove past my corner.
       "Forty." I whistled. Forty dollars was a good take this time of night.
       "Not bad. Where did he take you?" For forty bucks I could guess, but I had to sound interested if I was gonna have a chance of getting him to part with any of his green. Jason shrugged. "We went to the bookstore. What did you expect?"
       "I figured as much. Do you think you could spot me? I can pay you back tomorrow." By the twisted feeling in my guts, I was beginning to wonder if I would last that long.
       He shook his head. "Sorry dude." I am gonna coast tomorrow. Gotta buy double for that."
       "I got ten, Jason. Maybe we could split? I don't need much." Jason was shaking his head even before I got all the words out of my mouth. I scratched my arms absently, not even listening to his apology.
       "Don't sweat it, Jason." I said when he shut up. "I only need twenty more anyway. I just hope Skids is still out tonight. He'll sell me large."
       "He was on Sixth, last time I saw him." Jason waved his hand toward the street. "That was a while back."
       "I know. I saw Lexis told me a couple hours ago and she mentioned it." Jason nodded. "I'll tell him you are looking to buy when I see him."
       My guts twisted again and for once, I was glad I hadn't had anything to eat yet. I shook my head.
       "Don't say anything to him. I don't want him thinking I stiffed his ass if I can't make it in time.
       "You getting bad?" Jason watched me scratch my arms, which was answer enough for any other junkie to understand.

7.     I started across the street, not really caring if he followed. If he wasn't gonna set me up, I was done with him.
       "Ride a rich bitch!" He called when I was halfway across. I waved it off but did not turn around.
       I put my back to the rust colored bricks and waited.

8.     A Honda Accord drove around the corner half an hour later. Its ‘black cherry' paint job looked like blood under the street light as it passed. The driver stared at me as he slowed and I nodded. He pulled to the curb and stopped.
       I ran to meet him.

9.     I hunkered down on the passenger side to look at the driver as he rolled down the window.
       "Hey. Hows it going?" I asked casually. I didn't want to come off as eager.
       "Its all good." He spoke calmly, even though he was breathing kinda funny. His right hand lay across his thigh, next to his pocket. His left hand was lost in the shadows between the door and the seat.
       Not a good sign.

10.    I decided to take the chance. Or rather, the way my legs were aching and the wave of nausea I was currently drowning in made my decision for me.
        "What are you into?" I tried not to let my voice shake too much. His right hand twitched a bit closer to his pocket.
        "Lots of fun things." He said, his breath quickening. "What about you?" I knew he was stalling, trying to decide if I was a narc. I felt the back of my throat catch, and I fought bach the urge to cough. I tried to smile, but even in the shadows I knew the sight must have been grim.

11.     "I ain't no cop, mister. Wanna take a ride?" I blurted the words out in a rush, just ahead of a loud coughing fit.
        He flinched at the sudden sound, unnaturally loud in the still summer air. I shivered again, knowing I was about to lose him. His empty left hand came up to grip the wheel even before his right took hold of the gear shift.
        "Wait, please!" Caution was gone, replaced by a feeling of dread. "I'll do whatever you want, man. Just name it."
        He shook his head as he dropped the car into gear. "No thanks."
        The Honda roared away, barely giving me time to get my head out of the window. I tipped backward, sitting down on the concrete with a bony thump.
        "Asshole." I muttered, hugging my knees to my chest. I started rocking, barely noticing the small pebbles under my butt.

12.     I don't know how long I sat like that, but a feeling of urgency that had nothing to do with my need got me moving. Surely Rolston was due for another round and if I got busted, there was no way I was gonna get a hit in the slam.
        I dug into my pocket and lit a cigarette. My stomach cramped as I stood, folding me in half like a sheet of paper. I managed to straighten, and stumbled down the street looking for inspiration.

13.     The clerk of the Quickie-Mart was mopping the soda aisle as I came through the sliding doors. The swish sounded like a hissing snake and I coughed. Her smile faded as she looked up at me and I knew what she was seeing. My hair was greasy and my nose was running. I didnt need a mirror to know my face was puffy and my eyes were bloodshot. I ignored her as I scanned the aisles, looking for something to lift.
        "Don't I know you?" The clerk was peering at me. I jumped, startled by the sound of her voice.
        "I don't think so." I mumbled, abandoning all thoughts of busting the place. Not a wise choice if someone can identify you.
        "Sure I do. It's Tony, right? We were in geometry together." She smiled hopefully. I shrugged. "I guess so. I don't really remember." I lied.
        I did remember her, and I wish I hadn't.
        Her smile faded. "Oh. That's too bad because I remember you. You were always so smart. What happened to you? Why did you break our date that night?" Her eyes tried to catch mine and failed.

14.     "Because I found the needle that night, you stupid bitch!" I shouted inside my head, angry at the flood of memories her questions unleashed. Memories of bright sunshine and cars, and pouty lipped girls with long, long legs. All of the things I left behind when I stuck the dart for the first time.

15.     "I don't know. I guess I kinda lost track of things." I said out loud. "Listen, it was good to see you again, but I gotta go. You take care, Ok?"
        I stumbled out through the hissing snake doors, ignoring her protests, not wanting to see the hurt in her eyes.

16.     I ran across the parking lot and slipped around the corner like a broken shadow. I stopped to lean against the wall, gasping for air. Another wave of nausea knocked me to my knees. I crawled on all fours to huddle in the darkened doorway and blow imaginary chow. The gagging subsided, leaving a hard knot in my stomach. I wiped away the drool with the back of my hand and sat up. I started coughing and I hugged my knees to my chest, trying to keep myself from blowing apart. Somewhere in the night, a police siren wailed.
        "Six up," I thought stupidly and coughed again. I barely noticed the sound grow louder as I stared at the corner window display with watery eyes. A tiny spotlight illuminated a large vase of roses, scarlet splashes against a sea of dark green.

17.     "I remember roses." I whispered as I pressed my face against the glass and cried.