“Well, I envyyouwith a houseful of people who care about you.”
“Maybe we can do someFreaky Fridayshit, and switch bodies.”
I snort. “All you’d do is play with your tits and get yourself off.”
“You’re not wrong.” He winks. “So, what’s your name?”
“Nix.”
“Like Stevie?”
“No, and don’t ask me to sing.” I stuff my hands into the pockets of my bubble vest. “Why is it so suffocating in your house?”
He digs the heel of his hand into his eye. “They want me to be someone I’m not. They expect me to be like them.”
“And you’re not?”
“There are two types of people in this world, Nixie: The do-gooders, and the fuckups. I’m the latter, and they can’t handle that.”
I hum. “That puts me in the same category as you then.”
His dark irises meet mine. “Is that why you’re here alone? You’re the fuckup of your family too?”
“Yup. But I don’t think your theory is correct. Life isn’t so black and white. I think we’re all a little fucked up, and it doesn’t mean we’re bad people. You can’t lump us into the same category as the Ted Bundy’s of the world.”
“I did break into your house.”
“You just said you thought it was empty. You weren’t trying to hurt me. You don’t go around kicking dogs, do you?”
He shakes his head. “People don’t see it that way though. Everyone looks at me like I’m a piece of shit. I’m just the loser junkie.”
“People resort to drugs because they’re in pain.”
Leo watches me through narrowed eyes. “It never goes away though. When the high wears off, the pain is still there.”
The pain is always there.
“We all carry around the weight of our traumas and try to survive. We do what we have to in order to cope.” I glance up at the night sky. “It’s not us who’s fucked up.Lifeis fucked up.”
He takes a long pull and holds his breath before blowing out the smoke. “How doyoucope with your trauma?”
Not very well.I swallow, rubbing my scar. But I don’t have time to answer because footsteps crunch on the concrete path followed by his brother’s deep voice. “Goddamnit, Leo. I can smell you from here.”
I snatch the blunt from Leo’s fingers just as James comes into view at the end of the alley.
His eyes bounce between me and his brother before dropping to my hand. His lips press into a firm line, nostrils flaring. “Give me that.”
I hand over the contraband, feeling like I’m back in high school even though I’m a twenty-eight-year-old woman.
James doesn’t take his eyes off me when he speaks. “Leo, get inside.”
“Maybe you should take a hit of that, big brother. You need to loosen up.” Leo pats his shoulder as he slips past him. He walks backward and mouths “thank you” before he disappears.
I squirm under James’s hard glare. “It’s just weed, James.”
“He doesn’t need to be around it. He needs to get clean.”
“Weed isn’t like other drugs. Some people need it to calm down. It helps them.”