dirty.

"Dude," She said, "That's like, fucked up."

"So what?" He said, "Just because I was addicted to coke once upon a time doesn't mean I'm not allowed to have aversions to other drugs."

"You just said that herione was a poor persons drug, that's a rich thing for you to say."

He supposed she was right. Heroin was a different animal than cocaine. Cocaine was for the rich kids, the groupies, the superstars. Heroin was, well, the same, but it had a stigma that was meant for the overdoses that nobody talked about, the quiet states, the people freezing to death outside on the street.

"Okay," He agreed, watching her light a cigarette, "But I'd never touch it. Needles freak me out. Just thinking about shooting anything..."

She laughed as he shivered in disgust. He wanted to smoke. He wanted to vomit.

"So." She blew the smoke in an almost ring. "This dealer or whatever, you're gonna beat him up?"

"Absolutely," He laughed, flexing his fingers. "Okay, I'm gonna go back inside now. My father'll be real pissed if I don't support him or whatever."

He hated his father.

"I'll join you once I'm done with this cig." Her breath showed in the cold air. "Have fun, copper."

"Don't call me that," He groaned, looking her up and down, "I'm not the dead beat of this family, okay?"