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Dirty drugs?

My mom’s face flashes behind my eyes.

Followed by another.

The music is pumping loud and rapid. The beats forcing my hips to sway.

Neon lights flash rapidly around, my eyes go up and find another floor where there appears to be people, but I can’t quite see them from this distance.

“Drink or no drink?” she yells in my ear.

“Outside and one drink!”

We dance our way through the crowd, navigating sharp elbows and vibrating hips until we reach the bar.

Olive manages to acquire two shots of mystery liquid, and then she leads the way to a side door.

Kicking it open, we land in a dimly lit patio area with a handful of metal tables and chairs.

There is a single woman who leans over the low gate that wraps around it. By the sounds she’s making, I can tell she isn’t having the best night.

Olive jerks her head to the table tucked hidden behind the door. I take the drinks from her, setting them down as we settle in.

“Cheers?” she offers, lifting her glass.

I eye the mystery liquid. “What did you get us?”

Her eyes twinkle in mischief, and her lips quirk.

I lift it to my nose inhaling.

Peppermint and cinnamon.

This bitch.

“It’s a fire and ice. This drink was MADE for us. And you said one drink so…”

“Fuck, fine!” We cheers, and I gulp the offending liquid.

Wiping my mouth, I stare at my friend.

I lean forward and push out. “You said dirty drugs…”

Olive keeps her glass in her hand as she stares appraisingly at me. “The same shit is making its rounds again. There were two ODs at my last show.”

“Green blood?”

“Yep.” It’s clear she doesn’t want to get into this.

And I don’t blame her.

I don’t want to either.

My dirtiest. Darkest. Secret.

So I shift the subject entirely.

“Tell me that I should keep falling into small business-hood and not give up.”