Warning: smoking, cursing, addictive behavior, drug abuse (namely heroin), homophobia

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"We have to talk about this," my brother said, crossing his arms over his chest – leaning against the wall. "This," Jem waved a hand at me. "And all the other stuff has to stop."

I rolled my eyes, taking another beautiful drag from my cigarette, not moving from my position on the couch – amused. "And who, exactly, is gonna stop me? Whatcha gonna do? Yell at me? Again?"

Silence.

"That's what I thought," I said, leaning back further into the pathetic couch pillows, eyes falling shut. "Now leave me alone. Gosh, can't a girl get a moment to herself around here?" I muttered.

"We have to talk about this," Jem repeated, eyes narrowing at the cigarette in between my fingers. "You need help, Lou. I can go with you to some drug-addicts anonymous  or drive you to therapy if that's what you need to get back to normal."

"What I need is for you to leave me the fuck alone," I returned, glaring at him.

Jem's mouth curved downward, a tiny frown that I could tell he was trying not to show.  "You've changed, Lou. And not for the better," he started again.

I sighed, opening my eyes to see Jem's dark eyes meet mine. "I just grew up James – one day your small ass brain will be able to understand."

"No, Lou, you didn't grow up – you grew in."

"Stop calling me that. And besides you can't grow inward dumbass -"

"You grew selfish and cruel and – and mean," Jem pointed a finger at me. "I miss that Lou. The Lou that would play with me when I came home from school. The Lou that would sneak me one extra cookie from the cookie jar when mom wasn't looking. The Lou that would come into my room in the middle of the night because of a thunderstorm and hug me until I fell asleep," he finished, tone slightly desperate.

I just rolled my eyes. "Welcome to the real world, kid. People change.  And I said stop calling me Lou."

"The only reason you "changed" was because of this," Jem snapped, reaching behind him into his pocket holding up a plastic bag full of needles –

Full of my heroin.

I jumped up at the sight. "You little bitch," I sneered. "You were in my room! That's my business -"

"Well now it's my business," Jem took a step backwards, a step closer to me. "It became my business the moment you brought this filth into the house - gosh Lou! Mom's been clean for years and you want to tease her by making her come home after long day to find things like this sitting right on top of your goddamn dresser!"

"You weren't old enough to remember mom when she was high," I glared. "That's some of the only times I remember seeing her happy. Now we don't see her at all."

"She's going back to school and working full time, Lou. Don't be selfish."

"Don't be selfish?!" I forced a laugh. "Don't be SELFISH?! Is that what you think this is, you that I take this because I'm SELFISH?!"

"Well what else am I supposed to expect?!"

"I don't give a shit what you expect," I snapped. "Not that I'd expect you to understand, you dumbass freak. How many high school lunches have you sat alone at this week? One? Two? All five? Did you even go?"

"We are not talking about me," Jem said through gritted teeth, hands forming into fists at his side. "This conversation is about you and the unhealthy relationship you have with your body."

"And who are you to tell me what's best for my body? You think that if you run the shower and the sink that no one is going to hear the sound of you sobbing and nursing a bottle of god-knows-what that you got with your fake id? What is it that you buy? Vodka? And God knows what you actually do on Friday nights – who the hell goes to a study group on a Friday night, James? Who?"

"Well at least I haven't been using the money mom saved for me to go to college on god-damn drugs!" Jem held up the bag for emphasis.

"Well at least I have friends!" I spat, taking another drag of my cigarette – trying to calm the rage that was burning through me before I went over there and slapped that self-righteous look off his face.

"Well at least I'm not becoming friends with the wrong crowd of people," Jem looked me up and down. "Unlike some people I know."

"My friends are great, you just don't understand," I said getting to my feet, feeling my cheeks heat up and anger rising all the way from my toes.

"Your friends make you pay them so that you can get high," Jem deadpanned.

"It's more than that," I argued.

"Is it? Would you hang out with them if they didn't have drugs? Would they hang out with you if you didn't buy their shit?  Would they?  Lou?"

"Stop fucking calling me that," I sneered.  "And of course I would and they would too," I defended, though admittedly it didn't sound as convincing out-loud. "Ya know what, Jemmy? I'll cut you a deal."

I noticed how Jem winced at the use of his old nickname. I haven't called him that since before I got my first joint.

Jem blinked, surprised. "I'm listening," he said after a moment.

"You stop putting your nose in all my goddamn business and out of my goddamn room, and I won't tell mom that you're gay."

Jem gasped, dark brown eyes wide and frantic – clearly backed into a corner. It was nothing new, our mom being quite open with her homophobic views and Jem knew it. If she found out he was gay, or even had the slightest idea about him, Jem would be out on the street and guess who gets that money Mom's been saving up for Jem to go to college?

Me.

"So before you come threaten me again," I said, dropping my voice and leaning forward. "I suggest you think twice."

Jem's eyebrows pinched together, frowning all out now.  "You're bluffing."

"You really wanna test your luck?"

Jem stood there for a moment, hesitating.

He could tell I wasn't bluffing.

"Now here's what you're gonna do," I said, sly smirk already on my face. "You're gonna hand me my drugs, not say a word to anyone, and I'll make sure that you have a roof over your pretty little head, m'kay? Good," I snapped, holding out my free hand, taking another drag with my other.

"You're a bitch, Luna," Jem snapped. "And you're gonna sit here and tell me that you haven't changed for the worse? Bullshit," he held out the bag to me, eyes angry and frustrated and... and...

sad.

I laughed, snatching the bag and keeping a tight hold on it.  

"Oh Jemmy, I didn't deny that."

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