Heroin(e)

Chapter Eighteen

My fingernails tapped on the sides of my mug. The steam hit me in the face and I hardly noticed it. My leg bounced like crazy and I could see Joe looking at me out of the corner of my eye. "You okay over there, Esther?" he asked.

"Huh?" I looked up to see him furrowing his brow. "Oh, I'm fine," I lied. I was far from fine. I was out of work for a month and I had to make do with having nothing but coffee and one egg for dinner at the Silver Dollar Diner. Joe was surprised to see me at this time of day but didn't ask any questions. I wondered how many hours he worked each shift. "The food is good."

"Made it with love," Joe smiled. 

Not only did I lose my job but I made the stupid decision to find a heroin dealer in London who was willing to take me in as a client. Let me tell you, it wasn't easy finding the right people. I almost asked Bon who to talk to the last time he called me but stopped myself. I didn't want him finding out. I didn't want anybody finding out. 

Speaking of Bon, he was late. He called me about an hour ago asking to meet me here at the diner. I told him I had the night off work and he seemed very eager to see me again. I was eager too, but anxious above everything. I wanted to tell him the truth about my situation but fought against it. He'd only offer to help and I didn't want to take advantage of his charity nor did I want pity. 

I would do this on my own.

The bell above the door jingled and I spun around, seeing Bon kick the March snow off his shoes. "Hey, stranger," Joe called.

"Hello," Bon smiled. He eyed me and his smile grew. "Hey, Esther." He took a seat next to me and removed his gloves, flakes of snow falling onto the counter. 

"Hey, Clark Kent," I said, noticing his Superman shirt under his coat. He laughed. 

"What'll it be then, rockstar?" Joe asked, throwing a hand towel over his shoulder. 

"I'll jus' have what Esther here had," he said. Joe raised an eyebrow.

"I think you're gonna want more than that," he said. "She came in here and ordered one egg." Bon frowned.

"One egg?" he asked. I shrugged.

"Not very hungry, I guess," I mumbled. I didn't love how they were talking about my eating habits right in front of me. 

"Offered to cook her two and she said no," Joe said. Bon looked at me with concern. "So, you still want Esther's meal?"

"Uh....maybe crack open a couple more of those." My stomach rumbled. "An' another plate for Esther."

"No, Bon, it's okay," I said. "I'm really not hungry." My stomach roared again and Bon took out his wallet. 

"Not lettin' one of my friends go hungry," Bon said, laying money on the counter. "I'm uh...sorry for bein' a bit late."

"Forget about it," I said. "I was here early."

"Band's been in for rehearsals, ya' know," he said. "They're havin' us run through each song exactly one million times for the album. We're beat."

"Should take a break," I said. "Get outside, get some fresh air."

"I'd love to," he said. "But you'll have to take it up with the warden if ya' wanna bust me out." Joe slid over a plate of eggs in our direction. He must have cooked at least four of them. "That one's yours," he said. 

"No, Bon, you have it."

"I could pick you up with my two little fingers," Bon said, holding up two fingers and pinching the air like a crab. "I'd rather you have that plate."