Pusher

twenty-three.

When Miles showed up at my door I was still dressed in my zebra patterned fleece pajama pants and held a carton of moose tracks ice cream in my hand. It was Friday, AKA my last day of freedom before Maverick expected me to fulfill my duties of a loyal drug dealer, and I fully intended to spend it watching Netflix and pitying my poor life decisions.

Miles had other plans for me.

"Get dressed you lard. I'm taking you to a concert." He forced his way inside and I groaned, drifting back into the kitchen.

"I'm busy trying to force myself into a vegetable state. Can't you get your sort-of boyfriend to go with you instead?" I dropped the carton of ice cream onto the counter and started digging around in the silverware drawer for a spoon.

"Who did you think we were going to see play?" he asked, as if it were obvious. He tried to keep the smile out of his voice, but I heard it loud and clear. I spun around, forgetting all about my ice cream.

"So it's serious then? You guys are really dating? I can meet him?" The questions all rushed out at once. His growing grin was answer enough and I crossed the kitchen to throw my arms around his neck.

He might be the broad shouldered giant of the family, but I was the one who gave the best bear hugs. Pulling away, I rubbed my knuckles through his messy brown hair.

"Kids, they grow up so fast," I sighed in mock reminiscence. He rolled his eyes at me, but the smile never disappeared.

It didn't take me long to change into something halfway decent looking and to throw my hair into a ponytail. Within five minutes we were barreling down the road in Miles's beat up Chevy, listening to only the most iconic '90's rap hits as he went well over the speed limit.

In all honesty, I still would much rather stay in and binge-watch Friends rather than go to some battle of the bands concert, but it wasn't often Miles told me the names of his boyfriends, let alone let me meet them.

Despite his new inclination to open up, it took me a while to weasel out that the boy's name was Grant. And of course, as soon as he shared the details of his love life, he wanted to know the name of the guy who left the giant hickey on my neck. He gave up after I stuttered out weak excuse after weak excuse, thinly masked with lies. I couldn't tell him it was Maverick. He'd go nuts, and this was supposed to be a fun night for the both of us.

The place was a little run down, home to the same town as Leo's diner, but didn't look all too dangerous. Besides, I wasn't too worried anyone would bother me with Miles right beside me. The kid was built like a brick wall. Albeit, a very clumsy brick wall, but you get the idea.

"So how's your mom like her new job?" Miles asked, filling our silence with small talk as we the music hall. The place was already swarming with people, most of them dressed in black graphic tees and covered in ink. I didn't exactly fit in, but I tried not to worry about that too much.

I shrugged. "She says it was a lot easier being a waitress when she was a busty twenty-something."

In actuality, it was a lot worse than that. Mom hated the job, but it's not like she had many other options. All those years at medical school and she was back to serving greasy burgers. As much as she insisted otherwise, I could tell it was a hit to her self esteem. Not to mention a hit to our income. Nursing paid a hell of a lot better.

I let the topic fizzle out after that.

The dark, smoke-filled auditorium was already teeming with people by the time we entered. Colored beams swept across the ceiling and crowd. Sweet, warped guitar riffs sparked through the air along with the scent of singed hair and electricity.