I sat in the classroom, Melissa sitting next to me, talking about the task that lay in front of us.

My leg was jumping up and down, my fingers quietly drumming on the desk. I couldn't concentrate, unable to understand what Melissa was saying. I rested my aching head in my hand, yawning since I haven't slept much. I coughed, which burnt my sore, dry throat.

Melissa put her hand on my knee to stop the shaking, staring at me. "Something wrong?"

"No."

She pulled my chin up to look into my eyes. "Are you lying to me?"

My voice was quiet as I nodded my head. "Yeah."

"What is it, Jackson?" When I didn't answer, she said, "Is it the cigarettes?"

"Yeah."

"Did you already use that last one?"

"Yeah."

She looked at me sympathetically.

I closed my eyes restlessly.

After a moment, I looked around the classroom to make sure no one was watching. Then I reached into my pocket. "Mel, take these."

Melissa looked at the pack in my hand. "Jackson, I thought you said you didn't have anymore!" she whispered furiously.

"I don't. I stole these from my dad. I can't do this, Mel. I'm about to give up. Please take these, Mel." I tried to keep my irritation at bay.

She swiftly took them and put them into her book bag.

"Thank you, Mel."

"You owe me big time."

"I know."

________________________________________________________________________

I used the syringe to measure the amount of water, then poured it in the bottle cap.

I grabbed my liter from the table, flicking it, then put it under the cap.

I waited a short while as the heroin and water dissolved.

When that was done, I set the liter back onto the table, then picked up the cotton pellet, putting it on top of the cap to use as a filter.

I stuck the needle through the cotton, drawing the liquid.

When I was finished, I turned the syringe upright to force the air to the top. Then I pushed the air out.

I let the liquid cool down for a moment.

After a while, I stretched my arm out, inching the needle closer to my skin.

Just as I was about to stick it through my arm, there was a knock at the door.

"S***!" I jumped up and quickly put the syringe into my pocket.

The door opened to reveal Melissa.

I sighed with relief.

She usually walked into the house without knocking ever since my father had moved out.

He didn't mind it anyway.

"Hey." She took a seat on the couch.

I pulled the syringe from my pocket, sitting back down.

"I brought your father's cigarettes." She set them onto the table, then eyed the syringe. "I guess I better go." She stood, heading for the door.

"Mel, it's okay. You could stay."

"I don't wanna be around you when you do that, Jackson." She gestured toward the syringe.

"Then I won't do it." I picked up the bottle cap and cotton pellet from the table, heading for the garbage can.

I forced myself to throw the items inside, then took a seat on the couch.

Melissa sat down next to me.

We were silent for a while.

Then Melissa spoke. "You need to stop this, Jackson."

"Stop what?"

"The drugs, the alcohol, the smoking."

"I did quit smoking."

"What about the drugs and alcohol?"

I sighed. "Mel, do you know how hard this is for me?"

"What about me, Jackson?! Do you know how hard it is to have a boyfriend that does drugs and drinks and just recently quit smoking?! I'm constantly worrying that, the next time you snort or inject or whatever, I won't see you again. I'm always concerned and scared that something will go wrong. What if it does?" She had tears in her eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Mel. I didn't know you felt like that. Why didn't you tell me?"

"It's not like you would have stopped any of this."

I was silent.

After a while, Melissa spoke. "I want to try it."

"What?" I looked at her.

"I want to try it, Jackson. I want a needle."

I was shocked by the way she was acting.

Seeing that I wasn't moving, she got up and went into my room.

I sat there on the couch, trying to figure out what had just happened.

Melissa came out of my room with a syringe and a small bag of heroin in her hand. She headed for the kitchen table.

Coming to my senses, I jumped up. "Mel, stop."

She didn't answer.

"Mel!"

She ripped the package open, spilling some of the contents onto the table, then poured some into the syringe. She dropped the small bag onto the table.

"You're doing it wrong. That's gonna hurt."

She put the needle to her skin, about to stick it into her arm.

I quickly grabbed the wrist of her hand with the needle in it. "Mel, stop."

She tried to get free.

"Give me the needle."

She squirmed to get out of my grip.

"Mel, give me the needle."

She beat her fist on my chest.

"Give me the needle, d***it!"

She unexpectedly slapped my face hard, tears in her eyes. "Don't you dare curse at me!"

When I recovered, I said, "Mel, I'm sorry. Please give me the needle."

"Why?! You do this to yourself all the time."

I sighed. "I know. It's a bad habit to get into, Mel. Trust me. You don't want this. I don't want this. But I can't stop. And I don't want you to end up like me. I want better for you. So please don't do this. Give me the needle. Please, Mel."

Hesitantly, she did.

"Thank you." I threw it into the trashcan, then started cleaning the table where Melissa had spilled the powder.

Melissa headed for the couch, taking a seat, tears streaming down her face.

When I was finished cleaning the table, I sat down next to her, wrapping my arms around her. "It's okay, Mel. It'll be okay."

"No, it won't, Jackson." She pushed away from me. "Don't you understand?"

I stayed quiet, listening.

"Drugs aren't okay. I can't live like this. I'm constantly worried about you, Jackson. I want you to stop all this." More tears fell as she looked into my eyes.

"I will, baby. I promise."

She pulled me into a tight hug.

I rubbed her back, comforting her.

"Thank you, Jackson."