I drive past the bus station. Roger doesn't even notice. I keep driving and get onto the interstate. My knuckles are white from gripping the steering wheel.

"Mark, where are you going?" Roger finally figures out we have long since passed the station.

I remain silent.

"Mark, just stop driving."

I accelerate. Driving past exits, not even sure if I'm driving east, west, north or south. I don't care where I go, and I don't care where we end up, I don't ever want to stop driving. If I stop the car then I have to face what is going on with my life.

I have to face that Roger is dealing or using or both. I have to face that even though I know this, I can't help but feel what I feel towards him. I have to face what it is in fact that I feel towards him. If I stop the car, I have to face Maureen and Joanne, and my parents, and not having a place to live, not having a job or career, having wasted the last six years of my life with nothing but shit to show for it. If I stop the car, I have to face who I am.

So I keep driving.

"Mark, slow down, you are going to get pulled over." I vaguely hear Roger's protests and pleas, as I just concentrate on the feel of my foot on the pedal and the fact that it is now hitting the floor. I slide through the lanes, passing all other cars on the road. "Mark, seriously, you don't want to get pulled over. What if they search the car?"

I hear this. I pull the car across three lanes and speed off the next exit. I turn into the first gas station we come across and park. It is the middle of the afternoon. People are all over the place, but no one seems to notice us. I keep gripping the steering wheel, staring straight ahead.

"How could you?" If I look at him I will lose my nerve. "How dare you bring that shit in my mother's house!"

"I know, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking, it didn't even occur to me, I just wanted to get out of the city."

"Right, and the what the fuck is the real reason you left? Some deals go sour?"

"No, I told you, Mimi and I broke up and I had no where else to go."

"So you go running to good 'ole dependable Mark Cohen."

"No, it wasn't that. I mean, I was running to you, but because I wanted to see you, I needed to see you." He reaches across the center console and touches my leg.

"Don't." I jerk my leg away, "Just don't there, ok? THAT was a stupid idea."

"Mark, don't be like that. I can ex…"

"Don't be like what exactly? No better yet, why don't you tell me how the hell you want me to be." My voice is rising, and I turn towards him finally letting my clutch on the steering wheel go. "Tell me I should accept whatever bullshit excuse you have for carrying around that much drugs? Tell me that I should trust you because you have been nothing but honest with me. Tell me that I should believe you when you say you won't hurt me. Tell me Roger, tell me how you want me to be."

"You know what, I don't give a fuck. Whatever." He leans around the back of the car and grabs his bags, carrying them over and hitting me on the back of the head.

"Ow, watch it!" I realize what he is doing, "Oh now you are going to leave. You don't even know where the hell we are." Just then his beeper goes off again.

"Yeah, well, I'm willing to bet they have cabs or busses, or fuck it, I'll just hitch back to the city."
"Yeah, don't want to keep any customers waiting." I snap at him.

"Mark, I don't have a bullshit excuse, I have an honest one. I'll tell you if you want to hear."

"Shoot." I lean against the door, pretending to get comfortable, folding my arms in front of me."

"I needed the money. Plain and simple. Mimi and I were broke. Her meds, and mine too were getting expensive. The dancing and the band didn't even cover half, and we didn't have money for food or anything." I roll my eyes and shift positions. "Mark, she and I are sick. We can't go a day with skipping meals, or our meds. Neither of us have insurance, it was the easiest way."

"Oh right," I scoff, "Because getting a real job would be too difficult.

"A real job doing what? Who on their right mind is going to hire a high school drop out that looks like me?" I look up at him, a surprised expression on my face. "Yeah, I never told you that, did I?" I shake my head, trying to remind myself of the issue at hand. "I had a choice, work at McDonald's for $5.00 an hour, or sell drugs, to people who would be buying them anyway. I never sold to new customers."

"How noble of you."

"Look, I took the easy way out, I admit it."

"Were you using?" He takes a deep breath and doesn't answer. "I'm so fucking stupid." I take a deep breath myself. "I actually believed you were when you told me all those times you were just tired, or excited or whatever it was that you said.

"Just a few times Mark, and never heroin, just some things when I wasn't feeling good. Really, it wasn't a big deal."

"Roger, you are an addict, it is always a big deal." I close my eyes for a moment, "What about Mimi?"

"She never really stopped. When she did she just got so sick."

"Yeah, it is called withdrawal."

He nods. "I didn't want you to know. I didn't want to see that look you are giving me."

"Well take a good look, Roger, because this may be the last time you see this face." A sense of nerves and guts rises in me.

"What are you talking about?"
"Get rid of it, right here, right now. If you don't, I'll leave your ass behind and not look back. If you do, I'm here… I'm yours." I don't know why I added the last part.

He looks at me, his face looking hopeful, and then falling. "I… I can't."

"Then get out of the car."

"Mark, if I don't show up with this stuff, they will kill me. It is that simple. These aren't nice guys I am dealing with, you know."
"Well that just sucks now, don't it." I feel like a five year old. Truth is, I have no real response to him. All I can feel is the empty spot in my stomach where the butterflies were.

"Let me just take care of this, I'll get rid of it all in the city. Then I'm done, I swear." He reaches out and touches my chin, turning me to him. "Look, things with us are obviously at a really weird place right now. I don't know what is going on, but we need to figure it out."

I pull away from him. I scowl and let my words flow, dripping with the harshness of reality and hurt that I feel. "I'll tell you what is going on. I love you. There, I said it. I put it out there. But wait, I should change that. I loved you. I don't love the person sitting across from me who have been lying to me for months."

"So that's it? You are going to stop this before it starts?"

"No, Roger, you stopped it."

"I'm sorry. How many times do I have to say that?"

"I don't know. Why don't you prove it to me instead of just saying it?"
"Fine." He gets out the car and goes into the gas station. I watch him walk out almost instantly and walk around the side of the building, duffel bag in hand and disappear behind a door. I sit there for an eternity. Should I leave? Should I give into my hope that he is actually getting rid of it? Am I right to ask him to, even though he could get hurt for doing this? Is he risking his life for me?

Is he risking his life for me?

That question lingers in my head as he comes back to the car and gets in. He holds open the now empty bag.

"Hope you are happy, because a lot of money was just flushed down the toilet." He throws the bag back, with a half grin on his face.

"Why?" I turn to him. "Why did you do that?"

"Isn't that what you wanted me to do?" He looks around confused.

"Yeah, but why did you?"

"Because I couldn't stand to see that look on your face anymore."

I lean closer to him, "Is that all?"

"No," he reaches up to my face again, "Because I love you too." I nod, slightly. "You didn't mean it when you said you don't anymore, right?" I nod again. He drops his hand and nods, "Good."

"So now what?"

"Well, I can't go back to the city, that is for sure. Not for a while, anyway."

"That's not what I meant." I look at him, "Now what for us?"

"I don't know. How do we change this friendship into something more?"

"Is that what you want?" I take a deep breath and look at him.

"Yeah, it is."

I smile, "So maybe we should start like this," I lean over and I kiss him. The butterflies return. This kiss lasts longer than any of the others. I don't want to let him go. He has a grip around my hair, holding my head against his, so even if I want to pull away I can't. His lips pull away from mine, but only by a few millimeters.

"I think this is a good way to start." He barely whispers between breaths, I nod and lean forward again. He moves his lips from mine and traces them over my face and my neck. The sensation sets a fire inside of me and I have to pull away. "What… what's wrong?"

"Not here, Roger." I look around the parking lot. No one has even seemed to notice us, but I feel like we are on a main stage.

"Fuck 'em." He leans in again. I try to push him away, but he is stronger than me and I finally give in.

After what seems like an eternity, we finally break apart. We are both red, and both breathing hard. "Uh, maybe we should go home."

"What home?" He laughs.

"Oh, right." I laugh, "my mom's?"

"Sure, but we are going to have to figure out something better than that after tonight?"

"Oh yeah? Why is that?" I taunt him as I start the engine in the car.

"Well, unless you want me to tell your mother that I'm in love with you, I think I'm going to have a hard time keeping it in?"

I laugh. "Shit, it may be worth it to see the look on her face."

"Fine, I will then."
"Roger, no way."

"No, I'm going to. Mark, I want to scream it. I have never felt like this before. I loved April and Mimi, but it is different with you. I have never felt this secure in someone, or myself."

"Roger, what is with you? I have never seen you like this."
"That's what I mean. I was so afraid to love Mimi, but now I don't want to waste a moment hiding from you, or the world."

"Do you mean that?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Alrighty then, let's go tell my mom." I smirk as I get back on the highway and try and figure out which way to Scarsdale.

A/N – Ugh, I hate writing smush. But I think it was necessary. Hehe… will this story ever end? The world may never know. Keep reviewing!