Everything in the city shimmers with heat. I look at the text.

:NO:, was all it said.

"Take a left down 3rd," I yell at the cabbie.

"Yes sir," the Arab cabbie says. He speaks in a foreign tongue on his ear piece.

I text back.

:I'm sorry. Please. Let's talk. 2nite?:

We fly down the street. The back of my arm sticks to the vinyl seat. I smell stale cigarette smoke and beer. I roll the window down and put my head out. The sidewalks are packed with people going up and down the Avenue.

"Where are you going sir?"

I squint through the dirty windshield.

"This is fine." I look down at the phone.

No return text. Damn it. Okay. Get it together.

I hand the guy 10 bucks, tell him to keep the change and walk over to the buzzer off 13th street.

"Yeah..." A voice cracks out the box.

"It's me."

The buzzer sounds. I go up two flights of stairs and come to a red door at the end of the long hallway and knock.

"It's open!"

I walk in the room. Ty's sitting by the window. All of the windows are open but there is no breeze. Ty's in his boxer shorts and wife beater rolling a cigarette. Long red drapes part the sills and movie posters, oversized, take up most of the space on the white walls. The room is a mess of clothes and empty grocery bags.

Ty doesn't look up from his cigarette.

"Fucking things man, I've never been good at this shit," he complains.

"Let me help you." I walk over and he hands me the tobacco.    

"How's things?" I ask.

"Hotter then hellfire."

"You ain't got a fan in here?"

"You wanna buy me one?"

"I thought you were rich."

"Now you're funny." I finish rolling the tobacco and give him the smoke.

"Thanks man."

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" A girl yells. On the other side of the room blonde hair pours out of the covers of a twin size mattress.

Ty licks his cigarette.

"Wake the fuck up bitch. It's already 3 in the afternoon."

The blonde wails under the covers but does not move.

"Fucking girl. You give her money. You give her dick. You give her coke and they still treat you like shit."

"I can still HEAR YOU!"

"Good. I want you too."

Ty pushes his long greasy hair back over his thin skull. His three day beard grows in patches on his cheeks. His eyes are the clearest blue I have ever seen. They are set in his face like two jewels lodged in a bed of mud.

Ty blows out the smoke and lays the eyes on me.

"Look man you gonna want the same?"

"Right but I was thinking..."

"Don't tell me you don't got the money?"

"I do, but I was looking for a front."

"How much?"

"Half. Plus the half I buy now."

"Then you pay the rest when?"

"Monday."

He turns and spits out the window. He waits to see if it hits the crowds down on the sidewalk.

"I can do that."

He huffs and lumbers across the room. He kicks the sheets. The blonde pops up like a jack-in-the-box. Her eyes are furious.

"You fucking jackass! That fucking hurt." She grabs his balls and twists.

"Aww, bitch!"

They fall on the bed and he punches her in the kidney. She struggles but he lays on her with his weight and holds her arms down.

"You gonna be nice?"

"Ty—I swear I will fucking..."

"BE NICE!"

"You got a beer?" I ask.

"In the fridge. Play nice girl."

"Fuck you. Get off me. "

I go into the kitchen. Pots are stacked with greasy water. The counter is full of cigarette butts and pieces of rotted food.

"You got to clean this place up Ty."

"You hear that?" He tells the blonde.

I grab a Pabst and went back in the room. He sits Indian style, sheen with sweat from his scuffle. In his hands is a little bag. He unzips it and brings out a block of white. She stands up from the bed and walks over in an oversized t-shirt and boys boxers, over to the kitchen. Her blonde hair is a big mess.

"Good morning John. You still comin' round here?"

"Stace. Hey. Yes. He's the man."

"He's a cockroach," Stace says and goes to the kitchen. She opens the fridge and takes out a bottle of water. She chugs half of it in the kitchen.

"And beautiful one at that," Ty said as he weighs out the two baggies.

"This looked a lot better at night."

"Everything does," I tell her.

She leans her hips on the counter and finishes the water back.

"Whatchu been doin'?"

"Same," I say.

"You still hangin' with that girl? What's her name?"

"Karlie."

"Yeah, Latin girl."

"Right."

"She's hot."

"She hates me."

"Whatchu do John?"

"Long story."

Ty walks up and throws the two halves on the counter.

"There's your shit."

I give him the money and shake his hand.

"Monday?"

"Monday," he is very serious. I thank him.

"You wanna smoke some weed?"

"Nah, I gotta go."

"Well. Peace." He turns and goes into the bathroom.  

I put the shit in my pocket.

"Helluva Friday tonight?" Stace asks me.

"Not sure."

"Whatcha gonna do?"

"Meet up with some friends."

She puts the water bottle to her lips but does not take her eyes from me. Her eyes move to the closed door of the bathroom.

"You ain't ever gonna say anythin' are you?"

"Now why would I do that?"

She moves closer. The sweat on her skin is sheen. I smell Vodka as she exhales. I kiss her. She slips her tongue into my mouth softly.

The toilet flushes. I step back and smile.

"You be careful out there. Tell your friend I said hi," she said.

"I will."

She waves standing in her boxers. I close the door behind me.

I feel the sweat rolling down my forehead. The stairwell was a steam room. 3rd Ave. was no different.  
 

Union Square is packed with protestors against the war. If the heat isn't enough, all the screams pierced your ears. I duck through the crowds and go over to the subway entrance. They hold signs and shake them at the news cameras. One of the outspoken leaders gets up on a trash can. The police on the side lines move. He tries to fight them off but is taken away screaming as the others wait with their billy-clubs swinging in their hands.

I see Rez make his way through the crowd. He wares the same Yankee hat every time pulled over his thin brown face. A little mustache line slit trails down under his crooked nose and follows up his cheekbones to his sideburns. His eyes are half-closed, his pupil blazed red. He comes up limping.

"You fall down?" I say, clapping his hand.

"Nah man. Fuck what's all this white people shit?"

"Protest."

"Why y'all protestin' all the time? Look at that bitch," He points to a young woman in a tye-dyed shirt banging on the cop car her leader was taken into.

"Crazy bitch be in county tonight, gettin' her box eaten."

"Yeah, so come into my office."

I lead him past the crowds of the protesters towards the tree laden center of the square. Sirens ricochet off the buildings.

"A bit hot out here John. Lotta fuzz."

"No place better than right under their nose."

I pull out one of the halves and slip it his hand. He takes it, looks around and shoves it down his pants. I watch him and raise an eyebrow.

"Rez, you sure you got the money?"

"Fuck John, it's the sweetness. What do you call this green, muthafucker?"

I hold out my hand and Rez puts the money clip in my palm.

"All there?"

"You doubt me? Fuck. The heats cooked your brain man."

"Yeah, it's a bitch."

"Whatchu doin' tonight?"

"Don't know. Sun's almost down. Maybe it'll break the heat."

"You know 'bout Menace on Ludlow?"

"What's that?"

"Hot John, you gotta go. Take care of your shit. Me and the boys be out there tonight. Roll by."

"All right," We clap hands and he's off, sneaking through the crowds. I watch until the blue cap is gone from sight.

I look down at my phone. No text.

I type in.

:Meet me 2nite?:

I wait. The crowds are getting more restless. I light a cigarette and head down town on Broadway to the nearest bar. I find one, a NYU bar, and sit down at the bar.

"Get you something?" The bartender asks.

"Shot. Whiskey."

The bartender puts it down. The music is quiet. I stare down the bar at the crowd. All young. All dressed in polo shirts. The guy's are sport players, the girls; Lindsey Lohan copies. I take a shot and order a Miller.

I feel the phone buzz in my pocket.

:Stop talking to me. I want nothing to do with u:

This is bullshit. I try calling her. No answer, her voicemail. Fuck. I yell at her answering service.

"Hey, what the fuck Karlie? Will you just let me explain? It's not what you think. Look...Come out tonight, Rez told me about this place, Menace, hot, please. Or not, or whatever. We can talk where ever. Just call me back, please."

I pour the beer down my throat. I finish it fast.

"Another?"

I tap the bar.

The bartender puts the new beer down. I watch the bubbles foam to the top of the neck. I watch them dissipate and clear and I take another drink.  
 

I couldn't get it up the first time we hooked up. We crashed into my room and we go at each others clothes like we had claws for hands. We fall on the bed and I can feel her naked thighs wrap around me and I go to put myself in her and feel nothing.

"Fuck," I said heaving.

I sit up but did realize the beds end is so close. I fall back, pants around my ankles, right the floor. She starts laughing.

"Oh my God."

"Fuck man," I keep laughing too, "I'm wasted."

"I am too," She crawls from the bed and falls on top of me.

"Oh, you fucking fattie!" I yell.

"Fattie!" She lands two punches into my gut and I wrestle with her and put her on the carpet.

"I'll spit in your face," her big eyes glare.

"No you won't."

"Oh yeah? Why's that?"

"Cause you like me."

"I don't like whores."

"Ha! I am offended."

"Why? I know you fuck whatever walks with tits and ass."

"Who told you that?"

"Rez."

"That fucking spic, I'll kill him."

I let her up and we go back to the bed. The smoke is thick in the room. I open the window and sit on the bed by the sill. She goes naked over to the edge. The lamp lights outside cast over her body. Her breasts in the window light are cut perfectly from the darkness.

"You're gorgeous."

Her hair spills down her shoulder like a waterfall. She turns, "What's that whore?"

"You heard me. I wish I was a photographer."

"Oh, instead of a drug dealer," she says, and the moment she did she regretted it.

"I'm not a drug dealer," I say quietly.

"Really? That's what you tell yourself? I believe I bought coke from you. Or maybe that was some other girl?"

I go over and touch her shoulders. I cup her thick mane of hair in my hands.  I kiss her throat.

"No. That was you."

We both watch the window. The night is still. I feet her kiss my back.

"I like you John."

I don't know what to say. I just kiss her and we just kiss until we fall asleep.  
 

I kiss the girl.

"Who are you?" She asks. I've just met her.

This girls eyes are like dandelions. On fire and everything. Like a cat. I feel sick.

"Where you going?" She's mad.

I push her off.

"Fuck you," she says.

I go to the bathroom and flick on the light. My reflection is different every time I blink.

I bring out the coke, make on line on the porcelain of the toilet.

I snort the line. It's as long as a finger.

I reel back.

I snort again and the drips fall down my throat. It's half ice and half medicine. I puke into the toilet. I hold the edges. I feel like my face is going to fall in.

I get up and go to the sink. I cup some water and splash it on my face.

"Get it together John. It's okay," I tell myself. I see the weakness. I want to cry.

The door bangs.

"A minute!" I yell.

The club is booming outside the door.

I hope she comes. I hope she does. I go into the crowd. All their sweat is ugly to me.  
 

"I'm going to do it."

"No."

"What then?"

I cannot answer. I don't know either. I know it's the right choice but...I don't know what the right thing is to do.

I order a beer. She's not drinking a thing.

She doesn't look like anything I've ever seen.

"I'll get a job. A real job," I say

"It's not that," Karlie takes a flower out of the vase and holds over her lap. She starts to pick the petals off one by one.

"I know you. I don't care what you say."

She looks at me. I look down.

I know I'm full of shit. I have never known how full of shit I am until right now. The only problem I have is that I have no idea how to deal with it. I think about all of those other girls. They meant nothing. When Karlie and I were naked there was no other. I didn't even think about them. After I finished, I would lie next to her and wish I never did anything I did.

She had plucked all the petals off.

"It's not a big deal. My mother is staying with me. It's fine. I'll take care of it."

No words spoke. The silence was a rock on both of us.

The waiter came over.

"Can I take your order?"

` She looks at me.

"I'm not ready yet."

The waiter nods. I do too.  
 

Menace was packed.

I come out of the bathroom and there's people dancing everywhere. I go over to the bar, order a shot.

It burns on the way down. I feel the weight of the ounce of coke heavy in my pockets. I have got to get rid of this. I go out the door of the club.

People walk down the street. Whole crowds of them. I don't recognize any of them. Their faces make everything really lonely. I don't know any of them.

Then I see her. Karlie walks down the sidewalk, and doesn't recognize me yet. I step out into the rush. She stops. There is a moment where I see her swallow her breath. I am holding mine.

"Hey," I say.

She doesn't say anything for a second.

"Hey."

"Are you okay?"

She holds her purse close.

"Yeah. I guess."

In her eyes are crossbones.

I don't know what to say.

"Good party?" Her eyes are welling up.

"Yeah."

She like a skeleton.

"What do we do?"

A car goes by, honks its horn. I can't take my eyes off of her.

"You came back," I say.

She waits.

"Yeah."

There is noise all around us. I touch her stomach.

She nods.

I close my eyes.    

She does too.