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With a grunt Ollie moves in front of him, glaring he raises his fisted hand and lands a few hard hooks to the guy's solar plexus. I hear a pop, and then a shower of white powder hits me. All of us.

I start coughing as I inhale the substance, while parka guy falls on his knees and then face on the ground, forcing me and Michael to take a couple of steps back.

“What the fuck is this shit?” Lori is blowing out air while shaking his head to make the powder fall down from his curls.

“It’s…cocaine,” I tell him. “I could test it back at the lab, but I’m pretty sure.” I’ve helped my brothers get rid of more than one drug dealer. Studying drugs became a side hobby.

“No need. It’s coke.” Ollie's eyes widen. “Dick used to sell it.” His late father.

“Oh fuck!” Michael mutters, spitting on the ground. His jacket has cocaine all over the right shoulder.

Ollie crouches near the guy on the ground and lifts an almost empty plastic bag that was hanging halfway out of the parka’s large, open pocket.

There is residual cocaine inside. Ollie must have broken the bag when he punched the guy, forcing the drug out.

Gravity and the dude’s incredible height did the rest.

He starts slapping parka dude, but he doesn’t wake up. I turn to the other guy on the ground, but he looks out of it, as well.

“What should we do?” Ollie asks, clenching and unclenching his fists.

“Do you feel any discomfort?” Michael asks. “Shortness of breath, chest pain, itchy skin?”

We all shake our heads.

“No allergic reaction, then. That’s good.”

“Is it? We sniffed coke!” Lori barks.

“It was an accident,” I remind him. “And we didn’t inhale a large amount. We can go to the hospital if you want.”

Lori snorts. “And tell them what? That we accidentally inhaled coke while beating a guy?”

“We just have to wait for it to leave our systems,” Michael states. He goes to the windows and slides them open.

“You got some on your nose,” I let him know.

“Hairy Fucking Fairy!” Lori exclaims, standing on top of gel man’s back, who’s still lying on the ground.

“Why are you using our safe-bestie protocol code word?” Ollie snarls at him, receiving a shrug back. He kicks the parka dude twice in the side before looking up and growling. I also look up. The roof is pretty high.

I feel the change overtaking me already. Euphoria along with an elevated heart rate.

“Damn. This is the year of the high for me.” Lori chuckles. A couple of months ago, he was dosed, that’s how he kind of ended up with Gabe.

“Not again,” Ollie grumbles. “No. No. Don’t want to trip again.”

“Oh right, you were drugged too. Wait, no, you drugged yourself.” Michael frowns at him.

“Not on purpose.” Ollie suddenly snorts and slaps Michael’s shoulder, causing another cloud of cocaine to billow around us. I step back to avoid breathing it in.

“Fuck! I’ve seen this movie, and my character ends up dead on the way home.” Michael looks anxious. Exaggeratedly so.

“Don’t go home, then,” Ollie clips.

“Ah, Okay.”

“Stressed spelled backward is desserts,” Lori suddenly states.

And to that I say, “It’s called a semordnilap, a word that becomes a different word when read backward.”

“Yeah? Too many glasses means fat asses,” Ollie adds.

I giggle. “We are losing our brain-to-mouth filters.”

“When did Lori ever have one?” Ollie asks, smirking at his bestie’s lifted finger. He lifted the wrong one.

“You mean our brain-to-action filter.” Michael points at Lori still on top of the guy.

“I feel, wow! I feel great.” I don’t really know who says that.

“I’m going to see a man about a dog,” Lori abruptly utters, as he moves away from the sleeping dude.

“Pet shops are closed,” I tell him.

“Gonna go piss, Angel.” With a dog?

“Where?” Michael widens his arms, showing him the smoking area.

“I’ll find a bottle…a place,” he says over his shoulder as he walks back inside the bar.

That reminds me of the glass still in my hand. I’m so thirsty all of a sudden, but the glass is empty. My leg starts vibrating. I look down and frown at it. I pat my coat, and oh, my phone!

“Guys, I George Michaeled the shit out of Lori’s clothes.” Ollie is looking down at the white shorts and light blue puffer jacket he’s wearing.

“You did!” I tell him even though I don’t know who this George Michael is. A fashion designer?

“Sing the Go-Go song!” Michael tells him excitedly.

Just as Ollie starts making weird dancing moves, Lori comes back, stopping him.

He’s munching on something. “I have an idea.”

“I hate when you have ideas, I get nervous.” Ollie sniffs, scratching his nose.

My nostrils are a bit itchy as well.

“Let’s go dancing!” Lori jumps up and down. High energy and excitability, another short-term effect of the drug. “Give me the car keys.”

Ollie hands them to him. “I must be really high to think of getting into a car with you.”

“I’m hungry,” Michael complains.

“Mmm. Here!” Lori tosses him a protein bar before going back to his own. “Let’s have a nibble now and then go.”

They’re both tearing into those bars like they are…candy.

“Since I can’t tear into a certain person…” Lori says.

Did he read my mind? I didn’t know cocaine could be so strong. The high purity of it must be the cause of its intense effectiveness, and the fact that this is my first time and…what was I thinking about?

“Bez is a troglodyte jerk.” I nod at Lori. “But then Gabe is a jerk too.”

“They are jerks. I love them,” I say, my throat is really dry.

“You’re softhearted.” Michael doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

“No! I’m selfish and wicked.”

“Please. You are like a dew fairy, living on pure sunshine and rainbows,” Lori snaps back.

“My thoughts are not pure.” I huff.

“Enough of your humble bragging,” Ollie suddenly exclaims.

Lori wraps an arm around Ollie’s shoulders. “Oh! I bet you’re thinking about a certain brother.”

“Foster brother,” Michael corrects him.

“I mean now there’s two of him! Two Uris! Two possessive beasts to tame.”

“No. There’s one Uri and one Ezra, who could turn out to be very dangerous,” Ollie interjects.

“Who isn’t in this family?” Michael reminds us with a snort. “Thinking of dangerous hunks, I want Raph,” he whines.

Lori keeps going, ignoring everyone. “You could have double fun!”

I swallow. “Fun?”

“The sexual kind,” he whispers darkly.

I pull on my braid. “I’m not a sexy femme fatale, how can I make Uri look at me?”

“Angel, Uri is a simple creature with very simple needs. Torturing, eating, torturing, fucking, torturing and repeat…”

“What’s your point?” I ask a little irritated. My nose keeps itching.

“I’ve learned two things are important in life. One, the passage of time is a cruel mistress, give it the finger by moisturizing every day. Two, when you want something, go for it. Idle hands do the Devil’s work. Use those fingers of yours, Angel. Use the crap out of them!”

“You could play him like a banjo,” Ollie interjects.

I feel a wave of confidence enveloping me. “Yes. I can play him!” Why have I been hesitating? I can’t even remember. All excuses. I could have him easily. “No idle hands. Banjo playing!”

“Exactly! Just close your eyes and think how great it would be to kiss Uri…and Ezra.” Lori gestures toward my eyes. But I don’t close them yet.

“I don’t want Ezra.” I’ve never even met him, and I kind of…don’t want to. Maybe. I don’t know.

“Okay, so just Uri then.” Lori sounds disappointed by my monogamous desires.

I take a big breath and let my eyelids fall down. The memory of his wet lips on mine is still so vivid. What would have happened if I’d moved my tongue? I need to drink from his lips again. I want to suck his tongue clean off.

“My heart rabbited in my chest!” Lori’s loud voice jolts me back to reality. He has his eyes closed and a big smile on his face. “Hooo Angel, I thought Uri would be the devouring one, but you’re like a horny monkey!”

Am I?

“Kissing requires thirty-four facial muscles and one-hundred-twelve postural muscles,” is my dull reply.

“Bugger, that’s a lot of moving,” Lori remarks.

Michael’s hand falls on my shoulder. “Just ride him out like an earthquake, he’ll love it.”

The image of me on top of Uri makes me blush. I feel a tingling sensation in my stomach, and my butthole can’t stop clenching. Does cocaine also stimulate sexual desire?

“Is it hot? I feel hot,” Lori asks, taking off his jacket. I look at the snow on the roofs of the cars on the street. Increased body temperature is another effect caused by the drug.

I slide the coat off my shoulders and slowly hang it on my arm. I pat it like I would a cat. It feels so soft. Wasn’t I holding a glass?

“Where the fuck is he?” Rague’s deep growl booms suddenly through the air just before he appears, followed by Gabe.

“Oh joy, they are here.” For once I get Lori’s sarcasm.

“You called them! Or did I?” Michael seems confused.

“Now that I think about it…maybe I did.” I can’t remember. My brain feels floaty and bright.

“I didn’t. I think,” Ollie whispers.

“Our only option here is to fake a stroke…or have a real one,” Lori suggests, forcing us into a circle.

“You start. Lie down and try not to die.” Michael points at the ground.

“I don’t want to lie next to those two!” Lori gestures to the two unconscious men.

“We can hear you. Your whispering is very loud,” Gabe lets us know.

“What the fuck happened here?” Rague stops near Ollie and grabs his face. “Why are your pupils blown, kitty?”

“All their pupils are.”

“We might have inhaled some cocaine,” I say.

“Ahhh, stop with the Paddington hard stare,” Lori grumbles at Gabe. “This wasn’t me. Ollie did it!” He throws his bestie under the bus. That’s rough.

“Hey! I just punched the guy after he landed one on me. I didn’t know he was carrying coke in a crappy plastic bag! You antagonized him in the bar,” Ollie states, pointing a finger at Lori.

“Which one hit you?” Rague snarls angrily. He looks barely in control. Ollie waves in parka dude’s direction.

“Raph and Uri are coming.” Gabe sends me a serious look.