Sex by Francine Pascal

another wine cooler into the bushes.
    Gaia was admittedly a little thrown. If Gen did live in the park, then she didn’t fit the description of a homeless person that Gaia was accustomed to. She was far too pretty and far too young to not have
someplace
to go.
    â€œSo…,” Gen began, looking Gaia in the eye for pretty much the first time, “are we asking questions now?”
    â€œWhatever,” Gaia replied with a shrug.
    Gen let out a loud and massive belch.
    â€œWas that your question?”
    â€œNo.” Gen laughed Ugh, that was spooky. She even had Mary’s laugh. “My question,” she went on, “as long as we’re asking questions… How long have you been using?”
    â€œUsing what?” Gaia asked.
    â€œYeah, right” Gen laughed. “That’s my line, too. ‘Using what, Officer?’”
    Gaia was still drawing a blank.
    â€œDrugs”
Gen laughed again. “How long have you been using drugs? And don’t even bother trying to tell me you’re not a junkie.”
    Gaia didn’t even know how to respond to such a ridiculous accusation.
    â€œOh,
come on”
Gen jabbed. “You’re gonna try to tell me that’s not why you came up here tonight? To buy from Casper?”
    â€œCasper?
Who the hell is
Casper?”
    â€œCasper,” Gen said, as if it were obvious. “Casper, the dude you flipped on his ass, Casper?”
    â€œYou
know
him?” Gaia squawked.
    â€œYeah, I know him,” she replied with a look of disdain. “I know that asshole. He thinks he’s such hot shit with his leather jacket and his Sugar Ray *NSync ass. That was just beautiful when you kung fu’d him and his meatheads. Beautiful. You know, he’s not so tough when you take away that knife and his thugs. Then he’s just another punk dealer, you know? But he so deserved what you gave him. He so deserved it.”
    Gaia had never in her life thought of herself as unintelligent, but as she put all the pieces together, she couldn’t believe how blind she’d been to the abundantly obvious. She hadn’t saved Gen from getting raped in Central Park. She’d just saved herfrom her pissed-off
dealer.
Ugh. Her dealer. Now she was too
much
like Mary.
    Gaia took a much closer look at Gen and realized how completely strung out she was. How could she have missed it? This girl was, without question, a full-blown junkie. She was thin as a rail, pale and gaunt, with dark circles under her eyes, chain smoking, and digging around Central Park for leftover junk food. So how could a homeless junkie living in Central Park afford to pay for that pager? Who knew? Maybe
Casper
paid for it. Keep those customers coming back. That was probably why he’d gone off on her. Probably just pissed about some money she owed him or something.
Jesus.
Casper was just Mary’s dealer Skizz come back to life. All dealers were Skizz. Greedy, pathetic assholes with nothing better to do than prey on helpless addicts.
    The Mary connection suddenly made Gaia far more ill than it had at first. She couldn’t help thinking… what if Mary hadn’t had money? What if she’d had the same drug problem minus the incredible supportive family and the beautiful apartment on Central Park West? She’d probably be living the exact same life as Gen. And she probably would have died even sooner.
    â€œSo, come on,” Gen said. “How long have you been hooked?”
    â€œNo, no” Gaia began, shaking her head.
    â€œIt’s okay.” Gen laughed. “I’m not a narc. Don’t even try to lie.”
    â€œNo, listen—”
    â€œYou’re coming up here behind the Met all alone in the middle of the night. You were here to buy….”
    â€œNo—”
    â€œYou’re nodding out on me for twenty minutes. You’re all pale and nauseous and shit. You’re a freakin’