Drew was older than Dylan by three years. He was always into drugs as long as I could remember but when he nearly overdosed at sixteen, Ken didn’t take well to that, I assumed. I didn’t know the entire story and Dylan never felt the need to go into details. All my theories were speculation. I never knew the truth and I wasn’t sure I ever would outside from what I learned from his uncles and the brief interactions Dylan and I had about him. That weekend we arrived in Birmingham Drew was out of town. We he got back into town Friday night, I was afraid to go to the bar with him after what happened on Tuesday night at his friend’s house. Since then things had went back to normal but we had yet to take things further sexually or talk more about what happened. Dylan seemed nervous that afternoon and said little until we were in the parking lot. Even then, he said nothing to me but reached for my hand and held it as we stepped into the downtown Birmingham bar his brother now owned. A sign on the outside said The Joint.
