In the Nick of Time
“Nick leaned forward and scratched his head. He was jonesing for a cigarette in the worst fucking way, but his efforts to toss that hankering habit were threatened by increased irritability earlier that morning.
“You are.” Frieda nodded.
“Well, I think this is bullshit.” He ran his hand along his eye as he rocked back and forth, trying to settle himself. “Most of the people in here are sharing parts of themselves, and I,” he paused, “am giving all I’ve got, okay? These are private things about my life. Shit, I obviously didn’t want to talk about it, and still don’t, but I’m doing it because I’ve got too much lose if I don’t.” He shrugged. Truly, he was motivated by sheer desire, the memory of his deceased mother, and his job being on the line. He had to get this shit right, to make his troubles bow down to him, not the other way around. When he’d walked into the place that first damn day, he meant business and no matter how hard it got, he was determined to make it, to get through.
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