Reasons for Recovery

by Blair Burden

  ***

  I was painting my toes a hot pink, listening to my MP3 as loud as it could go—blasting classic Guns N' Roses in my ears. Just as I was on the last toe, Raymond ran into the pool house, causing me to spill nail polish on my bed sheet.

  “We need to talk!” Raymond sobbed. “This is urgent!”

  I rolled my eyes. “Next time knock, please,” I snapped as I cleaned the mess.

  “About this morning…”

  “It’s no biggie!” I lied.

  “I kissed you…and that was wrong.”

  “It was just in the moment,” I said. “I’m not mad at you.”

  Raymond sat on the couch and I could feel his eyes following me. He coughed several times and since I was a self-proclaimed body language expert, I knew he was thinking of something to say.

  He dusted off his pajamas as he looked around the pool house. “Where is Karen?” he broke the odd silence.

  “She is at some pizza place with her dance team,” I said.

  “Why didn’t you go?”

  “Ugh,” I laughed. “No offense, but I can barely stand Karen.”

  “No offense taken.”

  I walked to the window and saw Betsy jump into the pool. My first thought was whoa she is crazy, it’s chilly out there. Then my second thought was I thought she was with Karen and the dance team.

  “I guess they’re back,” I said.

  Raymond stood up and walked over to the fireplace. He lifted the last photo of Mandy and me and his eyes narrowed. “I thought you hate her.”

  “I do, but I also love her. She was my best friend.”

  “You sure are confusing. I wouldn’t have a picture of an enemy on my mantel. Especially, since you hear her voice—”

  “I do not want to talk about that.”

  “Everyone knows.”

  “Well, I don’t want to think about it.”

  “I used to hear voices—evil ones.”

  “Enough,” I whined. “I don’t want to think about Mandy!” Why not, because I’m perfect and you’re not? “Thanks a lot Raymond, she’s back.”

  Raymond opened the glass door of the pool house. “Hey, Betsy, where is Karen at? I have dinner on the stove.”

  “Um, I don’t know,” she yelled from the pool.

  “Didn’t you take the girls to school?” Raymond asked me. “And didn’t you pick them up?”

  “Nope, I walked to school,” I said.

  “Why would you walk when you have a car?”

  “I like the peacefulness of walking.”

  “Um, so where is Karen?” Raymond asked Betsy

  “I said I don’t know!” she snapped and dived back into the pool.

  It was the first time Raymond came off as a “dad.” It shocked me how worried he seemed. I looked at his forehead and wrinkles began to appear that were never there before.

  “Maybe she is with Marla?” I said.

  “Nope, Marla is with you know who.”

  “Maybe she is with her dance team still? Did you call her?”

  “I’ve texted her several times. Maybe, I should go searching for her. This isn’t like her to not tell me where she is going,” he said.

  “I can help you look for her.”

  “No, you stay here with Betsy. Karen might come back home while I’m out.” Raymond ran out the pool house and he disappeared within the nasty fog that was taking over the backyard.

  I walked outside to Betsy and she stared up at me. “What is wrong?” she asked. “Is Karen okay?”

  “Do you know where Karen is?” I said.

  “No…she should be home. Let me get out the pool and call her.”

  While in the house, Betsy sent Karen a tenth text after thirty minutes of no luck. Raymond was still gone and he had not called back yet. Therefore, as a mature teen, I kept my eye on Betsy. And by keeping my eye on her, I mean I gossiped with her in the kitchen.

  “I worried about her,” I said. “I have a bad feeling.”

  “You worry too much, Karen is probably at Best Buy trying to get a new CD,” Betsy said.

  “No, she always returned my calls and texts with quickness. This is the longest I’ve not heard from her.”

  “We should think about something else…like Jordan. Everyone knows about you and him.”

  “What do you mean?” I laughed. “We have nothing going on.”

  “I think Jordan loves you!”

  “He doesn’t even know me, so how can he love me?” I said.

  “Well, then he likes you.”

  “Who would like me?”

  “I like you…in a non-lesbian way,” she chuckled and bit into a taco. “Well, it doesn’t matter.”

  I grew quit as Betsy chewed loudly in my ear. “Can I ask you something?” I broke the ten-minute silence.

  “Yeah, what?”

  “Do you like your life?”

  Betsy got quiet and all I could hear was her chewing again. She tore up her face as if it tasted nasty. “I don’t know. Why would you ask me that?”

  “I just wonder. Your life seems more messed up than mine.”

  “I have my days. I know how you feel, Cassie.”

  My eyes grew large. “Why don’t we ever talk about this? I mean, you seem so shallow when I hear you and Karen’s conversations. I really don’t like you.”

  “Nah, Karen wouldn’t understand what it’s like to have our life.”

  “She really wouldn’t.”

  “Now, can I ask you a question?” she said.

  “Yeah, what?” I said.

  “What is the hardest thing you have overcome?”

  “Um, well if I tell you, you cannot gossip it to anyone,” I said as I played with my bracelet. “You see this.” I held my bruised wrist to her. Wrapped around it was a cheetah print thread with three knots on them.

  “Yeah, why do they have knots on them?” she asked.

  “All these knots represent a struggle I overcame. I would tie a knot on my bracelet.”

  “Why is this knot bigger than the rest?” she asked as she touched the bracelet. “What do they represent?”

  “This was my first knot—”

  “Let me guess, it represents suicide?”

  “Nope…actually none of them do,” I sighed.

  “Why not?”

  “Because it’s still a challenge for me.”

  “So, what do they mean?” she asked as she sat closer to me.

  “This first one represents my dad’s passing. The second one is from killing my dog—”

  “You killed your dog?”

  “Well, I accidentally sat on my puppy.”

  “Ouch, what a sad way to die!”

  “Yeah…and my third one is the biggest one…”

  “What is it?”

  “Betsy, you cannot tell anyone…not even Karen!”

  “Okay, I won’t…tell me!”

  I sighed already regretting what was about to come out my mouth. “This knot represents my mom.”

  “That’s not so bad—”

  “She has HIV.”

  “What?” she gasped. “Your mom has HIV?”

  “Yup, end of story…I don’t want to talk about it!”

  “Okay then, we won’t,” she whispered. “But, do you have—”

  “No!”

  “So, why don’t any of the knots represent Mandy?”

  I stared at my bracelet, “Hmm, I don’t know.”

  “But you—”

  My phone rang, cutting Betsy off—perfect timing since she wanted to continue the conversation.

  “Hello—”

  “Hurry to the emergency room!” Raymond shouted as if I could not already hear him.

  “What happened?” I said.

  “Karen has been in a car accident!” and he hung up before I could reply.

  I covered my mouth in fright. “Oh my god,” I said and grabbed my handbag.

  “What?” Betsy said.

  “Karen has been in a car accident! We
have to head to the emergency room.”

  “Okay, let me get my jacket!”

  On our way there, I couldn’t stop thinking about Karen. I could barely drive normally, with just the thought of her being in danger. My biggest fear was that Karen was hurt—and the last thing I said to her was “whatever.”

  As soon as we arrived to the hospital that I had been to too many times, Raymond came sobbing in my arms. I did not want to ask him about what happened, but I wanted to know. This is your entire fault—

  “Why is this my fault?” I snapped.

  “What do you mean?” Raymond cried and stared at me in confusion. “I didn’t say anything.”

  “I know you didn’t say anything—Mandy said—never mind.”

  “Oh Cassie!” Raymond cried in my arms. “I knew something was wrong.”

  “What happened to my best friend?” Betsy said. “Will she be okay?”

  “Yeah, was it a major car accident? You’re probably over reacting,” I said.

  “She had been hit about an hour ago by a huge pick-up truck. And to think, Marla knew this whole time and she didn’t even call me!”

  “Maybe because she was too busy with you know who,” I muttered under my breath and looked over to Betsy whose eyes narrowed at me and Raymond. Before her mind went haywire, I pushed Raymond away from me.

  “Will she be okay?” Betsy said.

  “I have no idea—”

  “She lied to me!” I said. “She told me that she was gonna eat with the dance team. She even invited me to go with her.”

  “She probably knew you would say no,” Betsy said.

  “But, she said you were going too.”

  “No way! The dance team did not have any plans. I would know…unless they didn’t invite me.”

  “I’m pretty sure she lied,” Raymond said.

  “Well, she told me that today,” I said.

  “Well, I had told her I had plans with my other friend Rachel and said I wouldn’t be home until late. But, I didn’t end up going.” Betsy said.

  “That’s odd; why would she lie?” I said.

  “I don’t know!” he sobbed. “All girls lie, I guess.”

  “That is not true!”

  “Does it really matter now? She is not okay; she is in a coma,” Raymond said.

  “Really?” we both said.

  I felt horrible. I finally learned what it was like to have a guilty conscious. Well, I had one prior to that, but it didn’t faze me like this. I should have just said “Yes, I’ll go eat with the dance team!” She would not have been in that situation—only if I did not take her for granted—like I did for everyone else.

  “Wait, Karen can’t drive,” Betsy said. “Who was she with?”

  “Marla said a boy—”

  “I’ll kick his ass—”

  “He died,” Raymond cut me off.

  “Wow, are you serious?”

  “Karen is lucky to be alive.”

  Then, I thought about my previous conversation with Karen about bad boys—I should have known.