by Brea Viragh
“I’m sorry, I get weird when I’m nervous. It’s a medical condition called gastrointestinal verbal distress.”
Shari’s open palm provided a shield while she poured the rest of the liquid black gold into my cup. My one, my only love, my cuppa Joe. “Your secrets are safe with me. I’m simply giving you advice. Which is to take the high road. Word on the street says Isaac will be shacking up with his parents while he tries to get back on his feet.”
I should have been happy he had a place to stay. Instead a wave of guilt crashed down with enough weight to sink to the pit of my stomach and lie there like iron chains. Staying with his parents at twenty-two…of course he would have to, he’d have nowhere else to go. I could only imagine what he would say if I showed up at his door, the harsh words and self-righteous condemnation.
I deserved every one of those harsh words.
In Heartwood, police and other law enforcement officials were determined to crack down on methamphetamine distribution. It was a growing problem for the community, impacting adults and teenagers alike. A drug of choice.
Nothing had changed since my senior year of high school, with use and distribution only worsening within the county lines. Without hard evidence, the police relied on intel and word of mouth, both abundant in these parts.
I remembered that long-ago night, the four of us teenagers holed up in a cabin at the end of a dead-end road. Three guys who caught the attention of every girl in the graduating class. And little ol’ me, strangely out of place, an insignificant speck in comparison to their charm and magnetism. I’d wormed my way into their good graces and received the invitation in a whisper. How crazy it would have been to deny the cool kids anything. Besides, Isaac said he would be there. I wanted to think he was doing it for me, had agreed to join in when he’d heard Trent and Brad had extended the invitation in my direction.
The boys had hollered and whooped, enjoying the unrestrained abandon of their freedom. The sort of elusive feeling only prevalent in your teen years where you felt you were invincible. Amidst the laughter was the keening wind through the mountainside and the rattle of nearly leafless trees. Winter approached.
No one suspected the interruption until police stormed the scene. The click and slap of handcuffs, each of the three men dragged from the premises and me running out the back door into the dark woods. Soon there was nothing but silence.
How did I know Isaac would hate me? Anyone would after being in jail for three years.
And I was the one who’d put him there.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
To the readers. All those wonderful, amazing people out there who find solace, comfort, love, and companionship between the pages of a book.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Brea Viragh is a writer based in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia with degrees from Berea College and Nova Southeastern University. When she isn’t writing, her hobbies include binge-watching HGTV, scouring thrift shops for goodies, and maintaining her alpha status among her boyfriend, puppy, and three cats. A recipient of a 5-Star Writer Award from NY Literary, her work includes the Promise Me series, available online, as well as short stories published in New Realm, eFiction, and Conceit magazines.
