Rock Bottom

by Canosa, Jamie

  “It was great.”

  “Glad to hear it. What are you up to now?”

  “Just studying. There’s another chemistry exam coming up.” And I was having full blown terror fits over it. Or, at least, I was before the weed helped ease them away.

  “Then I suggest you keep at it. You have a lot of making up to do in that class. You know what your father will say if—”

  “I know!” I snapped louder than I meant to, but she was bringing them back. The voices. My father’s voice. The hurtful, disapproving words. The sense that I’d never be good enough, never live up, no matter what. I’d just finished chasing all of that away and she was bringing it right back. “I’m going to go study.”

  Leaving my mother looking a bit shell-shocked in the kitchen, I retreated upstairs, sparing little more than a glance at the Chemistry text still lying unopened on my desk before pulling out the pack of rolling papers Elijah had gotten for me. Just one more. Just to chase it all away again. Otherwise, what was the point?

  ***

  When I woke, the room was dark and a plate of food sat on my desk. Crap, what time was it? The last thing I remembered was smoking that second joint and . . . Shit, where was it?

  In a paranoid fueled frantic search of the room my mother had obviously been in, I discovered that I must have at least had enough forethought to stash my shit before passing out. A quick sniff test even assured me that I’d remembered to spray the air freshener again, too. Flopping on the bed, I released a sigh. Going from asleep to full-blown panic in two-point-seven-seconds flat was exhausting.

  The clock read eleven-thirteen and I groaned at the realization that I was now wide awake and probably would be for a while after my impromptu nap. Elijah said I could call if I was having trouble sleeping, but I didn’t want to risk waking my parents, so I shot off a text, instead.

  What are you doing?

  A minute later, his response chimed. I was sleeping. What’s wrong?

  Nothing. Sorry. Go back to sleep.

  It’s okay. You wanna talk?

  No. Everything’s fine, really. Just bored. You sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.

  You sure?

  Sure

  Okay. Sweet dreams. I love you.

  If I could have melted my entire body into the phone and come out the other side to give him a big, fat kiss, I would have.

  I love you, too. Goodnight.

  I sat there, staring at the visual proof of his love for me longer than was probably mentally sound. He loved me. I could still hear him saying the words. They warred with the other words trapped in my brain and, for a moment, they overshadowed them. Pushed everything else aside, and filled me up with their meaning. But the other words wouldn’t stay buried for long. Not without some help.

  My parents were sound asleep and there really was nothing else to do. Besides, it would help me sleep. With those rationalizations rolling around my head, I pulled out the stash tucked under my mattress and the rolling papers in my nightstand drawer.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  “Want to study, tonight?” Elijah opened his front door and took a peek inside before ushering me in. Andy must have been in his bedroom because he wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

  “Study? Is that code for something?”

  “No, smart ass.” Elijah shut his bedroom door and to my utter shock pulled out his chemistry textbook. I wasn’t even sure he actually owned any textbooks. “Study means study. We have that big chemistry exam tomorrow.”

  “And you have a photographic memory. You don’t need to study.”

  “It never hurts to take another look, and you do need to study.”

  “We can’t all be born lucky.” I regretted the words the instant they left my mouth. “I didn’t mean—”

  “I know what you meant. And, no, not everyone can be blessed with these stunning good looks and brilliant mind. That’s why you should study.”

  “And the looks?”

  “Oh, those you’ve got.”

  “So it’s just my mind that needs help, then?”

  “Precisely.” He opened the book and dropped it on the bed between us.

  It didn’t take long for my focus to drift. His camera was still sitting on the nightstand.

  “You know, you still haven’t taken my picture. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever even seen you use that thing.”

  “I haven’t in a while.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t really felt inspired to.”

  “Could I inspire you?”

  “Are you going to pose nude?”

  “Elijah!”

  He laughed and rolled up onto his elbow. “I think I could get inspired. But then . . . we study. Deal?”

  “Deal.” I’d been wanting him to take that damn picture since forever.

  Elijah turned on the camera and checked the display as I climbed off the bed.

  “Digital?”

  “I prefer old fashioned film, but it gets too expensive.”

  “Where do you want me?”

  Elijah scanned the room with a frown. “Let’s go outside.”

  A warm breeze gently tossed the leaves on the trees allowing for random patches of sunlight to slip through. Why anyone would want to live where it was cold and snowy half the year was beyond me. Summers could get brutal, but winters here were perfect.

  “Where to, Mr. Arteest?”

  “That’s possibly the worst French accent I have ever heard. How about over by that tree?”

  “Good thing I took Español, then.” I positioned myself at the base of a tall oak tree and threw my hands up in my very best dramatic pose. “Like this?”

  “Just like that. Don’t move.”

  He started clicking away and checking the images in his viewfinder. I held the ridiculous pose for as long as I could before collapsing in a fit of giggles. That didn’t stop Elijah. He kept snapping away through all of my ludicrous glory.

  “Stop! Stop, stop stop.” Tears streamed from my eyes I was laughing so hard as I chased Elijah around the yard, trying to remove the camera from his possession.

  There must have been a hundred pictures of my hands taken as I pried it from his. When I finally got it away from him, I paid him back, shooting shot after shot of his beautiful face. By the time the Great Camera War had ended, the sun was beginning to set. I called my mom to tell her I was staying late to finish a few more sets on the leg press, and followed Elijah back inside.

  We collapsed on the bed, still panting with exertion, and Elijah started flipping through the pictures. He was amazing. Even with an entirely uncooperative subject, he still managed to capture some incredible shots. He made me look . . . beautiful.

  “This one’s my favorite.” He leaned back to give me a better view.

  My head was thrown back, hair blowing across my face, mouth open in a wide smile as I laughed out loud. I looked so happy. He made me look that way. This boy beside me. This boy that I loved. This boy that loved me.

  I took the camera from him and scrolled through image after image of hands, close-up unrecognizable body parts, grass, and sky until I came to the ones I took of him. And there it was . . . that rare genuine smile. I managed to capture the elusive beast, dimples and all.

  “I want this one. Would you make a copy for me?”

  “I don’t know. My nose looks a little big and—”

  “Shut up!”

  Elijah laughed, rolling on top of me and moving the camera carefully to the nightstand. “I’ll get copies made tomorrow.”

  “What? You don’t do it yourself, Mr. Photographer? No dark room under the bed?”

  “Ha! I wish. All you need is a printer for digital, but I’d give anything for my own dark room. To develop my own film . . . my own images . . .” The longing in his eyes took my breath away.

  “You really do have a passion for this, don’t you?”

  The longing erupted into fiery need as he focused back on me. “I’ll show yo
u what I have a passion for.”

  And a passion he did have. By the time I had to get ready to go, the closest we’d come to studying chemistry was making out on top of the book. Learning by osmosis? Why not? It was worth a shot.

  “You’re going to study tonight, right?”

  “What’s the point, Elijah? You know as well as I do that Mr. Parson hates me. He’s going to give me whatever grade he wants, no matter how I do.”

  “That’s not true. I took care of that. You will get the grade you earn, I promise you. So go home and prepare to earn a good one.”

  I shook my head at his persistence, but agreed to at least try.

  It didn’t quite work out that way, though. Alone in my room—just me and my chemistry book—I couldn’t bring myself to do it. To allow myself to work for it and care about it just to be let down again. It was easier not to care. And that was something I knew how to do. Elijah and I hadn’t smoked at all that afternoon, so I classified it as my daily escape, even if Elijah had found another way to give me one of those.

  ***

  Staring at the sheet of paper in front of me, I sort of wished I’d at least scanned the textbook. Then, maybe I might have had some clue as to what the hell I was looking at. Formulas I’d normally have known by heart barely looked recognizable and I essentially spent forty minutes playing eeni-meeny-miny-moe with the multiple choice questions. Thank God it wasn’t short answer. I would have handed in a blank paper.

  “How’d you do?” Elijah—as usual—had finished in less than half that time and sat around twiddling his thumbs the rest of the period. As much as I loved him, sometimes I hated him just a little, too.

  Terrible. “Fine.”

  “Just fine?”

  “Now you sound like my mother.”

  “Stop deflecting. Did you study?”

  “Yes . . . A little . . . Maybe.”

  “Rylie!”

  “What? It’s Mr. Parson. It wouldn’t have mattered.”

  “I told you I took care of that. I promised you.”

  “I know, but—”

  “But what? You don’t trust me?”

  “That’s not it.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  Elijah growled in frustration. “It. Matters. To. Me.”

  “I didn’t want to be disappointed again! Okay? Is that what you want to hear? I didn’t want to work my ass off just to be let down all over again.”

  “And it’s easier not to try at all?”

  “It’s easier not to care.”

  He ran a hand over his face. “Rylie, you can’t just stop caring about things.”

  “You told me to do what makes me happy.”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t tell you to just give up on everything else.”

  I stood before him like a chastised child, my heart weighing heavily in my chest. “I didn’t mean to. I just . . . I didn’t want to hurt anymore.”

  “Princess,” Elijah’s fingers wove through my hair as he tipped my head back to meet his gaze, “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

  It was a sweet sentiment that brought tears to my eyes, but what could he do if the hurt was already inside me? There was only one way I knew to silence that hurt, and it had run out.

  “I need more, Elijah. Weed,” I clarified when my plea was met with a confused expression.

  An expression that quickly changed to surprise. And then worry. “You smoked all of that already? By yourself?”

  “That’s why I need more.”

  “Christ, Ry. That should have lasted you . . . Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”

  “What?”

  “Getting more.”

  “I have the money.”

  “Money’s not the issue. Maybe you should . . . slow down. Cut back a little.”

  No! No, no, no. It was the only thing keeping me sane. I couldn’t cut back now. It was already getting harder to fight off the feelings. If I cut back, I'd surely drown. Elijah must have seen the panic written all over my face, because he took me by the shoulders and steered me into a tiny alcove.

  “Princess, you don’t need the drugs. We can cut back together. Find other things to do. We can . . .” He lost me after that.

  He wanted to cut back, too? If I couldn’t even smoke with him—

  “No. You’re right. I’ll go back to just smoking with you like we used to. How’s that?”

  Elijah eyed me carefully, not quite ready to believe me. But when he remembered I was out, making him my only source, he gave in. He thought he was my only source because he thought I’d never go to Rafe alone.

  He thought wrong.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  After school, I told Elijah that my mother was coming home early from work and I needed to be there when she did. He never questioned me. Just watched me get in my car and drive away. Straight to Rafe’s front door.

  “Riley? Fancy meeting you here.” He glanced past me. “You come to the den of the Big Bad Wolf all by yourself?”

  “I needed to get some more stuff from you. Whatever Elijah bought me last time is fine. I brought money—”

  “Let’s go inside to discuss this, okay?”

  I’d never been inside Rafe’s during daylight hours. It still held the dark, dank feel of a tomb even with light filtering in past the bed sheets hung like curtains in the windows. He sat me on the couch in the same room we always partied in and disappeared for a minute. When he came back he held another bag identical to the one I’d just emptied and my heart beat a little faster.

  “You wanted another quarter?”

  “Yeah. I brought money. How much—”

  “Take it.”

  I hesitated to accept his gratuity. “Really?”

  “Sure. Call it my ‘Welcome to the Club’ present. Just remember me for all you future needs.”

  I didn’t want to feel like I owed Rafe anything, but at the same time I couldn't think of a way to insist on paying without coming across as rude. And the last thing I needed was to piss off my very last source. It’s not like I was going to anyone else in the future, anyway.

  “Great. Thank you.”

  “No problem, sweetheart. You wanna stick around and smoke a bowl with me?”

  How was I supposed to say no to that right after he’d just hooked me up free of charge? “Uh . . . sure. But I can’t stay long.”

  “No worries. It won’t take long.”

  I sat back while Rafe packed the bowl. The text alert went off on my phone and I pulled it out of my pocket to find Elijah’s name scrolled across the screen.

  Miss you already. Mom home yet?

  Any minute now. Miss you, too.

  Lying to him twisted something deep inside my chest. The guilt was crushing and I wished Rafe would move a little faster with that bowl.

  Want to go swimming this weekend? I know it’s getting a little cold but we could go down by the lake and just hang out. Pack lunch. Listen to music.

  Sounds perfect!

  Great. I’ll see you at school tomorrow. Good luck tonight. Sweet dreams. I love you.

  Love you too. Goodnight.

  “That Eli?” Rafe passed me the bowl and lighter as I tucked the phone back into my pocket.

  “Yeah.”

  “He know you’re here?”

  “No.” Admitting the truth to Rafe, while lying to Elijah felt . . . dirty. But I couldn’t have him go and spill the beans.

  “Didn’t think so.” He laughed, but it wasn’t the same joyous sound as when Elijah did it. Rafe’s laugh was menacing, like some kind of cartoon villain. It freaked me out.

  As promised, we finished off the bowl quickly, and I’d never been so happy to see sunshine as when I stepped back out on the porch.

  “Come back any time, sweetness. I’m always down for a good time.”

  I didn’t particularly like the sound of that, but I did my best to agree with a smile. When I got back home, however, and I had all afternoon to kill�
�just me and my new supply—it was all worth it. Though I was already buzzing from the bowl at Rafe’s, I rolled a joint, chocking it up as a freebie.

  ***

  “I don’t really feel well.”

  “Do you have a temperature?” Mom reached for my forehead and I stepped back, not wanting to let her get too close. I needed a shower. And some perfume.

  “No, but—”

  “Then get your butt in gear. You’re going to school.”

  “Moooom . . .” I whined

  “What is the matter with you this morning, Rylie Star? You’re not even dressed yet. Go get ready. And hurry up.”

  What was the matter with me? Everything.

  My hands were sweaty and cold. My stomach was flip-flopping like a fish out of water. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gotten more than a couple hours of sleep. And I’d woken in a state of utter panic that morning.

  Not even the emergency joint I’d allowed myself before coming down to breakfast was able to make a dent in my stress levels. The chemistry exams were getting returned and I already knew it wasn’t going to be pretty.

  I sat through homeroom, ignoring the way Angela was pointedly ignoring me, wishing I could fast-forward the day to get it over with. Worse still, Elijah hadn’t shown up before the late bell rang. I needed him. There was no way I could make it through the day without him.

  When he wasn’t waiting for me after first period, I pulled out my cell—to hell with the no phones rule—and shot him a message.

  Where are you?

  I put my phone on vibrate and felt his response come in while I swapped out my books at my locker.

  Home. Sick.

  You’re not coming to school? I need you.

  I can’t. I’m sorry, Princess.

  He was sorry? The chem tests come back today.

  I know. I’m so sorry, Ry. Don’t worry. Everything will be okay. I love you.

  Don’t worry? Easy for him to say. Okay. Feel better.

  I shut my phone off to avoid any more unnecessary trouble in my life and stuffed it in my bag. Today was going to suck, plain and simple. I didn’t realize quite how much until I turned over my test paper in chemistry that afternoon and found no grade at all.

  Just a note scrawled in red pen that said, ‘See me after class.’