Glass - 02

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Glass - 02 Page 25

by Ellen Hopkins


  between Brad and me.

  A quarter pound? Holy shit.

  Brad never mentioned that.

  I don’t have that kind of money.

  Do my eyes reflect the terror I

  feel? We’ll take a quarter.

  Brad produces a wad of cash.

  Apparently, we’re now partners.

  Cesar shrugs and goes into the

  other room. We’ll split the

  profit, okay? says Brad.

  Move the quarter, you’ll

  have plenty of cash to score.

  I hope he’s willing to share

  his customer list too. I need

  to off the stuff as quickly as

  possible, for several reasons.

  Four ounces? I have graduated

  again—to the major league.

  Brad Drops Me Off

  I half-expect him to ask

  to come inside, smoke

  a little, make love a little.

  Instead, he turns to me.

  I know you’re mad at me.

  But please understand…

  “I do understand. Not

  your job to babysit me.”

  Kind of mean, but oh well.

  Okay. Right. But please

  be careful. This is a major

  quantity. Don’t leave it…

  His money. I understand

  that, too. “I’ll be careful. I

  want to off this right away

  and pay you back. Will you

  let your people know how

  to get hold of me?”

  No problem. I trust you to pay

  me back. He pauses. I just

  want you to know I never

  expected Angela to come

  home or I wouldn’t have…

  I still care for you, you know.

  That phrase again. Everyone

  cares for me. They just don’t

  know how to love me.

  I Left My Cell

  On the charger. When I turn

  it on to check messages,

  there are two.

  Mom: Sorry I missed

  Trey: Where are you?

  your call yesterday. We

  I know Angela moved

  were out celebrating my

  back home. I’ll be there

  birthday. Are you okay?

  tonight. Are you okay?

  They both sound totally

  stressed. Guess Mom

  doesn’t like the idea

  of chalking up

  another year.

  But what’s

  up with Trey?

  Probably hungry for

  meth. Guess what. Now

  he’ll have to get it from me.

  Why Am I Not More Excited

  About Trey coming tonight?

  I still love him. But I can’t

  seem to find that high-

  blood-pressure anticipation.

  Maybe it’s knowing some

  other girl has sent him on

  his way. Maybe it’s because

  I’m on my period and can’t

  make love to him, anyway.

  Is it because I’m not buzzed?

  Regardless, I dial his number,

  with the usual result, leave

  him directions to the motel,

  sans an “I love you” addendum.

  Wonder if he’ll even notice.

  Wonder if he’ll even care.

  Wonder if he’ll drop in, score,

  drop back out of my life again

  until he needs to restock.

  Maybe I should get buzzed.

  Next, I call Mom. “Sorry I

  missed your birthday, but I

  had to move out of the Red

  Rock house…. No, the guy’s

  wife came back and they

  don’t need a nanny anymore….

  I’m in a weekly for now. Can I

  come out tomorrow and bring your

  birthday present? See you then.”

  Maybe I shouldn’t get buzzed.

  Who knows if or when Trey

  will get here? I flip on the TV,

  debating whether or not to get

  buzzed. An hour passes. Two,

  with nothing but reality shows

  to keep me company. Who needs

  that kind of reality? I pick

  up the phone and call Quade.

  We talk for a long while, and

  after we hang up, I get buzzed.

  By the Time Trey Knocks

  On the door, I am very buzzed

  and almost beyond caring

  that he has finally arrived.

  One look at him and all that

  changes. He’s shaken, pale.

  He stumbles through the door

  and I lock it behind him,

  invite him into my arms.

  “What’s wrong?” I guide

  him into a chair. I, uh…just

  had a major blowout with

  Brad. He catches his breath,

  chooses his words. I went out

  there first, looking for ice.

  Angela was over the top.

  How was I supposed to know

  she’d gone to Narcotics Anonymous

  and made Brad go too?

  How was I supposed to know

  she’d fucking freak out and

  threaten to call the cops?

  I mean, standing on the door

  step, screaming. Damn, she’s

  crashing hard. Then, when I

  told her to shut the hell up, Brad

  went off the deep end. I thought

  he was going to haul off and hit me.

  I can picture it all clearly. But

  there’s a puzzle piece missing.

  And it has something to do with,

  “Crashing?” How did he know

  she was using, let alone crashing?

  I never noticed it, not even

  sitting across the table from

  her. What hasn’t he told me?

  “What haven’t you told me?”

  He stops ranting, studies me,

  trying to decide how much

  information I can handle.

  Promise you won’t get mad?

  I don’t want to fight with you,

  too. He looks like he could break.

  This can’t be good. But

  what the hell? I’d almost

  given up on ever seeing

  him again, anyway. If this

  is the last straw, I don’t have

  to get mad, do I? “Promise.”

  You know the girl in Stockton,

  the one I told you about?

  Truth is, it was Angela.

  Bang! Everything falls

  right into place. I do get

  mad. Jealous. Insanely so.

  My mouth tries to open.

  But I won’t let it. Not yet.

  Not until I’ve had enough

  time to completely digest

  his confession, consider

  its implications. I did promise.

  Waiting for Digestion

  I figure we might as well

  ingest a little crystal.

  Maybe not the best idea,

  but I can’t just sit here staring at him like a fool.

  Anyway, I need more

  information and this is

  the best way to get it.

  The monster knows

  the right questions to

  ask. Finally, it pries

  my mouth open. “Did she

  leave Brad for you?”

  The monster supplies

  answers. Not exactly.

  I mean, we flirted a little.

  I think that convinced

  her she wanted to see

  other men. But she didn’t

  come directly to Stockton.

  And when she did, she

  dated other guys too.

 
; A bigger question looms,

  one I don’t want to ask

  because I might hate

  the answer. “Are you

  in love with her?” Is

  that really why he went

  over there tonight?

  He comes over, kneels

  in front of me, looks up

  into my eyes. No. I told

  you it was sex only. In

  fact, I was relieved when

  she informed me she was

  going back to Brad.

  The guilt, believe it or

  not, was incredible. Not

  only because of Brad,

  but because of you.

  I love you. And I don’t

  ever want to hurt you.

  Kristina wants to kiss him

  with every fiber of her

  being. But Bree wants

  him to pay, or at least

  sweat it a little. We

  reach a compromise.

  “Does that mean you’ll

  quit sleeping around?”

  His immediate answer

  surprises me. No, it

  shocks me. Only if

  you ask me to.

  “I’m asking.”

  Okay. He tilts his face

  up toward mine, requesting

  a meeting of lips.

  “One more thing.”

  What?

  “Answer your damn phone.”

  We Seal the Deal

  With a kiss—and more.

  Yeah, I’m still on my

  period. But you’d

  be surprised at

  all the things

  you can do,

  anyway.

  Trey is full of surprises,

  and not just sexy

  ones. We make

  love, but even

  as our bodies

  work, my

  brain is

  busy.

  Two months till school

  is out for summer,

  two months till

  Trey can be

  mine full-

  time. I

  can’t

  stay

  here, alone in this flea-

  bag motel. I need

  another place.

  A place with

  people. One

  comes to

  mind.

  Home. I want to go

  home. Tomorrow

  when I’m there,

  I’ll push Mom

  to please let

  me come

  home.

  But only until summer.

  Clean, Maintenance-Buzzed

  We take my car home.

  Mom and Scott didn’t

  meet Trey before, but

  they might recognize

  the Mustang. I want

  them to like him. Need

  them to love him, one-

  tenth as much as I do.

  I hold a dozen supermarket

  roses in my lap. Scentless.

  What happened to red rose

  perfume? Has the monster

  stolen my sense of smell?

  No, I smell tobacco, too

  strong in my hair and

  clothes. I smell deodorant,

  his and mine. I smell

  leather seats and a faint

  aura of crystal. But still

  no red rose perfume.

  Frustrated, nervous, I

  decide confession is

  in order. “Remember

  a few months ago when

  you dropped me off at

  home? Mom told me

  never to bring you there.

  That’s why I wanted

  us to come in this car.

  I want them to get to

  know you without thinking

  you’re a meth fiend.”

  Well, I’ll do my best to make

  them think otherwise. Then

  he poses an interesting question.

  But what if that’s what I am?

  Mom Greets Us

  With a frosty Hello. The Queen

  of Cool assesses Trey. Finally

  she offers, I’m Marie.

  And you are…

  Trey does his best to be

  pleasant. Pleased to meet

  you. I’m Trey, Kristina’s…

  He crash-lands on fiancé.

  Mom’s mouth drops wide,

  in perfect unison with mine.

  Is that a fact? Kristina

  forgot to mention it.

  Unfazed, Trey trumps

  Mom’s clichéd hand. We

  only decided last night.

  She wanted to surprise you.

  I interrupt the uneasy

  introduction with a bouquet

  of scentless red roses.

  “Happy birthday, Mom.”

  Trey, as already noted,

  is a major player. Yes,

  happy birthday…Mom.

  He gifts her with his great smile.

  Mom is not appreciative.

  Ahem. Let’s go inside…Her

  unfinished sentence hangs midair:

  before anyone notices you here.

  Surprises Await

  The first is Hunter, who

  can now not only crawl

  but also pull himself up

  and walk, holding on to

  the coffee table. He’ll be

  off and running soon.

  Where has the time

  gone?

  The second is Jake, whose

  voice has lowered into

  bass range. I guess we

  haven’t spoken enough

  the last few months for

  me to notice the shift.

  Where has my little brother

  gone?

  His girlfriend is inside

  too. They wade patiently

  through the obligatory

  introductions, disappear

  upstairs to spend time

  alone in Jake’s room.

  Where has propriety

  gone?

  Despite Mom’s clear

  disapproval of Trey,

  Scott seems to accept

  him. They talk sports.

  Talk college. Talk me.

  Mom remains aloof.

  Where has solidarity

  gone?

  While the Guys Talk

  Mom draws me into the kitchen,

  sits me down at the table.

  So what are your plans now?

  Can’t tell her about my new

  career, dealing to hookers.

  New job? School? Uh…marriage?

  [Quick, think up a lie.]

  “I signed up for classes.”

  Did you get your GED?

  [Go ahead, lie bigger.]

  “I did, in fact. Last month.”

  Where are you going to school?

  [She won’t believe a university.]

  “Up at the community college.”

  Good choice, all things considered.

  [What does that mean?]

  “Trey thought it was a good idea.”

  You’re not really going to marry him?

  [You’re not, are you?]

  “What’s wrong with him?”

  Kristina, he’s a total loser.

  Blood pressure rising.

  “He is not! And I love him.”

  You don’t know what love is.

  And rising. “I suppose no

  one knows that but you?”

  You’re too young to get married.

  Not that old line. Answer:

  “You got married at eighteen.”

  To a total loser. Look what happened.

  Ears burning. “I don’t care!

  Your life isn’t mine.”

  Lower your voice this instant.

  Up. Up. Up goes my voice.

  “You can’t make me.”

  I’m still your mother…

  “Yeah, you’
re my mother,

  and a cold-hearted bitch.”

  Don’t ever talk to me like that!

  “What are you going to do?

  Ground me until further notice?”

  I think it’s time for you to leave.

  So much for moving home.

  Halfway Back

  To the motel, Trey

  drops another surprise

  smack in my lap.

  What would you say

  if I told you I’m not going

  back to school?

  Weird, but Bree sides

  with Mom. [She’s right.

  He’s a loser.]

  Kristina, however,

  is all for it. “Really? Since

  when? Are you sure?”

  I totally screwed up this

  semester, anyway. I can

  always go back and

  finish up, or maybe I’ll

  transfer to UNR. Meanwhile,

  we’ll be together.

  A ton of questions pop

  into my head. Did he

  screw up because of

  the meth? Angela? Me?

  What will this mean to his

  dream of becoming

  an electrical engineer?

  Does this translate to we’re

  living together? Was

  the word “fiancé” just

  for my mom’s benefit? I’m

  afraid to ask any of that.

  I was thinking we could

  get an apartment together.

  I mean, if you want…

  Well, of course I want.

 

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