by J. E. Taylor
My phone rang.
“Hello,” I said with no enthusiasm in my voice.
“Did you want to do something tonight?” Kim asked and I closed my eyes, glancing at the clock. She was up early for a Saturday and I sighed, unsure if I wanted to paint on a smile and pretend everything was okay.
“Not really,” I said.
Silence filtered over the line. “You have to get over him,” she said.
Tears brushed my eyes and I sniffled. “I know, but I can’t seem to.”
“Well, you need to stop wallowing and get out.”
“I’m not feeling very good. You know that pain I told you about?”
“Yeah,” she said.
“It’s back and this time it feels like my whole stomach is on fire.”
“Maybe it’s an ulcer.”
I sighed, I didn’t know what it was, and I was scheduled for a barrage of tests over the next couple of weeks. An ulcer was one of the things they were looking for, too.
“I don’t know what it is. And I’m kind of scared.” It was the first time the admission passed my lips. Six weeks of discomfort and none of the minor tests showed diddly.
“Well, if you won’t go out, we’ll come there.”
I rolled onto my side and stifled a moan of disdain.
“We’ll be over at eight.”
“Who?”
“The whole crew.”
This time I did groan.
“I promise, you’ll have a good time,” she said, but she wasn’t living in my shoes.
The party crew was coming and that meant sneaked in alcohol and weed and the possibility of getting caught partying by my parents. But the thrill just wasn’t there for me, not with the amount of pain wringing my muscles.
I rolled out of bed and nearly crawled to the shower to clean up. At least I wouldn’t be a total mess, and when I wandered downstairs, my parent’s looked up from the television. My mom jumped to her feet.
“Can I get you anything?”
“I’m fine,” I said. “Kim’s coming with some of the guys from work just to say hi.”
She perked up at the news, and I tried to smile. I couldn’t stomach anything to eat right now, or anything to drink for that matter, and the thought of entertaining my friends this evening did not make for a happy day.
Kim and Mia were the first to pull in. Right behind her was Gruber, Todd, and Jake, the crew that worked in the frozen food department. They all stepped inside and traded hello’s with my parents before we all headed up to the den.
As soon as the door closed, Gruber pulled a pint of jack from his pocket. “Got any coke?” he asked with a grin.
I nodded and headed downstairs with Kim.
“You look like crap,” she said and I met her gaze as we stocked up on soda and glasses for the group.
The Jack and Coke didn’t go down as smoothly as I hoped and I gave a half smile to the crew. It wasn’t until Kim cranked the window and nodded for me to join her for a toke, that I started feeling the numbing effects of the drugs.
I had a few moments of relief and then the pain flared enough for me to almost double over.
“Are you okay?” Mia asked, her hand landing on my arm and calling my attention to her.
I gave her a half-hearted shrug. They all traded glances and then nervous laughs before they high tailed it out of there. Leaving me to the excruciating pain.
THE DOORBELL RANG AT the end of February and my mother came up to my room a few minutes later.
“Honey, you have a visitor.”
I rolled and stared at her. Visitor? I hadn’t seen anyone since the night Kim and company came to the house. I hadn’t even had so much as a phone call, but I nodded and slipped into pajamas and a bathrobe, running a brush through my hair just to look presentable.
I crossed the hall into the den and curled up on the couch as my mother led whoever was here up to me.
I blinked when Joe, a regular from the skate park stepped in the room. Joe had never been a party animal like the rest of us. He was usually the designated driver or the one who patched us up when we fell.
“Hi,” I said and he smiled.
“Kim told me you were sick,” he said and took the seat on the other side of the couch. “So, I figured I’d swing by to see how you were doing.”
I’m not sure if it was the EMT in him, or if he was just feeling pity for me, but I was glad for the company. Glad for someone who didn’t steer clear of me because they couldn’t handle the big unknown, and just wanted to avoid conversations about how fucking scared I was.
“I’m alive,” I said. It was about all I could admit to. They had me doped up on pain killers and even that wasn’t cutting through the agony.
He sent me a warm smile, studying me. “Feel like playing cards?”
“Sure,” I said. Anything to get my mind off my situation.
My mother stuck her head in the room just as I pulled the cards off the table and started shuffling.
“Can I get either of you anything?” she asked.
“I’d love a glass of water, Mrs. Wilson,” Joe said and I just shook my head.
When she returned, Joe took a sip of the ice water she delivered and then glanced at me.
“Do you mind putting this on the table behind you?” He held the water out and I put it on the coaster behind me.
I had as much luck with Rummy as I seemed to be having with my life. Joe shuffled and dealt and then nodded toward me with his hand out. The idiot I was, all drugged up on meds and shit, shook his hand.
A smile toyed with his lips, and he started laughing. “Can I have my water?”
If I could have crawled under the couch at that moment, I would have, but his easy laugh soothed the embarrassment. Doing it the first time wasn’t as cringe-worthy as repeating it three more times. It was like my brain couldn’t retain the fact his water was behind me.
Even though I made an ass out of myself, I laughed more than I had in months, and Joe gave me a warm hug, and a promise he would swing in again. He was one of the few who kept his word, and his visits were a lifeline while everything seemed to crumble around me.
IN MID-MARCH, AFTER having every conceivable test, the doctors recommended exploratory surgery. By that time, I was up for anything that would stop the debilitating pain. I had missed enough school to be in jeopardy of having to repeat my junior year and I had given up my job as well.
Being a recluse wasn’t easy either, but the years of silencing my emotions at school gave me a valuable survival mechanism. I thought I was dying of some rare disease, and the ability to lock-down my feelings helped me get through the day.
Nighttime was a different story. That’s when the fears would overwhelm me and more often than not, I cried myself to sleep.
Despite my fear of needles, I welcomed surgery. I welcomed answers, however morbid they may be.
When I came to in the recovery room, my mother sat next to me and offered me a smile of support. There was no dread in her gaze, just relief and I closed my eyes.
“What was it?” I managed to say.
“They said there was an adhesion and they fixed it, but they aren’t sure that is the cause.”
I opened my eyes and met her gaze.
“They recommended you speak to a psychiatrist.”
I was too tired to argue and I just nodded and drifted back to sleep. Waking a few hours later was like stepping out of the fog. The pain was blissfully gone. It was like someone had turned off the switch.
The next day, I woke, expecting the pain, and I even slipped out of bed in that tentative expectant manner, but there was nothing beyond the gentle pull of stitches.
The absence of pain was an odd sensation, and I enjoyed my last few days at home, catching up on all the work I had been so far behind on. The only class I seemed to be struggling with was Geometry. I couldn’t grasp the concept, and the extended absence just fueled my utter math stupidity.
MY FIRST DAY BACK IN school brought a
wave of relief and when I walked out into the courtyard to get a nicotine fix, silence settled over the area. I didn’t look at the gang, just passed by, welcoming the stunned silence.
Rob’s eyebrows shot up and he was quick to pop to his feet and offer me his seat. His bedroom eyes batting like he didn’t quite believe I was real. I gave him a smile and gladly accepted the offered space, bumping my shoulder into Natalie’s.
“How’ve you been?” I asked and lit my cigarette from the flame offered by Rob.
“The question is, how are you?”
“I’m good,” I said and inhaled, closing my eyes. Smoke made a smooth pass down my throat, I blew out the slow stream, opening my eyes, and meeting Rob’s smiling gaze.
Conversations started again, but before I was able to fully relax, the snarky comments were back. I couldn’t help the smile. Life had returned to normal and my time of ridicule was so close to the end, that their comments didn’t bother me in the least.
I think Rob got it, and Natalie wrapped her arm around my shoulder.
“It’s good to have you back,” she said with a quick squeeze.
She didn’t have a clue at how happy I was to be in the land of normal. I knew the verbal assaults would chip away at the euphoria I was feeling, but for now, I embraced it whole-heartedly.
I’m sure the warm welcome I received in my Earth Science class fueled Linda’s fury even more than my easy A’s. She was still uncomfortable in my presence, and I still enjoyed that little tidbit.
Time wore on, the verbal abuse bordered into the threat territory, and I’m sure it had to do with my sabbatical. It was almost as if they were trying to make up for lost time. The absence of authority figures in the courtyard this year didn’t help either. It seemed Heather and their little gang had recruited some new blood that joined zealously in lobbing catcalls in my direction, like it was some new and thrilling game. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out the fascination.
Was it the quest for a response?
Who the hell knew, but I still held fast to ignoring them and the cool winter’s end transitioned to the nice warm spring. Their zealous slurs weren’t working and every now and then, I caught the desperation in the voices, like they knew the sands in the hourglass were running out.
On a fine spring day as I crossed the courtyard toward my friends, pain bloomed on the side of my face, right next to my eye. I touched the tender spot and glanced at the ground, noting the sting of skin and the laughter blanketing the courtyard. A thick rubber band lay at my feet and I turned my glare towards the girls just in time to see the school security guard grab Heather by the arm, yanking her into the building.
I guess she finally succumbed to doing something physical... and got caught.
I blinked the sting out of my eye and continued towards my friends.
“Are you okay?” Rob asked me as he ran his thumb where the rubber band had hit. His bright blue eyes held the same level of concern written in the tight corners of his lips.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” I said and pushed his hand away, pulling a cigarette out of the pack in my pocketbook. He offered me a light and I gave him a nod of thanks after I inhaled the puff.
“I don’t know why you put up with that shit,” he muttered.
“If I react, they win.” I took a puff of my cigarette closing my eyes as I inhaled. “They aren’t going to win. Period,” I added and opened my eyes. He cupped my cheek with his hand. “My silence irritates the fuck out of them and that’s a win in my book.”
Rob batted his bedroom eyes at me and leaned forward, planting a gentle kiss on my lips. He and I had been flirting for a while, so the kiss, while unexpected, wasn’t a real surprise.
Before we had a chance to talk about what just happened, the warning bell rang and we both headed to our separate classes. I couldn’t sit still and despite the interesting discussion and new writing prompt given in my creative writing class, all I could think of was how sweet his kiss had been.
As soon as the bell rang, I gathered my shit, and headed back to the courtyard, which was right around the corner from my classroom. I knew Rob had a longer walk. His class was in the opposite side of the school.
While I waited, I took a drag of my cigarette, lost in thought, until movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. I looked up at the security guard crossing the distance. Her hand grasped Heather’s arm as she marched her to the spot in front of me.
I met her glare and she shifted her weight, glancing back at the security guard before returning her eyes to me.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered.
I let a beat pass and then I stood, staring her down. “Bullshit.”
Her mouth popped open and her eyes widened in shock.
I didn’t wait for any other reaction, I dropped my cigarette and ground it with the toe of my sneaker before heading inside.
When I slid into my seat, I couldn’t help the smile of triumph that formed. The taste of victory was so sweet, I’m not sure what the school expected of me, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to accept a forced apology from that heathen.
Silence Chapter 8
I nearly bounced into school the next morning.
“I don’t feel like hanging here today,” I said to my little group of friends. “Feel like skipping?” I raised an eyebrow and three of the five nodded. Rob, Natalie, and Becky stood when I did, and as a group, we slipped out the side door and booked across the parking lot, finding the small path that led to the apartments below the hill and then to the 7-Eleven beyond.
I made a call, and within fifteen minutes, Pete pulled in. With a smile and a wave, we piled into his car and headed to the nearest package store. Pete was blessed with a fake id and a scruff that made him look much older than eighteen.
We downed the bottle and Pete left us off where he picked us up, heading off to whatever job he had at the moment. He gave me a hug and after we all stumbled from the car, he pulled out, leaving us swaying in the parking lot.
We went to one of the normal party spots behind the 7-Eleven and proceeded to get as high as the three joints we had would allow. I had been properly acquainted with drinking the hard stuff and partying my ass off, so I had passed the point where certain alcohol didn’t make me hurl like it used to, but I couldn’t say the same for Rob.
He vomited like I imagined I did with the Blackberry Brandy New Year’s party. When he passed out, Natalie, Becky and I stared at each other. The flush of panic was as visible in their cheeks as the sting in mine.
“What are we going to do?”
“Well, we have to get him up and moving. Go grab a coke from the store.” I pointed at the 7-Eleven just on the other side of the woods line.
Becky trotted away. Coming back a few minutes later with a cold can of Coca-cola. She handed it to me. “Now what?”
“We have a little over an hour to sober him up enough to get him back to school in time for him to catch his bus. If he misses it, he’s screwed.”
Both Natalie and Becky nodded slowly. Rob lived three towns away and was only at Rockville for the vocational agriculture program.
“If he misses the bus, I sure as shit can’t drive him home,” I said, running my hand through my hair. I had never gotten behind the wheel under the influence. Being a passenger was a different song and dance, but driving while intoxicated was not something I did. I was already an accident magnet and that would be tempting fate.
“How exactly do we do that?” Natalie asked between gnawing on her hangnail.
“I don’t know. Make him mad?”
We all stared at each other until I dropped my gaze to our passed out friend. It was obvious the girls weren’t going to take the lead on this, so I knelt down next to him and lightly tapped his cheeks.
“Rob, you need to wake up.”
His eyes fluttered open, his blazing blue irises were marred by the sheer number of red lines traversing the whites of his eyes. They focused on me for a brief instant before slo
wly rolling back as his eyelids dropped again.
Something about this level of drunk set my heart on overdrive. A critical urge to get him up on his own took over, almost a panic, like, if I didn’t get him moving, he might never move again.
I glanced at Natalie and Becky and saw the same horror painted on their faces.
With a little more force, my palm met his cheek. The full-bodied sound of the slap filled the little alcove. Rob swatted my hand away but his eyes didn’t open. His belligerent mumble gave me a spark of hope.
I repeated the motion and he blinked his eyes open with a crease of aggravation building between them.
“Stop that,” he slurred.
“Get up,” I countered.
He rolled on his side in the warm grass and closed his eyes. I pushed him on his back and my palm cracked his cheek again. This time, a glare filled his eyes when they opened.
Being high didn’t help the situation and I started to giggle.
“Stop hitting me,” he said, his words slurring enough to push me beyond a giggle.
“Not until you get up,” I said and his eyes closed in defiance.
Another slap and he tried to grab my wrist, missed completely, but at least his eyes were open and somewhat focused.
“Stop being a bitch,” he snapped.
“Get on your feet.” I tapped his cheek to get him further ruffled and again he attempted to stop me. My reactions were slow, but his were even slower and I dodged far enough back not to be captured by his aggravated grabs. I wasn’t sure what he would do to me if he caught me, but I would worry about that if he got lucky.
“Fuck you,” he muttered, and tried to curl onto his side.
Another smack got him into a sitting position.
“If you keep slapping me, I swear, I’m going to punch you.”
