by Maretta, L
Falling from Disgrace
L. Maretta
Copyright © 2013 by L. Maretta
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without the express permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation with the author’s rights.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental.
This book contains content that involves graphic sex and drug use. It is intended for mature readers only.
Published August 2013
Book cover design by Matt Denton
Prologue
Rachel Simms and I walk hand-in-hand up the stairs leading to our friend Kyle’s apartment. We’re giggling like the silly girls we are, excited about the party we are about to attend celebrating the soon-to-be graduates of Northwestern University. Just before we enter I turn towards my best friend and ask her to do a teeth check. We had eaten pizza just a bit ago and I wanted to make sure there wasn’t any stray cheese or pieces of oregano stuck in my smile.
“You’re good,” she tells me then smiles widely at me so I can return the favor. Spying a little red dot between her two front teeth, I scrape it away with my fingernail and wipe it on her sleeve.
“Thanks, pumpkin,” Rae grins and we enter the apartment.
There’s a good turnout at Kyle’s party. It isn’t too crowded, but his apartment is alive with loud voices and heavy bass pumping from the stereo. Rae and I make our way through the friendly faces heading straight for the kitchen to hit the keg. Kyle greets us and pours us each a beer and then raises his red Solo Cup in salute.
“To the future’s greatest politician this country will ever see,” he says, referring to himself, “the future CEO of whatever,” he says, gesturing towards our friend Stu at his side, “the future’s greatest surgeon,” is directed at Rachel, and then lastly me, “and the future’s greatest pediatrician.” He raises his cup high above his head and continues, “And to all the graduating class of 2009, Congratu-fucking-lations!”
We all cheer and my friends chug their drinks while I take just a sip of mine. The remainder of my drink will go untouched, for I am the designated driver tonight.
Rachel and I mingle among the guests, most of them known to us from rowing crew at the university. We were rowers from high school and when we were accepted into Northwestern, we both continued with the sport. Rachel partakes in a game of Beer Pong while I chat with our teammate Katie about plans for the summer.
An hour later and I am sitting on Kyle’s couch, bummed that Ethan, my current crush has not shown up. He had told me he was going to be here and I went the extra mile to look good tonight, blowing out my long dark locks, carefully applying mascara and lip gloss, and squeezing into my designer skinny jeans hoping to get his attention. He had been flirting with me for ages but never asked me out. I was determined to change that this evening.
Rachel flops down on the couch beside me and flips her long hair while typing quickly on her phone. In looks, Rachel and I are complete opposites. My hair is dark; hers is light. I am pale and she sports golden skin all year round. My eyes are large and dark brown while hers are a sparkling emerald. Our differences only go as far as our looks though. We have been best friends since second grade and our interests, everything from our favorite color to wanting careers in the medical field, are the same.
Rachel looks up from her phone and says, “Jason wants to know if he should pick me up. I’m kinda ready to leave, Ade.”
“No!” I beg her. “I can’t leave yet, Ethan still might show up and you can’t leave me here.” I put my head on her shoulder and whine, “please, please, please just wait a little longer.”
She sighs, “Fine,” and then goes back to texting Jason Landon, her boyfriend of two years.
Another hour later and Ethan still has not shown up, much to my dismay. Most of the other guests are drunk and acting like fools and my sober self is becoming bored. Giving up, I sadly let Rachel pull me from the house and we drive away in my old, white Honda.
Rachel is slightly tipsy and I laugh at her as she tries to sing along with the songs on the radio. When we stop at a red light, she turns to me and says, “I think Jason is going to propose soon.”
My wide eyes turn towards her and I gasp, “Really? How do you know?”
She shrugs and tells me, “I just have a feeling. He’s been acting a little weird lately.”
“What do you think you’ll say?”
“I don’t know, Ade.”
“What do you mean? You love Jason!”
“I know but we have med school coming up and then internships and our residencies; that’s going to take a long time. I would want to wait until I’m done before I get married and I don’t know if Jason will.”
The light turns green and I press on the accelerator while I say, “I’m sure Jason will understand. He knows how important being a doctor is to you.”
Rachel does not get a chance to reply. There is an ear splitting explosion and everything goes black.
Chapter 1
Adrianna Adello’s first thought upon waking up was, “What the hell is that smell?” Her second thought: “Where are my pills?”
She reluctantly opened her eyes, squinting from the morning sunlight sneaking in through the slivers of space between the blinds on her bedroom window, and then recoiled from the large, wide-open mouth that was exhaling morning breath literally an inch from her face.
It seemed Adrianna’s guest had forgotten about her no sleepovers policy and not only had he overstayed his welcome, he was now on her side of the bed affronting her delicate senses with his stale whiskey and cigarette scented snores. Irritated with how her day was already starting, she shoved Ryan firmly in his shoulder and told him to get up before she dragged herself from the bed and shuffled her naked body to the adjoining bathroom. Ryan mumbled something and then continued to snore.
Adrianna’s head was pounding, her back was sore, and her stomach was clenched from nausea and pain, as it usually was when alcohol aided her in getting more than four hours of sleep. She ignored it; however, knowing that in just a short time she would be given respite. The bathroom lights were left off but she was still able to navigate her way to the toilet first and then over to the sink to access the plastic bottle that held her salvation. Two white, oval shaped pills fell into her shaking hand before they were washed down her parched throat with water from the faucet. She instantly felt calmer and more alert. Her eyes averted the mirror, studying the white porcelain of the sink instead, as she brushed her teeth and ran a wet washcloth over her face. She took a few deep breaths before heading back into her bedroom to rid her sheets of Ryan and his halitosis.
Ryan’s arm stretched across the bed in search of Adrianna when he finally woke and when he came up with nothing his head lifted to find her pulling on a black tank top and red boy shorts.
“Why don’t you get your gorgeous ass back in this bed, woman?” he asked with a pat to the mattress.
“Why don’t you get your ass out of my bed and head on home,” she retorted. “You know I don’t do sleepovers, Ryan.”
He laughed and stood, bringing his arms above his head to flex his stiff muscles. His morning hard-on was prominently on display as he stalked over to where Adrianna was standing near her dresser, and he wrapped his long arms around her waist. Before he could plant his lips on hers, Adrianna brought her hand up to cover his mouth with her palm.
“You have some serious morning breath.”
Adrianna heard him relieve himself while she stripped the sheets from her bed and then sprinted across her room when she perceived the telltale sounds of teeth cleaning.
“You are not using my toothbrush,” she admonished while leaning against the doorframe. Ryan winked at her while he continued to do just that and then leaned over to spit a white, frothy mass into the sink. At least he had the sense to rinse it when he was done.
“You said I had bad breath,” he said nonchalantly, like it completely justified his actions. “I thought you’d want me to do something about it.”
“Yes, I wanted you to go home first though,” she said, returning to her bedroom once again with Ryan following.
He grabbed her and turned her to face him, pressing her body firmly against his naked one. Without an excuse to push him away this time, she let him kiss her, his tongue making several deep sweeps through her mouth.
“Better?” Ryan asked and then pressed his closed lips to Adrianna’s once more.
“Much,” she told him. “Now will you get out of here? I have things to do.”
That was a blatant lie, but Ryan didn’t know that. In fact, Ryan didn’t know much about Adrianna at all. Though they had met over a year ago, their knowledge of each other was limited to what they liked to drink and how they liked to fuck. Usually, Adrianna never slept with a guy more than once but Ryan was her only exception. Everyone needs a fuck-buddy, right? Ryan was hers.
She normally let at least a month pass between hook-ups with Ryan but they had been together only two weeks ago. That morning was proof of why Adrianna needed to stick to her rules better and not see him so often. He had slept over and sleeping over led to getting comfortable and getting comfortable led to relationships. Adrianna did not do relationships.
Ryan looked slightly insulted but he did not release his hold on her. “Are you always this cranky in the morning?”
“Yes, and that’s one of the many reasons I don’t like people spending the night.”
He smirked and then brought his lips to her neck while moving his hands down to her barely covered ass. “I bet I know how to get you in a better mood,” he growled.
As far as fuck-buddies go, Ryan was a decent choice. He was a good looking guy but there was nothing special that distinguished him from other good looking guys. He was tall and lean with light, brown hair and dark, brown eyes. The most important thing about a fuck-buddy is that he’s good in bed and Ryan was. He was also good with the foreplay which is why Adrianna considered going one more round with him before she sent him on his way. She really didn’t have anything to do that day and since she vowed to let much more time go by before seeing him again, she figured, what the hell, and didn’t protest when he peeled her tank top off and circled his tongue around her nipple.
The sex was over fairly quickly and Adrianna lay on her bare mattress while Ryan disposed of the condom and got dressed. He gave her one more peek of his taut ass as he bent over to pull his jeans up, securing them low on his waist before shrugging on his black, button down shirt.
When his shoes were on and he found his keys, phone, and wallet, he leaned over to give Adrianna a parting kiss and said the same thing he always did after one of their trysts. “This was fun. I’ll see you soon.”
They both knew it was a lie; the see you soon part, that was. Ryan wasn’t interested in a relationship any more than Adrianna was and their arrangement worked well for the both of them. As long as he went back to sleeping at his own place, they would continue to see each other, though only sporadically.
Ryan let himself out and Adrianna lay in bed for as long as her back allowed, which wasn’t long at all. Soon it was stiff and aching and so she had to get up. Her tank top and boy shorts went back on and she threw her long, dark hair into a ponytail, and fluffed her thick bangs in place. She twisted at the waist to pop her spine and then stretched her head from side to side to crack her neck. The relief was short lived and so another white tablet went down her throat before she threw hers and Ryan’s sex sheets into the hamper and then figured out what she wanted to do with her Saturday.
Her feet carried her across her apartment, which was small with only one bedroom, one and a half baths, a living room, and eat-in kitchen, but it suited Adrianna’s needs. As she made her way over to the coffee pot, she picked up her clothes from last night that were strewn across her beige, Berber carpet and taupe, microfiber sofa. They were deposited in a small pile on the kitchen table while coffee brewed and she loaded dirty dishes into the dishwasher.
By her second cup of caffeine, the drug-induced endorphins kicked in and Adrianna was feeling happy and relaxed. Knowing the euphoria would not last long, she decided to spend the rest of the morning cleaning. Fueled with Folgers and Vicodin, she began with washing down the countertops and then mopped the small, tiled floor. The bathrooms were scrubbed, her shelves were dusted, her vacuum got a good workout and she was feeling no pain. Suddenly the idea of organizing her bedroom closet seemed like a good one.
Clothes were flung from hangers as she got rid of outfits she hadn’t worn in a while and then she rearranged her shoes so that they were in neat rows. She moved to her jeans next, that were in large, crooked stacks on a high shelf, and she pulled them all down, letting them drop to the floor with a loud thud. A photo album she had forgotten about peeked out from in between a pair of Levi’s, like a dirty secret waiting to be discovered. Adrianna pulled the blue, leather bound book into her hands and wiped the dust from its edges. Her legs folded down so that she was Indian-style on the floor of her closet and she opened to the first page.
Her high came crashing down when she saw the first picture. It was one of Rachael and her from high school. They were hugging cheek-to-cheek and smiling brightly at the camera, Rachel’s blonde hair a contrast to Adrianna’s dark. She ran her hand lovingly over the photograph. It was from their junior year when Rachel’s parents had taken them to the beach for a long weekend to celebrate Rachel’s birthday. Flipping through the pages, Adrianna grew depressed and tears fell onto the plastic film that covered the photos. Soon Adrianna was sobbing. She missed her best friend.
Feeling desolate and drained now, she pulled herself from the floor to find her pills, her closet completely forgotten. After she popped one more, she flopped back down on her unmade bed and cried herself back to sleep.
Chapter 2
Adrianna’s days weren’t always as rough as the previous Saturday’s. She usually got through without suffering any breakdowns, as long as she was able to keep the physical pain at bay with the Vicodin. Speaking of her pills, she had noticed yesterday morning that her supply was running low and so she made an appointment with her doctor for that afternoon. It was the usual stuff; he checked her out, asked a few questions and then gave her a script for another hundred and twenty pills. It had not yet been a full month since her last visit but she had told him this last month had been particularly painful because she had pulled a muscle at the gym. He bought it. Adrianna didn’t go to the gym.
She didn’t work or go to school either. The accident four years ago that left her with crushed vertebrae in her back and neck had supplied her with enough money to live off of comfortably for the foreseeable future, and she was going to ensure it lasted by living cheaply. And so at twenty-six, Adrianna lived a mostly isolated life, taking Vicodin to get her through the week, and sometimes mixing in gin and sex on the weekends. It was boring, depressing, and getting old, but it was all she knew.
After taking two years to fully recover from the accident, Adrianna never resumed her degree in pediatrics and moved to Chicago, a few hours away from her parents who still lived in the small, suburban Illinois town she grew up in. They didn’t like her decision to move away, but she had been twenty-four, had money, and was ready to live on her own; away from her parents, away from her friends, and away
from the pathetic glances that would be thrown her way whenever she went out in her small town.
Adrianna was returning from the pharmacy on a Friday when she heard noises coming from the apartment across the hall. Surprised that her neighbor Heather would be home at three in the afternoon, she stowed her meds in her purse and then let herself into Heather’s apartment. Heather was a thirty-six-year-old single mother with a little boy named Trevor.
She was Adrianna’s closest friend, which is to say she knew Adrianna was twenty-six, had been in an accident, lived alone, and didn’t have a boyfriend. Adrianna didn’t like to share much about herself with anyone but when she moved in across the hall, Heather and Trevor came over with an apple pie to welcome her to the building. In the two years since she’d moved in they became friendly.
Heather was in her living room rubbing a blue, fluffy thing attached to a long white stick across her wall.
“What are you doing?” Adrianna asked with an amused expression.
“Hey, toots!” Heather greeted looking over her shoulder. “I’m dusting.”
