Shattered

by Carlson, Melody

  So goes the day. Daniel and I meet up when we can here and there, and by lunchtime, I even feel accepted by Daniel’s friends. It’s like I really am a different person. I sit at their table and attempt to be congenial, try to fit in, and at the same time marvel that I am welcome here. What would Lola say? Beneath the surface I am aware that the price I’ve paid for this kind of acceptance is steep—very steep. But with the help of another pill, I am able to soften the sharp edges of that reality.

  I’ve already checked my phone messages and know that T. J. has returned my call. His message is short, and I can tell he’s suspicious. I can’t afford to risk calling him back until I’m certain no one is around to overhear me.

  After school, Daniel asks me if I want to get coffee again. And despite the nagging need to call T. J., I agree. But after we get to The Coffee Station and order our coffees, I excuse myself to the bathroom, where I quickly call T. J. and he tells me that Drew backed up my story.

  “So where do you want to meet?” he asks. “Someplace public but private, if you know what I mean.”

  I think hard, then finally suggest we meet at the small park in my neighborhood at five o’clock. He tells me to bring cash and not to be late. As I close my phone, I can’t help but think how weird and shady this rendezvous sounds, but really, what choice do I have?

  By the time I rejoin Daniel, he’s already picked up our mochas and is waiting at the same table as yesterday.

  “Is this our table now?” I ask in a teasing tone.

  He smiles. “Maybe so.”

  And now, determined to focus the conversation away from me, I ask Daniel all kinds of things about himself. Fortunately he doesn’t seem to mind this attention, and the more he talks, the more I like him. And I’m surprised to discover that although we plan to attend different colleges next fall, they are only twenty miles apart. And already Daniel is talking about how we can meet up, like we’ll still be together then. It all feels so wonderful, but at the same time, it feels like I’m in a bit of a fog. Yet it’s a nice, warm sort of fog.

  “Any big plans for Easter this weekend?” Daniel asks me.

  “Really? It’s Easter already?”

  “Yeah, it actually came late this year. I mean, May’s just over a week away. Can you believe that?”

  I shake my head. “I guess I’ve kind of lost track of the time lately.”

  “Not me,” he says. “I’m already counting the days until graduation.”

  “Graduation...” I try to wrap my head around that.

  He reaches across the table, putting his hand over mine. “It’s probably going to be hard not having your mother there.”

  I sigh. “A lot of things are going to be hard. And I appreciate how understanding you are about... well, everything. But sometimes it’s easier not to talk about it too much. You know?”

  “Yeah.” He nods. “I get that.”

  We talk some more, but our coffees are gone now and I’m thinking I need to figure out a way to get some cash so I can pay T. J. Then I come up with an idea. “Hey, do you mind if I run over to the bank down the street?” I glance at my watch. “I just remembered I need to take care of something before the weekend.”

  “No problem.”

  I grab my purse and hurry out, thankful that he didn’t offer to come with me, thankful there’s a branch of our bank nearby, even more thankful that I have my own savings account. And while my savings are supposed to be for college, if I can’t survive my own life, I probably won’t be much use at college anyway.

  My hands are shaking as I fill out the savings withdrawal form. I have no idea how much these pills are going to cost, but I suspect they won’t be cheap. And worried that I could run short, I decide to take out five hundred dollars.

  But when the teller counts out my cash, I start to feel a little freaked—like what am I doing?

  “Planning a big weekend?” she asks cheerfully.

  “Yeah,” I lie. “My friend and I are going shopping.”

  “Ooh.” She grins. “Sounds fun.”

  I put the cash in my purse and hurry back to the coffeehouse where Daniel is talking to a couple of friends, Geoff and Leah. “Hey, we just decided to see a movie tonight. It’s an indie film at that new theater in the city,” he tells me. “Can you come?”

  “Sure.” I’m surprised at how easily I say this, and it doesn’t escape me that this would not be nearly so easy if my mom were still alive. Not that I want to think about that.

  Daniel makes a plan with the others about where we’ll meet up, and then I tell Daniel I should probably get home to take care of some things first. But as he drives me home, all I can think is that I’m about to meet up with a drug dealer. And what would Daniel think if he knew?

  “See you around six?” he asks me on the porch.

  “Sounds good.”

  He smiles, and my heart does a little flip. As he waves and leaves, I still can’t believe that this is real, that this is my life. But as I go inside, I realize that my life has a lot of very strange elements in it... a lot of striking contrasts. To my relief, Aunt Kellie doesn’t seem to be here. And I almost wonder if she’s finally come to her senses and decided to move back home. Except I know she promised my dad she’d stick around while he goes on his next trip, so that means at least two more weeks.

  It’s still about fifteen minutes until five, so I pace around the house, arguing with myself about what I’m about to do.

  Finally it’s five minutes until five. With a wad of cash in the pocket of my jeans, I head out, walking quickly to the park. T. J. told me he’s tall with dark hair, he’d be wearing a denim jacket, and he’s easy to spot. But my legs feel jittery as I make my way toward him, still telling myself I don’t have to do this. Except that I do have to do this.

  “I’m Cleo,” I say quickly.

  “Hey, Cleo.” He flashes a sleazy smile. “You’re a very pretty girl.”

  I just shrug. “Thanks.” “Are you Drew’s girlfriend?”

  “No. Did he tell you that?”

  “Not exactly. But I could tell he likes you. He told me to treat you right.”

  “Oh...”

  “And Drew told me you’re dealing with your mom’s death. That’s gotta be tough.”

  I relax a little. “Yeah, it is. I, uh, I need help to get through it.”

  “What kind of help?”

  Now, almost like I’m talking to a doctor or a shrink, I spill my story about how I’ve been taking the Vicodin and how they seem to be helping. “Except that sometimes I feel so fuzzy that I can’t focus. And sometimes I have trouble sleeping at night. I just need something that will block out the pain, you know? But I don’t want to be sleepy. I need to have some energy during the day. But I need to sleep at night.”

  He nods like he’s taking this all in. “I think you need a combination of things, Cleo. I’d suggest some weed to relax and—”

  “No. I don’t want weed. I want legal drugs.”

  “Legal drugs?” He kind of laughs.

  “You know what I mean. Prescription drugs. Can you do that?”

  “Hey, you’re talking to T. J. I can do anything.” His mouth twists to one side, like he’s thinking hard. “I know what you need.” Then he begins throwing around names like Adderall, Cylert, Xanax, Zoloft, and Luminal, and I honestly have no idea what he’s talking about.

  “Confused?” he asks.

  “Yeah. Pretty much.” I glance over my shoulder, worried that someone might see or hear us, but other than a couple of kids on the playground swings, the park is empty.

  “Do you trust me, Cleo?”

  I blink, wondering why I should trust this complete stranger. Except that I’m desperate. “Yeah... I guess so.”

  “Then I’ll put together some things for you and get them to you, like, tomorrow afternoon. Okay?”

  “But I’m all out of Vicodin now. I’m not sure I can make it until tomorrow without going crazy.”

  “No problemo.” He reac
hes into a pocket and pulls out a small Ziploc bag of pills. “I just happen to have a starter set.” And once again he’s tossing out words that mean nothing to me.

  “Can you make it simpler? I’m not really an expert at this.”

  He chuckles, then tells me the red ones are to keep me awake and functioning and the blue ones are to help me sleep. “And the white ones are kind of like Vicodin; they dull the pain.”

  “How much?” I look longingly at the bag.

  “For you?” He narrows his eyes slightly. “A hundred bucks.”

  “A hundred dollars?” I blink. “For just a few pills?”

  “Hey, there’s enough to keep you going for three days. It’s a bargain.”

  I have no idea whether he’s telling me the truth or just taking advantage of me, but I don’t have time to waste. I’ve got to get ready before Daniel picks me up. “Okay,” I say reluctantly. “I’ll buy them.”

  Feeling self-conscious, I turn away from him and pull out my cash. I slip out a hundred-dollar bill and shove the other bills back into my pocket. For all I know this guy could rob me. Maybe he’s robbing me right now. What if these are just sugar pills?

  “Here you go.” I discreetly hand him the bill.

  “And here you go.” He slips the Ziploc into my hand. “A pleasure doing business with you, Cleo.” He pockets my money. “And if you need anything else, you just give me a call.” He grins. “You’ve got my number, babe.”

  “Will it always cost this much? I mean, there’s no way I can afford to pay a hundred dollars every three days.”

  His dark brows arch. “Oh, there’s more than one way to pay for what you need. A pretty girl like you...”

  A chill of fear runs through me, and I step back from him. “Thanks, T. J.,” I say somberly. “I’ve got to go.”

  Then as I turn and hurry away, he’s laughing like he thinks I’m hilarious. And as I jog toward home, I tell myself I will never, ever do this again. I feel dirty and sickened and ashamed. So ashamed.

  However, I’m not ashamed enough to flush the pills down the toilet. I wish I were, but I just can’t. I am weak. I am needy. And I just need this little bit of help. I will wean myself from these pills soon, but for now, I need them. The question is, which one do I need tonight?

  The white ones look tempting. T. J. said they’re like Vicodin. On the other hand, I don’t always like that fuzzy, tired feeling. So I decide to go with a red one. I want to be awake and alert for my first date with Daniel.

  In a way, this feels like my first date ever. Oh, I’ve gone out before a couple of times, but not with anyone I cared much for. And they were both dates Lola set up. One during our sophomore year when she had a brief crush on a senior and he talked his friend into being my date. But the evening was a disaster—both guys acted like perverts, and that night set both Lola and me back about a year in dating. The next time was last summer when Lola wanted to go out with a guy from her work. We made it a foursome, and although it wasn’t as bad as the pervert dudes, it was a disappointment.

  But tonight will be different. And maybe I’m getting some help from that little red pill, or maybe I’m just feeling good, but I have high hopes as I crank up my CD player and get dressed. By the time I’m doing a final check in the mirror, I feel like dancing. I’m wearing a top Lola gave me, one my mother thought was too tight. But I’m not going to think about that tonight. Tonight is for having fun.

  It’s nearly six o’clock when I head out of my room. I still feel like dancing, but I hear someone rustling around in the kitchen, so I control myself. When I peek around the corner, I see my dad putting some bags on the table. He jumps when he sees me.

  “Sorry,” I say. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “I didn’t think you were home.” He shoves something behind his back.

  I tilt my head, trying to see what he’s hiding, but then I spy what looks like a bag of plastic Easter grass and some other Easter goodies in the bag and I think I know. “Uh-oh,” I say as I turn around. “Wouldn’t want to catch the Easter Bunny on his night off.”

  Dad chuckles. “You know how your mom... used to like to...”

  I take in a deep breath. “Yeah, I know.”

  “It’s kind of silly, but—”

  “No, it’s not silly, Dad. It’s sweet.”

  Just then the doorbell rings, and I quickly explain that I’m going to a movie with some friends.

  “That’s nice.” And Dad seems genuinely pleased. “I’m glad to see you getting back to your normal life, Cleo. It’s a comfort.”

  “Yeah, Mom would probably like that.”

  “You have fun now.”

  “Thanks.” I hold up my bag. “And I have my phone, you know, if you need to reach me.” “And I’ll be here,” he promises.

  I go over and kiss him on the cheek, and he looks surprised since that’s not something I usually do. “Love you, Dad,” I call as I walk to the door.

  “Love you too, Cleo.”

  His words are still echoing inside my head. “Glad to see you getting back to your normal life... your normal life...”

  Like that’s even possible anymore.

  . . . [CHAPTER 14] . . . . . . . . . . . .

  As I open the front door, I repress all thoughts of elusive normality. But I’m glad to see Daniel standing there. And ging by his expression, he’s glad to see me too. “Hey, you’re Mr. Punctuality,” I tell him.

  “I was hoping there’d be enough time for me to meet your dad.”

  “Uh, yeah, sure.” I open the door wider. “Come on in.”

  Now I’m a little uneasy because I never actually told my dad this was a real date. Not that it should matter much to him. After all, he is my dad... not my mother. So I take Daniel into the kitchen where Dad is just popping a yellow Peep into his mouth, and I quickly make an introduction.

  “Excuse me,” Dad says as he quickly chews, brushes the sugar off his fingers, then shakes hands with Daniel. “Pleased to meet you.”

  “I know I’ve seen you in church before,” Daniel tells him. “But I don’t think we’ve actually met.”

  “No.” Dad studies Daniel carefully, and I can tell he approves. “I don’t think we’ve have. Thanks for taking the time to meet me tonight.”

  “And I promise to have your daughter back home by eleven,” Daniel tells him respectfully. “Is that okay?”

  “I appreciate that.” Dad nods, then holds out the open box with a sheepish grin. “Care for a Peep?”

  I can’t help but giggle as Daniel carefully pulls out a bright yellow Peep.

  “How about you, Cleo?”

  I shake my head. “No thanks, Dad. I think I’ll wait for Easter.”

  Then Daniel and I leave, and soon he is driving us into the city. For a brief moment it hits me—only one week but another lifetime ago, Lola and I were merrily riding the metro into the city. But I block these thoughts out, focusing instead on Daniel as I chatter nonstop about everything and nothing, just filling the air with words.

  “You seem pretty happy tonight,” he tells me as we’re walking to the cafe where we planned to meet Leah and Geoff.

  “It’s weird, but I feel happy. I think it might be the weather.” Then worried that I might seem callous since it’s been only a week since my mom died, I add, “My mother always loved this time of year. It’s like I can kinda feel her spirit in the air.”

  “Cool.”

  While we have a light dinner with Geoff and Leah, I can tell I’m far more animated than usual. And even though I try to subdue myself and slow it down and just plain shut up, I can’t. It’s like I’ve had too much coffee. Like I’m wired. That little red pill!

  Suddenly I remember a certain ballet—The Red Shoes. The girl puts on those pretty red shoes and cannot stop dancing. Red shoes... red pill... I cannot stop talking. And yet everyone at the table seems to be interested in my babbling, like I must be entertaining, and it’s kind of fun being the center of attention like this. Even so
, I’m relieved when we’re finally inside the theater, a cool old building that’s been totally restored. And I’m hoping that sitting in a semidark place will help me calm down. But I can’t slow down this feeling. The plush seat beneath me feels like a million tiny needles poking through my clothes and into my skin. I want to squirm and twist, and I can feel my hands trembling and my heart racing wildly, kind of like it’s going up and down on a roller coaster. What if I have a heart attack? I mean, I have no idea what was actually in that expensive red pill. What if it’s something really dangerous?

  So instead of enjoying the film, which from time to time looks interesting, I obsess over my health, what I’ve done, and the fact that I cannot seem to sit still. It’s like my skin is crawling, and I’m afraid I might stand up and scream. I feel tortured. And yet a part of me likes it, too. Like it compels all my senses to ride this roller coaster, like it’s blocking everything else out.

  After what feels like ten years, the movie finally ends and the lights, which seem garishly bright, come on. Then we go outside, where I feel like everything inside of me is shaking uncontrollably. Fortunately no one else seems to notice. We stand out on the sidewalk, where the others critique the movie. And I pretend to agree or disagree. But the truth is, I cannot remember a thing about it. Then Geoff and Leah suggest we go and get some coffee and dessert.

  Daniel peers curiously at me. “You look like you’ve already had too much caffeine,” he teases.

  “Maybe so.” Then I lie and say that I had a couple more cups of coffee at home. “I feel like I’m supercharged.”

  They laugh like this is funny, although I know it’s not. But Daniel’s expression is hard to read, like maybe he’s wondering if something is really wrong with me. So I decide to play the sympathy card once again. “I guess I was worried about being in the city tonight,” I say quietly, eyes downward. And really, this is not completely untrue... just insincere.

  “Oh, that’s right,” Daniel says quickly. “What happened... I mean to your mom... it wasn’t too far from here...”