Unethical

by Jennifer Blackwood

  She glanced at the clipboard on her desk. “Looks like he’s on the eighth floor.”

  A shudder ran through me. The children’s wing, where all the terminal patients stayed. I could handle the blood, guts, needles, and bodily fluids. Things I couldn’t handle—seeing children in pain. Adults? Yeah, I felt bad, but with children, I wanted to dissolve into a puddle of tears on the floor.

  I made my way to the elevator, where several people in green scrubs stood, waiting. The doors opened, and we all piled into the confined space. Five floors until my stop, every stupid floor lit, giving me ample time to think about the horrors that lurked upstairs.

  Instead of focusing on bald heads and emaciated bodies, I concentrated on my impending grovel sesh with Blake. He had to understand. I would make him understand.

  Once I got off the elevator, I rounded the corner and came to an abrupt stop. In the communal area, where the kids played together, drew pictures, and watched TV, ten kids sat on the ground in a semicircle, Blake propped on the edge of a chair in front of them. He held out a book to the side and read in one of his goofy voices he reserved for little kids. I leaned against the wall, taking in this sight. The kids giggled, and I even heard a few snorts. Once he finished reading the book, one of the kids jumped up and gave him a hug, wrapping her skinny arms around his neck. My ovaries exploded while baby-making music played in my head. God, he’d make a great dad someday.

  Slow it down, Speed Racer. No need to get ahead of myself when I didn’t even know if he would take me back.

  But I couldn’t help it. He had it all. Looks, smarts, and the ability to melt my heart even when he wasn’t trying. A panicky feeling settled deep in my bones. His forgiveness wasn’t a sure thing. I had ignored him. What was to say he would want to try again?

  No way I’d know until I laid it all out.

  I took a few steps toward him but froze when one of the nurses told the kids they needed to go back to their rooms. She caressed Blake’s cheek, and I distinctly heard her say “call me” from twenty feet away. He smiled and nodded.

  Shrapnel lodged in my heart, sending sharp pains coursing through my veins and arteries. The air escaped from my lungs in a rush. I made a beeline for the elevator and pressed the down arrow. Unless the elevator made it there soon, I had a high probability of losing it in the lobby of the children’s wing. The elevator door dinged and opened just in time for me to go into meltdown mode. Luckily, I rode this elevator solo, because hyperventilation set in. I gripped the side rail, the only thing grounding me. I held on for dear life, fearing that if I let go, I would lose all sense of reality. How could I be so stupid? Of course he’d moved on. I had lost my chance with him, and now he was going to hook up with that nurse.

  When I realized the elevator wasn’t moving, I pressed the button for the third floor and wiped my eyes with my sleeve. I had to pull it together long enough to ask Brittany if I could go home. No way I could get through my shift with a chance of running into Blake.

  Brittany sat, hunched in her computer chair, squinting at her monitor when I walked up to her station.

  My pulse hammered in my ears, and I nervously adjusted my ponytail. “I need to go home. Emergency.”

  She looked up from her monitor. The irritation erased from her face, replaced with wide eyes. “Everything all right?”

  “Just a family matter.” I managed to squeeze out the words. If I had to talk any more, it would be between ragged breaths and snot.

  “Go home. I hope everything’s okay.”

  I nodded and turned the other direction, fleeing the building before anyone had a chance to see the inevitable breakdown. My chest ached, like someone had taken a chisel to my heart, chipping away, all hope smothered in the rubble. He was over me. It was over.

  I woke up soaked in sweat. My drenched sheets suctioned to my legs, and my tank top clung to my skin like I had just taken a dip in the pool. I hated these dreams. They always ended the same way—my father killing my mother. Except this one had been different. Instead, my dad took the fatal dose of morphine, crumpling in my mother’s arms. I ran my fingers through my hair and blew out a deep breath. Dad wasn’t dead, but he was stuck in a small prison cell. All alone. And I hadn’t bothered to contact him once. The thought burned like acid through my heart, eating away at my happiness. I inhaled deeply, trying to steady my erratic heartbeat, shaking away thoughts of being a crappy daughter.

  Jules hadn’t come rushing in this time, so I assumed I didn’t scream. Either that or she had built immunity to my night terrors. I squished my way out of bed and stripped my sheets. I couldn’t just toss on another pair of clothes over my clammy skin, so I took off my shorts and tank, wrapped myself in a towel, and padded toward the bathroom.

  Light funneled out through the cracks of Jules’s door. I looked at the clock on the oven, which said it was after three in the morning. Why was she up at this ungodly hour? Face palm. I bet I woke her up.

  I knocked on her door, and a muffled “Come in” came from the other side. I opened the door to find Jules sitting crisscross on her bed, earbud in one ear, and the other one dangling over her shoulder. She still wore her jeans and tank top from earlier today. Her textbook in her lap flapped around on her bouncing leg.

  “I didn’t wake you did I?” I knew the answer to this, but I still felt like I needed an excuse to bug her at three in the morning.

  “Oh, me? No, no, no. I’m good, just studying.” She rattled this off, her leg still bouncing, a little too much pep in her step for this hour of the night. Like watching a cheerleader ingest a whole pack of pixie sticks.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Mmhmm.” She gave one of those fake smiles, the one with no teeth that screamed mass murder-suicide plot.

  Then I saw it. A baggie of white pills sitting on her dresser. I didn’t have a pharmacy degree, but I’d been around long enough to know that you didn’t keep medicine in a baggie. Especially a prescription.

  “What is that?” I nodded to the pills.

  “That?” She pointed to it with her pen. “Nothing.”

  “Nothing? You seem hyped out of your mind. Are you on something?”

  She looked down at her textbook, let out a sigh, and patted the spot next to her on the bed. I sat down, adjusting my towel so I didn’t give her a peep show.

  “You know how I’ve been working, like, a billion hours at GNC?”

  “Yeah?” They had been working her hard. Of course they were. A cute blonde could sell protein and membership cards to any male with a pulse.

  “I hadn’t been able to study as much, and when I did have time, I was super tired, so Andrew offered to help me out.”

  Maybe it was the bad dream I just had or maybe it was because it was the middle of the freakin’ night, but I wasn’t following. “Andrew? How?” Andrew sometimes came to class a little shaky, which was definitely what I was starting to notice about Jules, too.

  “He had some extra Adderall; said it would help me focus.”

  Oh. My. God. He was supplying her drugs.

  “Jules, you need to stop taking these.” I reached over and grabbed the bag, holding it in front of her. “That’s really dangerous. You don’t have ADD.”

  “I’m fine. Seriously.” The tremor in her arm was a stark contradiction to her statement.

  Jeez, how long had she been taking it? This needed to come to an end. A few girls in high school used Adderall to stay up late to study for AP tests. They both developed an addiction to it and had to go to rehab. I couldn’t just sit on the sidelines and watch my best friend turn into an addict.

  “No more. If you need help studying, I’m more than happy to help out, you know that.”

  She nodded. “Okay, I promise. No more.” She swallowed deeply, and her lip began to tremble. She wouldn’t look me in the eye, even when I tried to catch her attention. Heck, I’d be embarrassed, too, if Jules caught me taking drugs. Hopefully I caught this early enough. And to make sure, I’d talk to Andrew fi
rst thing on Friday.

  “Try to get some sleep.” I squeezed her hand, slid off the bed, and went to shower, flushing the pills down the toilet as I waited for the water to heat up.

  I waited to catch Andrew after class on Friday. Sure, I’d be late to anthro yet again, but it would be for a good cause. Something about Drexler eased the neurotic side of me, and somehow I rationalized that it was okay to be late once in a while. My choir teacher would totally not be impressed.

  Jules and Blake had already left for their next class as Andrew packed his spiral into his backpack.

  “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

  “Sure. ‘Sup?”

  We walked out into the quad, and the frosty November wind whipped across my cheeks. A chill ran through me, and I couldn’t tell if it was because of the weather or the fact I was about to call him out on giving Jules drugs.

  “I know you and Jules are friends and all.”

  “So?”

  “She’s my friend, too. And friends look out for each other.” I paused, choosing my next words wisely. “You can’t be giving her Adderall. That stuff’s addictive.”

  “Pfft. You don’t know what you’re talking about. That shit’s harmless.” He waved his hand dismissively.

  I stared at him. This guy was going to be a pharmacist? God help me if he ever filled my prescriptions.

  I didn’t need to argue about side effects, I just needed to end this. Now. “Whatever. Just stop giving it to Jules.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest, glaring down at me. “Or what?”

  Why couldn’t he just say yes and let this whole situation blow over? Even though I wanted to scuttle away, retreat to safety faster than I could say Plane ticket to Florida, please, I needed to stick up for my friend. “You know it’s illegal to distribute drugs, right?”

  He laughed, his voice echoing through the quad. “Listen.” He narrowed his eyes at me, and his voice was a low growl. “She’s one of my best customers. If you want me to give up my extra spending money, there’d better be something in it for me. I think we can come up with something.” He stroked his hand down the side of my arm, and I fought back the bile that rose in my throat. “Especially when I bet my dad would love to hear who you’re related to.” He waggled his eyebrows, and a smug look crossed his face.

  Gross. If he thought I’d give sexual favors in exchange for silence, he obviously didn’t know me. What did I ever see in this guy? An hour under scalding water wouldn’t wipe away the film of his disgusting words.

  Not about you. Focus. I stood my ground, not allowing him to see how much his words shook me to the core.

  “You can take your proposition and stick it up your ass.”

  “Fine, but I bet your name will be at the top of the reject pile for early admission.”

  I took a deep breath, trying to remain calm and not bash him upside the head with my backpack. Idiot. Did he not get that I had dirt on him, too? I planted my hands on my hips. “Yeah, and I bet your dad would love to hear you’re a drug dealer. Stay away from Jules.”

  From the startled look that twisted his features, realization just kicked in. Dumbass.

  I walked off just in time to hear him call out, “Bitch.”

  Everyone around me had turned into something I hadn’t expected. First, Jules with the Adderall, and now Andrew being an asshat. I wasn’t even going to think about Blake. He had been a constant in my life for so long, but now he was interested in some nurse. And my dad? Life had turned on its head if he was the only person I wanted to talk to at this point.

  Anthro was the last place I wanted to go, but I made my way to Seus Hall for a review session. Dr. Greeves said she’d go over everything she planned to include on the final. Good. The less I had to read of that boring book, the better. After fifty minutes of torture, I finished my classes for the day. Dr. Hayes cancelled figure drawing because of jury duty, so I was free to start the weekend.

  I wasn’t ready to go home after class, though. I didn’t know how to face Jules after our awkward conversation last night. What if she was mad at me? What if she took more of the Adderall? Studying would help keep my mind off all the crap that plagued my friends’ lives. Stuff I wasn’t willing to deal with just yet.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Blake

  Payton started attending class again. She had been on a different floor in the hospital for our internship, and I never got a chance to talk to her. I needed to resolve this thing, whatever it was. I knew she still hated me for Andrew finding out about her dad, but I had it covered. Even if he had taunted her, I doubted he’d stoop to saying anything to his dad.

  Every time class ended for the day, I checked the library for her. So far, no luck, but Jules tipped me off about a Payton sighting on the sixth floor one day.

  Sure enough, when I roamed the sixth floor study tables, I found her in the corner. With green earbuds pushed in both ears, she bobbed her head and stared at her textbook, scribbling something down in a spiral. Her tongue peeked out between her lips—something she’d always done when concentrating. When we played basketball together, she’d stick her tongue out as she readied herself for a free-throw shot. So damn cute.

  I pulled out a chair and sat across from her. She yanked her earbuds from her ears and set her pen down.

  I needed to be cautious about this. She had that ready-to-run look—one that told me she’d leave all her books on the table in a heartbeat.

  “Hi.”

  “Hi.” She diverted her gaze to the ring on her middle finger and twisted it.

  “How have you been?” Talk about insanely awkward. It was easier to talk to her in eighth grade than this. My quickened pulse had my muscles shaking, and, for the first time in a long time, I couldn’t think of the right thing to say. I didn’t have the magic words to fix everything. We were just too broken.

  “Good.” She ran her thumb across the edge of the pages of her textbook, and it blew wadded-up gum wrappers across the table. She always was a gum addict, especially when stressed. I counted the wrappers. Nine. Either she had been here a really long time, or her stress level was through the roof. “You?”

  “Been better. Listen…” I caught her eye, making sure I had her attention, “I’m sorry for what happened with Andrew.”

  “Why did you tell him?” The hurt in her eyes made me feel like I’d just kicked someone’s puppy. How could I have been so stupid?

  “I fucked up. It was my twenty-oner, and he spouted off about getting in your pants. I couldn’t take it anymore.” I took a deep breath and looked up at her, her scrutinizing gaze shouting You’re the biggest schmuck ever. “I don’t remember what I said, but in the morning he asked me about your dad. I screwed up. I’m sorry.”

  “Did you really do Andrew’s chem homework?”

  I thumbed the edge of her spiral in the middle of the table. Jules had a big mouth. “Yeah.”

  Her features softened. Yes. Apology accepted. But the look quickly morphed into narrowed eyes and a scowl. Fuck. What now? “Did you have fun on your date with the nurse?”

  Was she high? “What are you talking about?” Did she mean Mindy? I hadn’t told anyone about her asking me on a date. The only person who could have said anything was Mindy, and I doubted she would tell Payton about that.

  “I saw you. She was flirting with you. She told you to call her.” She shifted in her chair, refusing to look at me, instead running her finger along the grooves of the table. Was she jealous? Really, she thought I wanted to date anyone but her?

  “I didn’t go on a date with her. Wait, were you spying on me?”

  Her cheeks and neck flushed. She mumbled, “I wasn’t spying. I came up there to talk to you.”

  “Then why didn’t you?” Why did I have such shitty luck when it came to Payton? All the forces lined up against us, making sure we never got together.

  “Because of Miss Flirty Nurse.” She said this a little too loud, and a few people from a study table across th
e way turned our direction. “Sorry,” she whispered.

  Unbelievable. The one time a girl openly hit on me would be the time Payton saw. “Things can never be easy for us, can they?”

  She scoffed and folded her arms over her chest. “I guess not.”

  “You are the only girl I think about. No one compares to you.” I smoothed my thumb over her cheek, and she closed her eyes, leaning into my touch. “Can we just forget these past two weeks ever happened? I want to go back to how we were.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Will you give me another chance? Let me prove to you I’m not a total screwup.”

  If she said no, I’d man up and start to move on. I’d have to—I couldn’t keep putting myself through the ringer.

  Looking up at me through her long lashes, she nodded. “Yes.”

  I did a mental Tebow celebration. I had one chance to make this right, and, this time, I wouldn’t fuck it up.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Payton

  “Can you believe they’re trying to put that poor man away for the rest of his life?” Mrs. Cripps pointed to the TV, the same newscaster giving his fake, toothy smile as he reported the countdown for Dad’s trial.

  Did she just use the words “poor man” and my father in the same sentence?

  “You don’t agree with the news?” Besides my friends, I hadn’t heard many people voice a positive opinion regarding my dad.

  “If that were an option in California, I wouldn’t be here, Nikki.”

  “Really?”

  She held up her morphine clicker. “I tried, but this stupid thing doesn’t give me crap.”

  True. It only administered a certain dosage every time the patient pressed it. And then her words hit me full force. They wanted to put him away for life? What if I never saw him again? He’d spend the rest of his life staring at his cell wall, and I wanted to send him a letter and fruit? What good would a stupid pineapple display do as he rotted in jail?