“I’m not sure yet, but we were out having dinner with the Davenports and the DeLunas when we got a call from Brian. He was hysterical. He had to call for an ambulance and Nolan was being taken to the ER. I tried calling you but it just went straight to voicemail.” My mom wraps her arms around me and leads me into the waiting room. Luka follows behind me.
“I don’t even know where my phone is,” I admit.
“Why is he here? In the psych ward?” I ask my mother hoping she knows.
“I don’t know mija,” she says.
Luka is standing by the window looking out. I interrupt his thoughts when I place my arms around him. He turns and I lean into his side, keeping my arms around him. My head is against his chest and I can hear his heartbeat. The sound of life, my favorite sound; it can beat a hundred times a minute, six thousand times an hour, one hundred forty-four thousand times a day, fifty two million five hundred and sixty thousand times a year, and then there can be silence. The sound of death, the worst sound, when there is no sound at all.
I hear Nolan’s mom’s voice. I open my eyes and see her tear streaked face. She takes a seat next to my mother, and Mr. DeLuna is rubbing her back, comforting her as she searches for words to let us know how Nolan is doing.
“Nolan is sleeping. They said he might sleep for a couple of days.” She pauses and tears escape her eyes rolling down faster than she can wipe them.
“His stomach was pumped, and he was able to drink some of the chalky water before he became unconscious. He will be evaluated when he wakes.” I breathe a sigh of relief as she says those last words, ‘when he wakes.’
“Why? What happened? Why is he even here? I need to see him now,” I demand. Everyone seems shocked by my tone. I need to understand how this could have happened. I need to visually see him and make sure he’s okay and breathing.
“He’s sleeping now, Lola, and the whys we still don’t know,” Mr. DeLuna says sternly.
“Go ahead Lola, he would like that,” Nolan’s mother says. I walk to the desk and ask to see Nolan.
“Please read the restrictions and sign here please,” she says, pointing to the restrictions posted on the door. I scan them and read the last one: ‘No sharp objects, which include razors and metal nail files.’ The sound of the door buzzes and I reach for the handle but before I can open it, Brian opens it for me.
“I’m coming with you,” he whispers. I nod and walk in.
The walls are bare and dull. It feels lifeless. The thought of Nolan wanting to take his life hurts me. How could I not know? Was I not there for him? Did he try to tell me? Did I not see the signs? Did I not listen? I take each step with a heavy heart. I’m scared of what I’ll see, of what he’s done, of what I didn’t do. I stand in front of the door, too afraid to open it. Brian places his hand in mine. We are in this together. I squeeze it and take a deep breath. I reach for the handle and slowly press it down to push the door open. There he lies in a hospital bed. I hear the beep of the heart monitor. I rush to him, sprawling my arms on him since I can’t wrap them around him, lying on him and feeling the warmth of his body, which brings me relief. I lie there for a bit as Brian has his hand on my back, trying to calm me.
“Did he tell you anything?” I ask Brian. I get up and sit in a chair next to the bed. I bring my knees to my chest and stare at Nolan.
“All he told me was that he wasn’t feeling well after we left your house. He wanted to go home and sleep off his pain,” he confesses.
“Pain?”
“Yeah, his neck was hurting him and he had a massive headache after the funeral. He thinks it might have been the weight of the casket and the way he fell asleep last night that worsened it,” he says.
“I didn’t know he was still in pain; why didn’t he say anything?” I’m feeling guilty that I didn’t notice. I was so busy dealing with my own pain that I didn’t see his.
“Lola, we just laid Abuela to rest. We were all so tired, emotionally drained, and exhausted from the days leading to her burial that he probably didn’t even realize how severe his pain was.” Brian runs his hands through his hair and lets out a breath.
“How did you find him?”
“He didn’t answer my calls. We were planning to grab a bite to eat; I just had to go home to shower. When he didn’t pick me up and my calls were left unanswered, I went to his house. There he was, lying on the bed talking nonsense. He was so disoriented that he hadn’t even gone to the restroom. He was covered in his own urine and I knew something was wrong. I know he’s gotten wasted before but this was different. He didn’t seem right.” He turns and looks out the window. I know Brian, and there is something he isn’t telling me.
“Tell me, what are you keeping from me, Brian?”
“He might have downed some of his pain pills with beer. There were three beer bottles on the night stand and his pills were left open next to the empty bottles.”
“What? Why would he do something so stupid?” I rest my chin on my knees, trying to figure all this out. There’s a knock at the door; it’s the nurse coming in to check on his vitals.
“Visiting hours will be over in 30 minutes,” she informs us.
“Do you know when he will wake up?” I ask the nurse.
“Hopefully by tomorrow but we can’t be certain.” She checks his IV bag and the wires connecting him to the heart monitor.
“Thirty minutes,” the nurse reminds us. She walks out and closes the door behind her. I stand and place a kiss on Nolan’s forehead.
“See you tomorrow,” I whisper. I want his parents to be able to come in before they leave for the night.
“I’ll be here tomorrow bro, so you better be awake,” Brian says and gives him a gentle bump on the shoulder with his fist. He places his hand on my back and leads me out into the dull bare hallway.
We walk out into the waiting room and his parents approach me, hoping I have good news to give them, but I don’t have anything news to share.
“Did he wake up?” his mother asks hopefully.
“No,” I tell her. There’s disappointment in her eyes. I can’t help but feel the guilt, for not being there for him, for not seeing his pain, for being so consumed with my own.
I’m startled by the sound of the alarm. I try to ignore it, but I can’t. I hit the button and lay on my back, trying to wake. My eyes are heavy and I am unable to open them. I’m so exhausted I can’t get up. I hear a light tap at the door. It opens, and the brightness of the hall light makes it even harder to open my eyes.
“School time, Lolita,” my father says in a singsong voice. Ugh. The sound of that phrase makes my stomach turn. Everyone at school is going to be asking questions and I don’t know if I want to answer them. I don’t even have the answers to my own questions.
I eventually manage to get out of bed. I take a quick shower and throw on my favorite lazy day clothes, a pullover sweater with my boyfriend sweatpants. My hair is in a messy bun; it’s effortless, easy, and quick since I don’t have to brush it. I head downstairs and smell the coffee and bacon. I want to walk into the kitchen and see Abuelita standing there. Before walking in, I take a seat on the bottom step. I miss her. I know she isn’t coming back, but a part of me wishes all this was just a dream. I stand and prepare myself for disappointment. I walk in and see my father there and my heart sinks because I know she will never be in this kitchen again no matter how much I wish it to be.
“Morning,” I say. I’m happy my parents are home.
“Morning. I know today isn’t your best day, but I thought I could add a smile to your day.” He places my breakfast on the counter: it’s two over easy eggs and two slices of bacon forming a smiling face.
“Thanks Dad.” I smile at him. I eat my breakfast and I’m surprised I finish everything on my plate. Either I was really hungry, or I didn’t want to disappoint him. Probably both.
I walk out and look up surprised when I see Luka leaning against his car. I walk slowly to him and he places a kiss on my lips.
“Thank you, that’s so thoughtful,” I say sincerely.
“I know, and you are so welcome.” He smirks and takes my backpack.
The hours fly by, and before I know it, school is over, and Luka drives me to the hospital. The whole ride there I am praying that Nolan is awake. I want to talk to him about yesterday. I know I can’t be there long; I have dance practice and Dion said it’s mandatory.
The elevator doors open to the sixth floor. I walk up to the reception area and ask if Nolan is awake. The nurse makes me sign in then buzzes me through. I turn and look for Luka but he’s in the waiting area.
“Are you coming?” I ask him.
“No, I think you two should talk alone.” I agree. The nurse buzzes me in again and I walk toward his room. I knock lightly on the door before walking in. Nolan is sitting up watching TV.
“Hey you, you’re awake?” I ask, even though I’m looking right at him.
“Yeah, thank God,” he says.
“Feeling ok?” I want to cut to the chase and get right to it, but I don’t want to be rude.
“I’m good, a little drowsy, but the nurse doesn’t want me sleeping so I’ve been here watching movies and reading.”
“Nolan, what the hell were you thinking?” I can no longer beat around the bush. I have questions that he better have answers to.
“Lola, I don’t think I was. I just wanted the pain to go away so when I got home, I took some of my pills and took a shower. When that didn’t work, I took the pills that I got from Luka. It just seemed easy to down them with beer to help my muscles relax. After what seemed like forever and my pain was still there, I must have taken the entire bottle, not caring about what might happen. I just wanted to get rid of the pain.” I can feel my blood boiling.
“What do you mean the pills you got from Luka?” I’m trying to contain my anger, but Luka never mentioned he gave Nolan anything.
“The Vicodin wasn’t working, so he gave me some of his OxyContin.” He knows I’m angry, he sees it in me. “Lola, it’s not his fault. I begged him to help me out. The pain in my neck and the headaches were so severe I just needed something to take the edge off, just until the season was over.”
“The season has been over.” I don’t give him a chance to explain. I rush out of the room and right into the waiting room. Luka turns to face me. He’s smiling, but his expression changes when he sees my face. He walks up to me, but I take a step back.
“Lola?” I can’t, I just can’t. I run out of there, right into the open elevator doors.
“Lola!” I hear him yell right as the elevator door closes. A gentleman with pink balloons is staring at me. I look down and realize the elevator is going up instead of down. The elevator doors open and he steps out, looking back at me like I’m a crazy person. I might look like one after all; I did just step off the psych ward. I hit the lobby button and the elevator doors close. The elevator stops on the sixth floor again and the doors open to Luka standing there. He rushes in and I try to move back but I can’t.
“Lola, please talk to me?” His words feel like they just slapped me across my face and I see red.
“Mother fucker, stay away from me you piece of shit! I lost everything because of you and now my best friend almost died because of you! If only I had been there instead of with you when my grandmother needed me, maybe she would still be here. And if I wasn’t so preoccupied with you, then maybe Nolan wouldn’t be here!” The doors open and I run out into the parking lot. I walk in the opposite direction of his car. I don’t know where I am going or how I will get home, but what I do know is that I can’t walk back to him.
I can’t even look at her; her words are like a knife stabbing through my heart. Fuck! I can’t leave her, as much as she wants me to leave her alone, I can’t. God, I want to go back up to the sixth floor and yell at Nolan. What the hell was he thinking, telling Lola that I supplied the OxyContin? I just gave him a few pills.
“Lola, come back. Let me drive you home. Please just get in the car,” I say as I walk after her. She looks like she is about to run. If she does, I will chase her; I will always chase her.
“Leave me the fuck alone!” she yells over her shoulder, walking faster.
“Look, we don’t have to talk. I’ll just drive you home and leave,” I argue with her. I know she is hurt and confused, right now. She will not listen to anything I have to say while the anger is coursing through her body, but I can’t let her walk home, it’s like fifteen miles. “If you don’t want to ride with me that’s fine. Let’s go back to the waiting area and you can call Brian to take you home, baseball practice should be over soon.”
“I don’t need you to tell me what to do. Besides, I’d rather want to walk home than be in the same place as you.”
“Lola, come back here and get in the motherfucking car. Now!” I yell. She can really test my patience. I see her stop; good thing I was not that close behind because if I was I would have slammed into her.
As she turns, I can see her face is red with anger. “Don’t. You. Ever. Yell. At. Me,” she says through clenched teeth.
“Well stop acting like a spoiled princess and get in the car, or I’ll make you,” I threaten.
“I’d like to see you try.”
I move closer and faster than she can blink and throw her over my shoulder, tightening my arm around her legs.
“Besides being a drug pusher, you are a big bully, Luka. Put me down!”
“Lola, don’t say words you can’t take back.” I start walking back toward the parking lot, Lola hitting my back all the way there. I take out my keys and open the car.
“I hate you Luka!” she continues to yell. I spank her ass before I set her down. Before she says or does anything, I open the door and push her inside. I lock the doors and run to the driver side. I unlock my door and get in.
Lola is seating in the back seat. Typical, sulking like a child.
“Kidnapping is a felony, punishable with years of jail time in all fifty states,” she says as I start the car and pull out of the parking lot.
“So is murder, so don’t push me, Lola.” We drive in silence. I can feel her seething in the back seat.
“Are you done being a child so we can talk like adults?” I look at her in the rearview mirror and see her stick out her tongue at me. “Very mature.” Turning on the radio, “Perfect Distraction” by Mayberry comes on. Hector gave me their demo at school the other day.
Lola leans over the middle console and turns it off. “Now you hate my music too?”
“Your music? You hadn’t heard them until the party, so technically it is me not wanting you to hear my music. I don’t want you to tarnish some of their best songs with your sliminess,” she says as she continues to sulk in the back.
“Look Lola, I know you are mad, but I just want you to hear what I have to say. Can we talk, rationally?” I ask. I need her to understand that I didn’t mean for anything to happen with Nolan. I warned him about how many to take. He knew not to mix them with anything besides water.
“Talk. It’s a free country, but that doesn’t mean that I will listen.”
“Lola,” I warn.
“Fine, talk you big bully.”
“Lola, I’m sorry Nolan mixed the medications. Yes, I did give him the pills that I had left over after my last motocross accident, but I warned him about how many to take and about not mixing them with other medications and especially no alcohol. Believe me when I tell you that I would never do anything to hurt him or Brian. I know if I did, it would be like I was hurting you too, and I would never do anything to hurt you or make you cry, Lola.” I totally sound like a pussy, but what can I say? Some girls are worth it.
“All I know is that Nolan is in the hospital, due in part to some drugs you gave him. I just don’t know what to feel right now. Abuela just died, and now Nolan is hospitalized,
and it all comes back to you monopolizing all of my time. I got so sucked in our relationship that I excluded everyone around me. I didn’t even know that Nolan’s pain was so bad that he had to ask for something stronger. Then with auditions coming up, I got wrapped that in that. I don’t want to miss anything more.” A single tear runs down her cheek. I park in her driveway, undo my seatbelt, and turn to her.
“What are you saying Lola?” I ask. She can’t be breaking up with me. I have fallen for this girl.
“I think that we should get some space for now. Let’s wait for Nolan to get better and for me to finish with the live audition, and then we can give this a go again.” She doesn’t meet my eyes.
“No. I can’t believe that you are even thinking that. Everything that has happened has been out of our control,” I say, shaking my head. It’s beyond my comprehension as to why she would suggest something like stopping seeing each other; I just don’t know how it will fix things.
“Luka.” She climbs over the center to sit in the front seat. Taking my hands, she continues. “The feelings I have for you are stronger than what I have ever felt. It makes me see things better, the sun is brighter, the wind fresher. Everything around me amplifies when I am around you, even the feelings I feel. I feel sadder and more hurt when I’m with you. Maybe it’s guilt that even while everything around me is falling apart, I still feel joy because I have you.”
“Guilt for loving me?” I ask. I need to understand before I make her understand that pushing me away will not make the guilt go away.
“Yes,” she whispers, squeezing my fingers.
“Lola, I feel the same way. I know that guilt you feel is present now because of all the emotions going through you, but I know that once you think about this you will change your mind.” I put my hand on her cheek and she leans into my hand. “You have to because I love you.”
“Luka…”
“No. Go to your appointment with Dion and then I’ll see you later, ok?”
“Okay.” She turns to leave but I stop her, bringing her face closer. I place my lips over hers. It only takes her a second to respond. Invading her mouth, I pour out all my love for her, hoping maybe that will give her the strength she needs to figure everything out. It is hard for me to stop kissing her, but I have to; she can’t be late to practice and neither can I. Uncle Jack is riding my ass and I have qualification meets next month, too.
Dirty Chaos Page 14
