SUSY Asylum

by Michael Pierce

  When I got home, I collapsed into my computer chair, completely drained.

  The gargoyle picture Desiree had drawn for me on my first day of school was still tacked up on the wall, above my desk. I took it down, grabbed a pen, and jumped on my bed. Desiree had added to the picture the last time she was in my room, extending a stone roof for the creature to be perched upon. I drew a full moon bursting through clouds in the upper left-hand corner of the page.

  The gargoyle didn’t belong on my wall. I retrieved TJ’s notebook and taped Desiree’s drawing to the cover. I drew more clouds across the page until they spilled onto the cover of the notebook. It was fitting to know what good friends they were. Now we all were truly connected.

  I turned to the page in which I’d left off. I knew I had promised Desiree I wouldn’t read any more from the journal, but I needed answers. I needed to get a better understanding of why she was acting so strange. Blaine knew why when he’d stopped me a week ago, but he didn’t want to elaborate too much. And the answers were right here, waiting patiently on the page. TJ wanted me to know; I could feel it. And if Desiree someday found out, then she would understand. I wasn’t just curious. I cared about her too much to be left in the dark. How could I help if I didn’t even know what was going on?

  TJ & Desiree (B)

  The lobby of the Marriott was already buzzing with high school couples when TJ and Desiree arrived. They had driven with Blaine and his girlfriend, Jillian. Blaine had supposedly gotten them hooked up with a room and fully stocked mini-fridge. And now they would find out if their money was well spent.

  “I can’t believe we’re here,” Desiree said, looking around at all the suits and dresses. “I still can’t believe you got me in.”

  “Todd’s a master of student IDs. It’s gonna be an awesome night,” TJ said, taking her hand as they moved through the lobby and down a wide hallway.

  “You look so beautiful,” Jillian said to Desiree.

  “Thank you. So do you. I’ve never gotten so dressed up before. It keeps feeling like my dress is falling ’cause I don’t have the boobs to hold it up.” Desiree tugged at the bust of her violet strapless dress.

  “You’ll be fine.”

  “It’s right down here.” Blaine led the way until they found the end of the line for the ballroom.

  “My feet hurt already but I don’t care! I’m gonna dance all night!” Desiree said.

  TJ shook his head and looked down at her thin, strappy high heels, then up her calves to the hem of her dress. The trouble of setting up tonight would definitely be worth it. Even working through the dancing.

  The line moved fast and it wasn’t long until they made it to the entrance of the ballroom. They showed their newly created upperclassmen IDs, had their names crossed off the printed list, and received their wristbands. TJ gave a soft sigh of relief at their first victory of the evening. Things were going as planned.

  Just as Desiree was about to step up to security, Blaine said, “Let’s check out the room before going in.”

  “Good thinking,” TJ said and pulled Desiree back.

  “The room?” Desiree asked.

  “Yeah, so we can get away when we’re tired of dancing,” TJ said with a warm smile.

  “Everyone’s getting rooms. It’s all part of the experience,” Blaine said.

  “It’ll be fun,” Jillian said.

  Desiree bit her lip but came along without verbally protesting. TJ gave her a sidelong glance while walking to the elevator. Her makeup couldn’t hide that her face had gone pale. Her eyes were wide and darted around at everyone walking by.

  “You know I have to be home by midnight, right?” she asked softly.

  “I know. It’s just a place we can relax and crash between dancing. We’re all sharing the room. Don’t worry. We’ll have a great night and I’ll get you home on time. Trust me.”

  They went up to the seventh floor and found their room at the end of the hallway next to the stairwell. Blaine took out an electronic room key from his suit coat pocket. He slid it into the key reader and got a red light.

  “Oh, come on!” Blaine complained. He slid the key through the reader again, slower this time, and received a green light. “Thank God. Ladies and gentlemen, we’re in!” He pushed in the door and held it open for the rest of the group. Jillian gave him a kiss on her way in.

  “Now we’ll see if tonight’s gonna be a homerun or just a second-base hit,” Blaine said and went straight for the mini-fridge. TJ was right behind him. The girls sat down on separate beds.

  Blaine opened the fridge and found it stocked full with miniature bottles of alcohol and bottles of several beer varieties. “Score! Thank you, Todd!”

  “How did you get all that?” Desiree asked.

  “Is he the man or what?”

  “Well worth the money,” TJ said.

  “Do we have anything to drink that with?” Jillian asked, kicking off her heels and scooting further onto the bed.

  “I’ll be right back with ice and mixers,” Blaine said and shot out of the room.

  TJ took a seat next to Desiree. Her legs were crossed and she kicked her foot like a ticking time bomb. He laid a sweaty hand on her knee, hoping to ease her nerves. He was out of his comfort zone as much as she was. But he already knew that a few drinks would take the edge off, loosen everyone up, and lead to a fun, carefree night.

  “I’ll mix you something delicious,” he said.

  She nodded, but didn’t say a word.

  Blaine barged back into the room with an overflowing bucket of ice and three bottles of Coke. He played bartender and mixed everyone a drink—each drink with its own mini bottle of whiskey or rum.

  Once everyone had their glasses in hand, Blaine raised his and said, “Here’s to the best goddamn night of our lives. Cheers to prom. Cheers to good drinks. Cheers to us.” To which they all clinked glasses and drank.

  TJ & Desiree (C)

  TJ picked up Desiree from off the crowded dance floor. She wobbled and leaned into him, mostly for support, which he was barely able to provide at this point.

  “I’m okay,” she said, throwing her arms around his neck.

  “That’s good, ’cause I don’t think I can carry you outta here.” TJ felt his head spinning, but it was the best kind of spinning, like the rides at the church carnival when he was a kid. The rides that made his parents nauseous, but left him feeling exhilarated.

  It had been an hour or so since they had last been to the room, and he felt like he was overdue for another drink. He knew he needed to keep his buzz going to avoid crashing. Desiree was a blast to have hanging off him. He couldn’t seem to look away from her glistening emerald eyes.

  “Have you seen Jillian? I need to freshen up,” Desiree said, trying to get a steady foothold.

  “I haven’t seen either of them in awhile. Maybe they went back up to the room. Wanna go? I could use a refill anyway.”

  “And I could use our bathroom!”

  “Yes!”

  TJ led Desiree off the dance floor, both of them trying their best to choke back laughter while inconspicuously passing by security and the adult volunteers. They emerged in the hallway panting and sweaty, stumbling and slurring, and hoping they were headed in the direction of the elevators.

  They were relieved to get an elevator to themselves and kissed all the way to the eighth floor. After remembering that their room was on the floor below, they stumbled back down the hallway and kissed their way to the seventh floor.

  TJ searched his pockets for the key, and Desiree slid down the wall like all the muscles in her body had instantly gone to sleep. She was soon sprawled out, spread-eagle on the floor.

  “I must have left my key in the room,” TJ said and began banging on the door with the side of his fist. “Blaine? Jillian? You in there?”

  The door opened moments later.

  “I hope we’re not interrupting,” TJ said.

  “Never. We’re all friends here,” Blaine said.
r />   Desiree jumped up and pushed past TJ. “Yeah we are. And right now this girl’s gotta pee!”

  TJ went straight for the mini-fridge. “We’ve almost emptied the whole thing.”

  “We’ve got full drinks. There should be enough for a few more concoctions,” Blaine said, returning to Jillian.

  She was lying on her stomach across the bed, taking sips from her drink and then resting it on the floor.

  TJ had a drink waiting for Desiree by the time she emerged from the bathroom. She took it and plopped herself down on the empty bed.

  “Can you help me with my shoes?” she asked innocently, lifting one leg and then the other. TJ knelt down, undid the straps and slid them off her raw feet. “F.Y.I., I may not be able to get them back on.”

  “We’ll worry about that later.”

  “Cheers, guys,” Jillian exclaimed, sliding her body around so she was facing Desiree on the other bed. “Wait—where’s my drink?”

  Blaine picked it up from off the floor, sat beside her, and gently rubbed her bare back. She laid her head against his leg.

  “I don’t think I can dance anymore,” Jillian said.

  “I don’t think I can even get up,” Desiree said, swaying in her seated position. She set her drink on the nightstand and curled up with a pillow.

  TJ, Blaine, and Jillian finished their drinks and refreshed their glasses by emptying out the mini-fridge. While the three downed another round of drinks, Desiree remained curled up on the bed, continuously hiking up the bust of her dress.

  “I think this is the most comfortable bed I’ve ever slept on,” Desiree said, and everyone laughed.

  After the final drinks, Blaine got up. “I think we’re gonna get going. You coming?”

  “Are you ready to go?” TJ asked, placing a hand on Desiree’s leg.

  “I just wanna lie here a little while longer.” She clumsily bounced to her other side.

  “I guess we’ll stay,” TJ said.

  “That’s cool. Later, guys.” Blaine picked up Jillian’s high heels and left with her on his arm.

  TJ looked over at the alarm clock on the nightstand. It was only about 11:30 p.m. The night was still young. He lay down facing his drowsy girlfriend. There was no place in the world he’d rather be. The most beautiful girl with the piercing green eyes was lying across from him, touching his arm, leaning in to kiss him. TJ realized that he was still wearing his shoes and suit coat. He yanked them off like they were on fire and continued with his tie and dress shirt. Then he was back lying with her.

  “You look comfortable,” Desiree said.

  “I am comfortable.”

  “Me, too.”

  TJ ran his hand down her silky leg, all the way down to her bare foot, and then pulled her leg up and around his. As her skirt fell back, he could see the purple lacey side of her panties. He slowly slid his hand up to feel them, tracing the line where they touched her skin with his finger. She wasn’t stopping him this time. She released a soft moan. Then her lips were on his again, but not like before. She pulled him into her like it was the end of the world and there would be no tomorrow.

  13

  Spilling Tea

  Every lie I told or omission I held onto for her, Desiree subsequently sabotaged. At the end of history class, even before the classroom had emptied, Desiree marched up to Mr. Gordon’s desk and demanded his attention.

  “I don’t know what Oliver’s told you,” she said. “But I was with him. I know about Provex City. I was with him each time—it was only a few times—but if you didn’t, I just thought you should know.”

  I was still packing up my bag when I heard the mention of Provex City, though it didn’t seem to catch the attention of other students exiting the classroom. And I saw Mr. Gordon’s disapproving glare while she was still talking.

  He waved me over. I made my way around the few remaining students and stood next to Desiree.

  “So I suppose we have a lot to talk about,” Mr. Gordon said, keeping an eye on the last of the exiting students. “What do you have to say for yourself, Oliver?”

  “I thought I was protecting her,” I said. “That’s all.”

  “By lying to me,” Mr. Gordon said. “How can I do my job, if you’re not straight with me?”

  “And what’s your job?” Desiree asked.

  “To keep you both safe. Originally, it was to keep Oliver and his family safe, but now with the depth of your involvement, my duties have expanded—which I fully take responsibility for.”

  “I didn’t ask for that,” Desiree said.

  Mr. Gordon sighed and dropped heavily onto his desk chair. He placed his horn-rimmed glasses on his desk and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Miss Behring, you don’t sound like you want to be here anymore. Why don’t you walk away? Why don’t you forget about all of this and go back to your life—your peaceful life before. I can help you do that, if you wish.”

  “My life was anything but peaceful before,” Desiree said. “Sometimes it would be easier to forget, but I can’t.”

  “I can help you forget.”

  “What do you mean?” Desiree asked, cocking her head slightly.

  “Yeah, what are you getting at?” I asked.

  “If she’s not really in this, then she doesn’t have to be. She doesn’t have to be burdened with all of this.”

  “Like me? Like how I was burdened as a boy? Are you going to make her conveniently forget like my mother did to me when I was five?” I stepped closer to his desk.

  “Your mother did the right thing, Oliver. I was there. I would have made the same decision if you were my son.”

  “But I’m not your son!”

  “And now we have the chance to help your friend here involved in this terrible mess.” Then Mr. Gordon stopped cold, like he just heard what I’d said. “Yes, Oliver, I realize you’re not my son…and I’ve never tried to replace your father. I’m just trying to protect you like your father asked of me. I want to protect you too, Miss Behring.” He put his glasses back on and swiveled his chair toward the door.

  “I don’t want out,” Desiree finally said.

  Mr. Gordon looked back at us and I couldn’t read what he was thinking. He ran his hand through his hair, and then leaned forward on his desk. “Fair enough. If you’re sure—one hundred percent sure—I’ll respect your decision. I think you two complement each other well. It’s good to have support in stressful times, and I know this sure as hell ain’t easy.”

  “Mr. Gordon, are you starting to break down your normal formality?” Desiree said with a sly smirk.

  “I guess I’m just rather fond of you guys—I’m dropping my teacher act. I was never really good at it anyways.”

  “Are you kidding? You’re like the best teacher I’ve ever had,” I said, not comfortable with this lack of confidence coming from Mr. Gordon all of a sudden.

  “I have to agree,” Desiree said.

  Mr. Gordon smiled. “It’s nice to see you two agreeing again.”

  Desiree and I gave each other an awkward look, which lasted no longer than three seconds, and then our gazes were focused on anything else in the room. I glanced back at her, but by that time she was focused back on Mr. Gordon.

  “You two need to get to class,” he said.

  “It’s just art,” Desiree said, which gave me total déjà vu.

  Mr. Gordon got it, too, and laughed. “Just art or not, I can’t be the one keeping you from someone else’s class. When you’re ready to talk and continue, I’ll be here.”

  “How about after school today?” I asked.

  “No use in wasting time,” Mr. Gordon said. “How about you, Miss. Behring?”

  Desiree glanced at me. “I guess this afternoon works for me.”

  “Don’t guess. Be sure,” I said.

  I’d been waiting to throw that back in her face. She got it because she gave me the Medusa look of death. Mr. Gordon didn’t get the reference but looked amused nonetheless.

  Mr. Gordon wrot
e an address on a scrap of paper and handed it to me.

  “That’s my address,” he said. “We’ll meet there.”

  We agreed to reconvene at his house after school and headed for art. We walked together, but didn’t say a word. Desiree continued to sit across the table from me. I was stuck sitting next to Sara, which wasn’t a bad thing; it just wasn’t Desiree.

  “It’s always just been Oliver. Now it’s the both of you,” Sara said in the middle of painting her canvas.

  “Mr. Gordon asked the both of us to stay after,” Desiree said.

  “Well, aren’t you both the troublemakers,” Blaine said, causing an eruption of laughter.

  Desiree seemed to be trying to tune the rest of us out. She had her artwork out and in progress before I fully settled into my seat.

  I added shading to the From a Basement on the Hill cover I was re-creating in pencil. After staring at my sketch awhile, I began adding brick until I reached each edge of the page.

  “That looks pretty cool,” Andy said, looking up from his work.

  Desiree looked over, swirling her paintbrush in the Styrofoam cup half full of milky water. “I always liked that cover the best.”

  “I’m glad you like it,” I said, thrilled she was starting to talk to me again.

  “What is it?” Sara asked.

  “An Elliott Smith…” Desiree and I began talking at the same time and abruptly stopped.

  I signaled for her to finish.

  “An Elliott Smith cover.”

  “I should have known,” Blaine said.

  Desiree dabbed her brush on a folded paper towel and went back to her painting. Every time I felt her eyes looking across the table at me, I looked up and she had her eyes down, immersed in her project. I continually went back to my sketch, but found myself less and less inspired as the clock ticked closer to the end of the school day—closer to talking more with Mr. Gordon.