TinderElla:

by Eddie Cleveland

  “Where are you going?” He tilts his head at me.

  “Uh, I just need to use the toilet,” I lie, hoping he buys it.

  “Ahh, ok. Well, you can do that in a bit. First, you need to follow me,” he insists.

  I look back up, but the girl is gone. I don’t see her anywhere in the crowd. She disappeared.

  “Ok, what’s up?” I follow John into one of the offices lining the wall. It’s instantly quieter as he closes the door.

  “As you probably know, Edgewood is a renowned facility. We have a program that specializes in addictions faced by men and women in uniform.” He spouts off his talking points.

  Ah, well that explains why I’m in Canada then.

  “The program is difficult, but if you don’t give up, we have an eighty percent success rate.” He continues.

  “That’s pretty good,” my mind flashes back to the plaque on the wall as I came in. Seems to contradict what he’s telling me, but the truth is, I don’t care. I can barely concentrate on what this guy is going on about. My mind is still wrapped up in her.

  Where did she go?

  “But before we get into any of that, we need to take the standard precautions to make sure you're not smuggling any drugs or paraphernalia into the facility,” he continues.

  “Yeah, well, you’ve already got my bags.” I answer distractedly.

  “Yes, that’s part of it. However, there’s another part. You’re gonna need to strip down and shake out your clothes for me.”

  “What?” I level him with my stare, my focus suddenly sharpening to him and him alone. “Are you saying…”

  “Before we can proceed, there’s a strip search,” he states matter-of-factly.

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously,” he answers.

  So much for checking into my luxury spa. More like being processed for prison. This shit just got real.

  7|Holly

  “Holly, you’ve been quiet for the past couple of days. I know you’re still new to all of this, but why don’t you tell the group about yourself?” My group therapy counselor, Gavin, prods me. He sits tall in his chair at one end of the circle, his hair gelled into a spiky hedgehog style that was popular when I was in junior high. His mournful brown eyes pierce mine.

  “Uh, sure, I guess,” I stare at my hands. I can’t bring myself to look into the faces of the strangers surrounding me. Six people from all walks of life sit around me. Since I checked in two days ago, I’ve heard them talk about their lives, their careers, their children, their dreams. Intensely personal details have spilled out of them, like they’ve known these people all their lives. Like we’ve all grown up together. Not like we’re the complete and total random strangers tossed together in a salad of sadness and sickness.

  I clear my throat as my mind goes blank. What does he want me to say?

  “Do you mean tell you how I got started with drugs?” I peer over at Gavin and his thin sweeping of chin whiskers quiver as he presses his lips together.

  “No, we’ll get into all that. Right now, I would just like it if you introduced yourself to the group. Tell us who you are. A little bit about yourself,” Gavin’s eyes are warm, even if his tone is a bit clinical. He looks down at the pad of paper he’s holding on a clipboard in his lap and makes a few notes.

  A bit about myself? What is there to tell? A whirlwind of memories flash through my mind, but every single one of them involves Knox and cocaine. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to concentrate on the question. It shouldn’t be this hard. I should be able to tell people something. Anything.

  Heat flushes over my cheeks as I blush, I open my eyes and try not to let the shame radiating through me turn to tears. “I don’t know,” I whisper. “I don’t know who I am.”

  Gavin nods sadly and makes another note. The door to the office swings open and, lucky for me, all eyes in the room turn to see why. I watch as the guy I saw earlier today saunters inside and nonchalantly slumps down in an empty seat across the circle from me.

  My heartbeat quickens as his deep blue eyes meet mine. He locks me in his gaze, and I feel like I’m struggling to keep my feet under me in a hurricane. I can feel the electricity crackle in the air between us, holding me prisoner of his stare. I press my thighs together tightly and my breathing grows raspy and erratic. I’ve never had such a visceral reaction to a man before. Not even to Knox.

  Gavin clears his throat, ignoring our newest group member entirely. The same way he did to me two days ago when I was thrown into this jumbled mess of addicts. “You were saying, Holly?” His voice cuts through the fog and pulls me back into the therapy session.

  Somehow, I manage to drag my eyes from the newcomer and back to my counselor. “What? Oh, yeah. I guess I was trying to say that I’m not sure how to tell you a bit about myself because it’s been awhile since I’ve been more than, well, you know… an addict.” I admit.

  I look back over to the new guy; he’s watching me closely. I’m sure every person in this room is, but his are the only eyes I feel on me. Like they’re marking my skin. His brown beard is well kept, but the same can’t be said for his shaggy hair. I force myself to focus on Gavin instead. No matter how difficult it is.

  “It’s been a long time since I’ve done anything other than be a drug smuggler’s girlfriend. For the last five years, my whole life has centered on coke,” I continue. “Selling it, using it, buying it. Everything has been focused on drugs.” I answer truthfully.

  Gavin makes another note and scratches the side of his head with his pen. “Ok, but what about hobbies? Or friends? Family?” He grasps at straws as I shake my head no at each suggestion.

  “I left my family when I was seventeen and never looked back. I didn’t really have a good idea of who I was when I ran away, just who I didn’t want to be seen as anymore.” My voice creaks, warning me of tears to come. “I don’t know, ok?” I push away the sadness with a burst of anger. “I don’t know what you’re looking for. I’ve told you who I am, can we move on now?” My eyes flicker back to the new guy. His pale pink lips are cocked into a half smile as he shamelessly scans his eyes over my body.

  That look, that arrogance, it reminds me of…

  Knox’s face flashes before my eyes. The smirk that would possess his face when he’d wrap a belt around his hand, relishing what he was about to do to me.

  I push the image from my head, but the anger inside me boils up. “What about him?” I point across the circle at the mystery man who joined us. “Why don’t you get him to introduce himself instead of sitting there smiling like an idiot.”

  “Hey,” Gavin’s voice is so soft, it’s almost a whisper, “I know you’re new, but that’s not how we do things. Besides, I’d appreciate it if you let me run my own group,” he scolds me. “What you’re doing is deflecting right now, Holly.”

  “Hey man, I don’t mind,” the gorgeous stranger sitting across from me finally speaks. My heart flutters at his deep voice.

  “It’s not necessary,” Gavin holds up his hand. “We like to give new patients a few days to acclimate before they jump in. Today is Holly’s day,” he tries to redirect the focus.

  “No, man, it’s fine. Hi everyone, I’m Jake.” He steamrolls over Gavin’s attempts to take charge. “I was told not to give you my last name in here. That’s kind of weird for me since I’ve been in the military since I was a teenager and I’ve been going by my last name only, since then.” He chuckles and throws his arms over the back of his seat, leaning back comfortably. I’m happy that I don’t have to fight the urge to watch him anymore. Since he’s taken command of the room my eyes are just one of many sets on him.

  Gavin writes furiously on his sheets as Jake continues, “Anyway, I’m just doing my time. I don’t really need to be here, well not like you guys do,” he nods at me and my cheeks burn. “I need to do a stint to keep my job, so if this is what I gotta do to stay with the SEALs then, so be it.”

  He’s a SEAL? I glance at his shaggy hair and his beard
again. The scruff perfectly lines his strong jaw and his sandy brown hair hangs around his face like a frame for his ocean blue eyes. He doesn’t look military. His slightly amused look stokes the flames of my anger.

  “Oh, you don’t have to be here, huh?” I spit the words at him. I could smack his high and mighty look off his perfect face. “I guess the military sent you here for research then? Or just for fun?” My fists ball up at my sides.

  “No, I’m here for coke.” He says slowly, like he’s a professor to an obtuse student. “Cocaine is addictive. If you do it enough you’ll get addicted no matter what. That doesn’t make you an addict, it makes the substance itself impossible to not get addicted to. It’s not like you. I was just partying.” His eyes never break from mine. I can’t decide if I want them to or not.

  “Oh wow, that’s so cool how you’re the only non-addict in a rehab center. It must feel great to be so high above all of us,” I snap back. I know this isn’t entirely fair. I don’t really know this guy. He doesn’t know me. After spending five years being told that I’m nothing, being told how much better Knox is and always will be than me, I can’t take one more second of being looked down on. Especially not by some big, hot guy who thinks he’s king shit.

  “Excuse me,” Gavin interrupts, clearly exasperated. “I already said that we’ll get to you another day,” he frowns at Jake. “This is Holly’s time, so if you wouldn’t mind…”

  “I’m not saying that. I’m just saying we’re different, that’s all.” Jake completely ignores our counselor, never taking his eyes off me. “I’m not like you. I spent my time fighting for our country with other guys and when we had downtime, we lived it up. That’s it. I didn’t come from some broken home or whatever. My parents loved me and all that shit.” His words sucker punch me.

  I struggle to breathe as I jump to my feet. I left my parents’ house because I ruined their lives. My mother never forgave me for the day my sister died. Even when I left for this place, she couldn’t look me in the eyes when she coldly said goodbye. I left her house when I was seventeen, but I haven’t felt her love for a lot longer than that.

  “Go fuck yourself, douche,” I storm across the room and fling the office door open, slamming it behind me.

  Hot tears splash down my cheeks as I stumble down the hallway. Fuck that guy. Fuck him with his arrogant smirk and his beautiful eyes. I try to douse the flames of desire he so quickly ignited in me. I’m so glad he’s had a great life and a great family. That he’s not broken and pathetic.

  Like me.

  8|Jake

  Standing in the front hallway, like a herd of cattle waiting for the gates to the field to be unlocked, I wait with the other patients. Apparently, after lunch we have a daily walk for an hour. What I find weird is that none of the counselors have bothered to let me know about the schedule. I wasn’t given a pamphlet with timings on it. Instead, I’ve had to glean the information from other patients.

  At lunch, I scanned the cafeteria for Holly, but I didn’t see her. Instead, I was invited to sit at the table with some very chatty Canadians while we ate our choice of either lasagna or burritos and rice.

  “Ya, buddy. It’s a bit confusing around here at first,” a ginger guy with the thickest glasses I’ve ever seen and a heavy, almost Boston sounding accent nattered away. “But you get used to it in no time. Once you learn the routine, it’s like Groundhog Day in here.” He scarfed his burrito and talked around the mushed beans as he chewed. “I’ve heard that you guys deal better with that though.”

  “You guys?” I looked up from my plate of meaty lasagna to question him.

  “You military types. There’s a lot of you in here. They say you’re so used to doing routines and following orders that it’s not too hard on you. Give it a day and you’ll be a pro.” He tossed the remaining burrito in his mouth and I looked around.

  How many military people are there? I looked around the cafeteria wondering. With everyone dressed in civvies, it wasn’t easy to see. Not until I started looking closer. Haircuts, posture, demeanor. They all helped me zone in on others who are serving their country.

  Despite how intensely I looked through the crowd, there was one face I wanted to see that was missing. Holly.

  The door buzzes and everyone shuffles through to the fresh air awaiting us outside. I smile up at the sun, breathing the clean West Coast air deep into my lungs. I stretch my arms in wide circles and shake out the tension. What a great day for a run.

  I start to jog up the path leading through the thick cedars when a woman calls out behind me. I barely catch my name and stop.

  Is it her?

  My eyes focus like a red laser locking in on a target for the mystery person yelling my name. God damn. I would love to make her sweet lips call out my name. Cry it loudly as I make her cum over and over.

  Disappointment crashes over me as my focus narrows to a hunched over, silver-haired woman who could be my grandmother. “Jake,” she smiles at me.

  “Uh, yeah?” How does she know my name? Who is this lady?

  “I’m in your group session. You made quite the entrance this morning,” she chuckles.

  “Oh, hi. I didn’t catch your name,” I prod her as I slowly walk beside her.

  “It’s Mabel,” she answers warmly. “I just wanted to tell you that we’re not allowed to jog or run during the walk time. Not that I could even if I wanted to,” she chuckles again and limps forward.

  “We can’t run? Why?” Annoyance prickles over my skin and I rub my hand over my beard.

  “A lot of people use exercise to get a bit of an endorphin rush, a little mini-high. In here, people get desperate to feel good again. Plus, walking makes you think more. It’s more reflective. Anyway,” she smiles at my scowl, “I don’t make the rules, I just follow them. You can do what you want, but if you use this time to run you’ll hear the same spiel from a counselor later.” She warns gently.

  This is fucking ridiculous. Get high from running. Seriously? What’s next? No sugar because you might feel a rush? Instead of snapping at granny, I bite my tongue and smile back politely. Don’t shoot the messenger, right? Especially not when she’s a sweet, little old thing like her.

  “Uh, thanks. I appreciate it.” I look over at her curiously. What is she doing in a place like this?

  “Heroin,” her sweet voice interrupts my thoughts.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “I’m in for heroin addiction, I’m guessing you were gonna ask. It’s always the first question.”

  So much for a sweet, innocent granny.

  “Oh, wow. That’s intense.” I walk alongside her.

  “Well, it didn’t start out that way. It started with an Oxycodone prescription. It ended with heroin.” She answers sadly.

  Holy shit, it’s hard to imagine my walking partner with a needle in her arm. She must be in her late sixties or early seventies.

  “Where you start is never where you end up, that’s the thing with addiction,” she continues softly.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” I’m not sure what else to say.

  “Don’t be. I’m gonna be just fine.”

  My eye is caught by a flash of teal blue. A jacket in the crowd ahead. It’s the jacket that catches my eye, but the long, flowing brown hair that I lock onto. She turns and looks back over her shoulder. Holly’s beautiful blue eyes meet mine and I can’t hear what Mabel is saying anymore.

  “I’m sorry, I need to go,” I interrupt her and quickly zigzag through the bodies separating Holly and I, without saying another word.

  Ahead of me, Holly puts her head down and marches forward with more steam in her step. She’s trying to avoid me, but after this morning’s explosion I feel like we should clear the air. I mean, that’s my excuse anyway.

  “Hey, wait up,” I call out. I know she can hear me, but she keeps pressing forward. I maneuver around a large gaggle of women clucking like hens and close the distance between us.

  “Hey,” I grab her arm, “I
wanted to talk to you.”

  “I have nothing to say to you,” she brusquely yanks her arm from my grasp and sets her jaw in determination. I easily keep up with her increased pace. If she thinks she’s going to speed up and outwalk me, she’s mistaken.

  “Listen, I don’t know what I did to upset you, but I’m sorry. Ok? I didn’t mean to offend you this morning. Sometimes I’m not the best at expressing myself.” I continue.

  “You don’t say,” she snaps back, but some of the tension in her shoulders slides away and her pace slows slightly.

  “It’s true, look, icebreakers aren’t really my thing.”

  “No shit,” she answers.

  “Like one time, I made a speech at my buddy’s wedding. It was supposed to be touching. I talked about how when we went hunting, he’d open up about how he’d met the love of his life, even saying he’d met the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with,” I explain.

  “What’s wrong with that?” She looks over at me and I almost stop walking when her face softens and her beauty radiates through. She’s stunning.

  “The problem was, I didn’t know his wife was an animal rights type vegan and that when he went hunting with me, he’d told her he was just going camping as a cover story.”

  “Really?” Holly giggles and I can’t help but smile back.

  “Yeah, I mean, it’s sort of funny now. But, at the time she had a nuclear meltdown and I was like the leper no one wanted to talk to. Like I said, even when I’m not trying, I offend people.”

  Holly laughs a little and slows her pace again. She looks so beautiful when she smiles. I mean, she’s pretty damned sexy when she’s pouting too. I imagine how her thick lips would feel crushed against mine. How they would look sliding down my body to my fat… I shake my head and focus my gaze on the mysterious girl beside me. I’ve never been one to get drawn in by a pretty face, to light up from a simple smile. Why is she so different?