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 reaches 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.
A
s 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...”
Leah puts a hand on my shoulder. “I forgot about that too, Cleo. It was in the city, wasn’t it?”
I nod without speaking.
“And it’s only been a week,” Daniel adds.
“Poor Cleo.” Leah wraps her arm around me on one side.
“We’ll take care of you.” Daniel puts an arm around me on the other side, and Geoff stands close by with an understanding expression. And it’s amazing—I feel protected and circled by love.
“You need friends at a time like this,” Geoff tells me.
“And you’ve got us,” Leah says.
“Thanks.” I’m actually blinking back tears now.
For a while we stand out there in our tight little circle, just talking about life and death and how we all need friends. And it’s weird. For the first time, I actually feel like I might survive this. The buzzed feeling is starting to let up a little, and I feel pretty good. But when we get coffee, I opt for decaf. We sit and visit some more. Then Daniel announces it’s time to go, and as promised, he gets me home by eleven.
Once again, he walks me to the front door. But this time he lingers on the porch. He slips his arm around me and pushes a strand of hair out of my eyes. “You’re really special, Cleo. I can’t believe it took until the end of our senior year to figure this out. But I’m glad we did.” He leans forward and I’m sure he’s going to kiss me, and I’m so excited (and still a little buzzed) that I can’t even think what to do. But he stops midway and looks into my still-open eyes, which I should’ve shut. Instead he simply takes my chin in his hand, gently kissing my forehead, which actually tickles and makes me giggle.