Текст книги "Toxic"

Автор книги: Rachel Van Dyken

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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

Chapter Eleven

Stupid taco Tuesday and all it represented. I’d rather drive down to Mexico, buy some drugs, and risk the chance of getting caught on the Tijuana border by drug sniffing dogs than actually sit through an entire meal while everyone pretended life was perfect. —Gabe H.

Gabe

“You staying for dinner?” I took a swig of water and sat at the table. Wes sat opposite and chuckled, reaching for his own water and giving me that look that guys gave one another when they were enjoying the other’s misery way too much.

“Thought I would.” Wes’s grin widened. “You know since things got so interesting.”

“You should go.”

“I think I’d rather stay and watch Taco Tuesday drama.”

“I second that.” Kiersten took a seat and slapped me on the back, “Olé?”

“Um, no, and please remove your hand.” I glared.

She tilted her head. Ah, the pity look. Fantastic. Her hand moved from my shoulder down to my arm as she squeezed. Great! Effing wonderful. I’d just been given the supportive friend squeeze on top of everything else. Fantastic.

I wasn’t big on touch. I mean, I talked a big game, and sure I loved screwing around, but people actually touching me just to touch? Not a huge fan. It reminded me too much of them – the people at the home–of their touches, of their sad faces every damn day that week.

I freaking hated it when people felt sorry for me, or what was even worse, when I felt guilty for being thankful that I was actually in that position, thankful that the person they wanted most to live… was actually dying.

“Which one do you think she would like, Park?” Her mother touched my arm briefly before putting her hand back onto her lips as they trembled.

“Um,” my voice croaked. I could barely keep my eyes open anymore. I’d cried so damn much that they stopped producing tears. Instead they burned like hell until I closed them.

The only problem with closing them?

I saw her.

I saw the damn scarf.

And I saw all the blood.

“That one,” I whispered hoarsely. “She always liked pink.”

Mrs. Unifelt smiled sadly. “Maybe we won’t have to use it.”

I didn’t know what to say. I mean, what do you say to that? I hope your daughter doesn’t make it? I hope she dies in surgery because I really can’t live in world where I’m reminded of her every day but I never actually get to be with her again?

“Pink it is.” The funeral director put a large check through the box on her sheet and gave me the same smile she’d been giving me for the past hour.

I wasn’t sure whether I was too numb to react or just too pissed. A freaking check box? Was that all her life had been worth? A recycled piece of paper with tiny boxes to fill in?

The tears burned at the back of my throat.

“…of course she may make it through surgery. We always have hope. After all, the doctors are confident they can stop the hemorrhaging in her brain, though they’re certain she won’t ever be our little princess again.”

I couldn’t take it anymore. The dam broke and tears flooded my eyes and spilled over as I stared at the pink casket. What the hell kind of torture was this? Pick out your girlfriend’s casket? The same way I go and pick out a tie for a movie premiere?

The entire business made me sick.

From the dim lighting in the funeral home—

—To the idea that they made thousands of dollars off of something that wasn’t going to make me or anyone else feel better. She was going to die. And if she lived… Damn. If she lived, I’d wish she hadn’t.

And that made me the worst type of human being.

Because anyone should want to live when faced with death. Any sane person would choose life. But me? If I was in her shoes? I would choose death. As far as I was concerned, the love of my life had already died, all I was waiting for was her physical body to follow suit. Her mind – everything that had made her who she was – was gone.

Mrs. Unifelt reached for my arm again, this time gripping it like a lifeline.

“And have you decided who will be doing the eulogy?”

All eyes turned to me. A weight descended on my shoulders as I hung my head and gave a slight nod. “I am.”

“If it comes to that,” Mrs. Unifelt added.

“Of course,” the funeral director said quickly. “If it comes to that.”

“Where’d you go, Gabe?” Kiersten snapped her fingers in front of me.

Everyone was seated at the table staring at me like I’d just grown a third eye and had demanded they call me Kanye.

“Uh…” I scratched the back of my head and let out a nervous chuckle. “Sorry, long night last night.”

“Must have been,” Wes muttered as his eyes flickered from Saylor back to me. “All things considering.”

Choosing to ignore his slight to my inability to sleep with any female since his operation, I glared and started piling my plate high with tacos.

“So…” Kiersten stole the taco shell from my plate and began making her own.

Irritated, I shot her a narrow-eyed glare and pretended not to be interested in her girly talk.

“Tell me about this project you guys have to do?” She finished.

“Yes, tell us. We wait with bated breath,” I said dryly, annoyed that I had to sit through dinner with a hot stranger who would rather see me choke to death than make it through the next ten minutes.

Someone kicked me under the table. I winced but otherwise said nothing.

“Well…” Saylor reached for a taco shell.

I swiped it away from her before she could grab it, pretending not to see her. So now I had like three naked taco shells on my plate all because I had the manners of a fifth grader and wanted to stick my tongue out at her – or maybe it was down her throat? I didn’t say I wasn’t confused about her.

“We have to do this Third Semester Seminar project about something that’s important to us. Since Lisa didn’t really know what to focus on—”

“—and since the most important thing to Lisa is the number of shoes she has in her closet,” I sang.

“Thanks, Gabe.”

I saluted her and piled some cheese onto my taco, hating that I was being put through the torture of watching Saylor nibble on a damn chip like a bunny who couldn’t decide if it liked its food.

“Anyways…” Saylor stuffed the chip into her mouth. Thank God. Then took another. Of course. “I decided that we could work on my idea together. The professor had already put a few teams together, and we were the last two left.”

“Bummer, and I thought I was important,” Lisa joked.

Saylor smiled, and I had to look away. If only she had lipstick on her teeth, or a damn tortilla chip stuck somewhere. Instead, it was blinding and way too happy for my taste. Playing the happy one was my job, but I didn’t have to enjoy it. Happy just seemed easy for her, so basically, she reminded me of a female version of Wes. Great, now there were two of them in the world, and both in my life indefinitely. I could only handle Wes’s wisdom in small doses; otherwise, I figured I’d strangle him or try to punch him in the face. Don’t get me wrong. I loved him more than a brother, but when a person’s so stuck in their own hole of darkness – it hurts like hell when someone shines a light on them. Your eyes have to adjust, and let’s just say it isn’t a pleasant experience; it’s why people stay there. It’s why a lot of us, and I do mean a lot of us, choose the façade rather than the reality of where we’re living. Hell, I’d been living in my dark hole for so long, I’d set up camp, put up pictures, and ordered cable.

Light reminded me of her smile, of what I’d taken, of what I’d never deserve again. It reminded me of loss, and I hated being reminded of loss. At least in my darkness I was comfortable. I didn’t have to think about the light because it was such a rarity I sometimes forgot what it even felt like.

“Stop smiling,” I blurted.

All heads turned in my direction.

“What? Me?” Saylor, still smiling, pointed at herself.

“Yeah, you got a chip stuck in your teeth or something,” I grumbled. “Didn’t want you to be embarrassed in front of strangers.” Holy Hell.

Her eyes narrowed.

“Chip free,” Kiersten announced after a two second stare down at Saylor’s mouth. “So what did you guys choose?”

Great, so everyone was back to ignoring me. I could handle that. I took a huge bite out of my taco and waited.

“One of the local group homes. The one down by the Sound.”

I spit out my taco onto my plate and started choking.

Lisa’s face went pale, and with shaking hands she reached for her water. “Oh, for some reason I thought you said retirement home this morning?”

“Oh, I did.” Saylor grinned. “Only because I wasn’t sure if they were going to let us into this other facility. For some reason the security is kind of crazy there. Anyways, my older brother did an internship there for a year before med school and said it was fantastic.”

“Why the hell would you choose a group home?” I blurted, voice scratchy after nearly asphyxiating on a taco.

“Gabe!” Kiersten smacked me in the arm. “What’s wrong with you tonight?”

I shrugged, not sure how long I could take the conversation.

“If you must know…” Saylor said in a tense voice. “My younger brother has Down syndrome. He had to go to a group home when he was really small because my parents had so much trouble with him. He wouldn’t eat, would scream all the time… that is until we finally learned how to take care of him the way he needed. His ears were really sensitive…” Saylor’s voice died off.

“And?” I prompted.

“And none of your business.” There was that damn smile again.

“Great, so…” Lisa nodded awkwardly. “Guess we’ll be going to the group home this weekend?”

“I’ll have to call and—”

“—they have game night Friday nights. Better go Saturday afternoon.” With that I pushed away from the table. My chair toppled to the ground as I made my way out of the dorm room and down the hall. I pressed the elevator button so hard I jammed my finger.

“You gonna tell her?” Wes’s calm voice said from behind me.

“Shit!” I hit my hand against the elevator door, praying it would open soon so I could escape. “Tell her what?”

“About the fact that you basically visit that same group home at least four times a week?”

Leave it to Wes to stalk me.

“You have security detail on me or what, man?” I tried to laugh but the laugh got caught in my throat.

“Something like that,” Wes’s said softly. “You know you could have told me.”

“Told you?” I croaked. “Just what do you know? I mean, what the hell Wes, what’s left to tell? Seems like you know it all anyway.”

The elevator dinged. I rushed in and pressed the lobby button.

“For what it’s worth…” Wes swallowed and looked away. “I’ve known for months.”

I swore and closed my eyes.

“Don’t tell,” I pleaded as the doors closed.

Chapter Twelve

Snap at my best friend? Lose my shit in front of everyone I love? Check and check. I was losing myself – again. And this time I wasn’t sure I’d make it through. After all, being lost once is an accident… but if it happens twice, three times? A guy’s gotta wonder if it’s just in his destiny to never be found. —Gabe H.

Gabe

With a curse I kicked the door to the elevator, ready to break the damn thing in.

By the time I was in the lobby, I was ready to find an escape; anything would do at that point.

My phone rang. I reached into my pocket and cursed when I saw the number.

“Hello?”

“P—Gabe?”

“Yes?”

“She’s having another one of those nights… we’ve tried calming her down, but she wants you to sing to her, think you could do that?”

“Sure.” My throat constricted with tears. “Of course, just put me on speakerphone like usual.”

The phone made a static noise and then I heard Princess cry, “Park, Parkerrr! Sing our song, sing it! They don’t sing it right!”

“Aw, Princess that’s because they aren’t me.”

I heard giggling on the other end. “Okay, Park, I’m in bed.”

“Snug as a bug in a rug?”

“Snug!” she yelled in that high-pitched voice I’d grown used to. It had changed since the accident – it had become more childlike, more precious.

I looked around the lobby and went into one of the corners. Nobody was near me. so it’s not like someone would record my little performance and put it on YouTube.

“I love my Princess, my favorite girl. Every time I hear her laugh, I want to save the world – cause she’s my, my, my girl.”

Princess started singing along with me.

“My girl, my girl, she’ll always be my girl. And when the tears fall from her eyes, I’ll swear to never let her cry… never alone, never without me, never without us together. My girl, her and I will rule forever. My girl. She’ll forever be my girl.”

“Thanks, Parker,” she said in a happy voice.

Memories came flooding back.

“You’re crazy!” Kimmy laughed as I twirled her around the small room. “Put me down!”

“Never!” I vowed and then kissed her hard on the mouth. “If I put you down, then I’ll have to pick you up again, and that just seems silly since I want you in my arms forever.”

“Laying it on thick, Parker.” Her eyes twinkled.

“You love it.”

She nodded and laughed again. “It’s you. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Thanks for the song…” she said in a breathless voice. “I love it.”

“Every night.” I vowed. “It should be your lullaby every night. So when you fall asleep, the last thing you think of is me, and when you wake up, I want you to think of us.”

“I like that.” She kissed my cheek.

I set her on her feet and cupped her face. “Kimmy, I’ll always be there for you. You need to know that.”

She nodded, her eyes welling with tears. “I’m afraid we don’t have enough time – like something’s going to happen.”

“Stop…” I pulled her in for a kiss. “Regardless of what happens, it’s you and me. Tell me you believe me. Abandoning you? It’s never going to happen.”

“Thanks, Park.”

“Anything for you Princess, anything for you.”

Rustling and static told me they were taking me off speaker phone. The airy echo sound was gone and the connection was solid again. “Thanks again, Gabe. You know how hard it is on her when she doesn’t sleep.”

“Anytime.” My voice cracked. “After all, I made a promise.” I’d vowed never to abandon her.

That was it.

I couldn’t take it anymore.

There was a reason I lost myself in women – a reason I didn’t do relationships, a reason I closed myself off from the world.

Because the minute you let someone in – they either die – or you kill them – literally. That was my truth. My life.

A girl stepped off the elevator dressed to kill. Her blonde hair was piled high on her head, her makeup so dark she looked like a prostitute.

“Hey…” I licked my lips as the girls head snapped up. “Where you off to?”

“Out.”

I nodded and took a step toward her as the elevator doors opened into the lobby. “Out sounds good.”

“’Kay.” Her eyelashes lowered. “Gabe, right?”

“Right.” I wasn’t surprised. I had a certain reputation.

“So,” she said, as a blush spread across her cheeks, “you can ride with me if you want.”

My body trembled, I was ready to puke all over again. I wanted to run, I didn’t even know where I wanted to run, but running never got me anywhere. Running still made it hurt.

I wanted to lose myself.

“How about…” I gripped her hand. “…we hang out for a bit and then we’ll decide when the riding takes place?”

Her eyes briefly widened and then her mouth dropped open as a hiss of air escaped. “Sounds… good. Real good.”

****

The club was filled with sweaty bodies grinding all up in each other’s business. It may have appeared to be my scene, but I was more of a classic rock type of guy, so hearing TI play over the loud speaker made me wince, but I tried to appear into it.

A techno track came on, the green lights started to flash with the pounding music.

“Wanna drink?” Cee-Cee asked.

Hey, at least I’d learned her name.

Even if I did kiss her first and then ask.

Not that she’d minded. She already had her legs spread when I got into the car with her – I didn’t take her up on that particular offer – at least not yet. I wasn’t drunk enough yet, not high enough, not pissed enough.

“Shots.” I licked my lips. “Let’s order shots.”

She shrugged and went over to the bartender while I just stood there and watched as people laughed and partied.

I used to party like that.

Hell, I used to laugh.

But after Wes’s surgery – things had changed. I’d been living a lie for half my life; how the hell did I somehow run out of strength to be the person I wanted people to see? It was like I was a burnt out actor, only it wasn’t a movie. It was my reality.

“Cheers.” Cee-Cee winked, her dark eyelashes fanning against her cheeks as we each did three shots without choking. She must be a regular. Most girls would be downing vodka sodas and asking about calorie content.

“Wanna dance?” She leaned in so close I could smell the vanilla perfume she wore. I fought the urge to push her away.

“Not really in the mood for dancing.” Instead of pushing her, I pulled her against me, ready to lose myself.

“What’s your story?” she asked above the noisy music.

“I don’t do the whole deep emotional talking and spilling my guts out onto the floor. so if you’re into that, screw off,” I snapped.

“Good.” She nodded in approval as she shoved her hands down the front of my jeans in front of everyone. “I don’t either.”

My body flared to life and I hated myself for it.

Without saying a word, I dragged her toward the back of the club.

“Wait.” She winked and then pulled a joint out of her slim black purse, “You want?”

“Aw, honey, you think I’m into that shit? I go big or go home.”

“I can tell.” She looked me up and down, her eyes settling on my arousal before she reached into her purse and pulled out a plastic bag full of white powder and a mirror. “You like?”

“Very much,” I lied and looked away. I knew how this scene would play out. I knew it like I knew the back of my hand.

I’d sneak her into the bathroom, she’d line up the coke for me to snort, we’d get high, we’d drink, I’d take advantage of her, she’d smell like cheap perfume. Her sweat would be all over me and I’d be caught up in the same damn trap I’d been caught up in years ago.

The only difference now?

Now, I was too numb, too indifferent to care.

You know you’re in some deep shit when doing drugs doesn’t make you feel – I felt nothing. I was empty. I lacked the energy to pretend.

I’d lost myself.

My identity had been music, and then her, and then I’d been happy just being Gabe, the happy little player with a heart of gold.

I was so damn tired of it all.

Cee-Cee’s eyebrows rose. “So?” She held up the bag and tilted her head.

“I’m gonna pass, but you have fun getting screwed by complete strangers. I’m out.”

“I thought you wanted to party,” she said in a condescending voice as I started walking away.

With a snort I turned back and glared. “Honey, one of my best friends died from a heroin overdose, a family friend bought me drugs when I was thirteen, I lost my virginity to an A list actress twice my age. Believe me when I say, there is absolutely nothing you could do that would shock me, or make me feel anything but dead inside.”

Her mouth snapped closed as her teeth ground together. With a jerk she walked off, her hips swaying as she made her way through the crowds.

I wanted to wake up drunk.

No, scratch that. I wanted to wake up and feel something – anything but the way I felt then – going through the motions, smiling and joking around as if I actually had something to live for.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

I looked down at the text.

Mom: If he calls don’t answer. He wants money. Love you. Mom.

“Hello, final straw,” I muttered under my breath as I shoved my phone back in my pocket and walked over to the bar.

“What can I get for you?” the bartender asked as he mechanically shoved drinks in people’s faces and put tips in the jar in front of him.

“Whiskey.” I sat down and drummed my fingertips against the countertop. “And keep ‘em coming.”

Ten. The number of times I got hit on while getting drunk off my ass.

Three. The number of times a woman brushed up against me and tried to cop a feel.

Two. The number of hours I spent torturing myself with memories of her laugh, her scent, the way she’d always seemed to make me feel like I could do anything in the world.

One. The number of minutes it would have taken for me to run back into the cabin and grab her helmet.

Amazing. How one minute can define the rest of your life.

Yeah, clearly I still wasn’t drunk enough.

I lifted my hand but the bartender shook his head. “You’ve almost downed an entire fifth. I’m cutting you off.”

“Asshole,” I muttered under my breath.

He didn’t even respond.

I stumbled to my feet and made my way outside. The crisp spring air didn’t sober me up. If anything it made me feel nauseated.

Shit. I’d ridden with Cee-Cee. Cursing, I pulled out my phone and called Lisa.

Her shame was mine.

Our shame was the same.

Our pasts aligned in a way that both disgusted me and endeared us to one another.

She didn’t answer.

I tried Lisa again.

And then desperation set in. I was cold, my buzz was starting to make me sway more on my feet, and a little voice inside me said that if I tried to walk back to campus I’d probably end up in the Sound face down with a belly full of water.

Shit, I was in a dark place.

I dialed Wes’s number.

He answered on the first ring.

“Gabe?”

“I need a ride.” I fought to keep the slur from my voice.

With a heavy sigh he answered, “Where you at?”

“Club by the school, uhh…” I started laughing hysterically. “Shit, I don’t know, why don’t you just ask NASA? You’re the great Wes Michels right? Screw it, I don’t need you.”

I pressed end and stumbled toward the sidewalk and fell on my ass, leaning my head on my knees.

The images kept flashing. First the blood, next the cameras going off and the reporters. God, the reporters. I’d freaked. I’d lost it in front of them.

Minutes went by, maybe an hour, who knew… and then I heard a horn honking and headlights in my face.

I put my hand up to block the light but it didn’t help.

Footsteps neared. I still couldn’t see.

And then a fist came flying for my jaw. I hit the pavement so hard I could have sworn one of my teeth fell out of my mouth.

“Get up, asshole.”

Wes? Did he just punch me in the face? And call me an asshole? I tried to laugh but my jaw hurt too damn bad.

“I said—” Wes grabbed me by my shirt and lifted my limp body off the ground. “Get. The. Hell. Up.” Another punch came, and then thankfully I blacked out.

Maybe if I prayed hard enough – I’d stay there, in the darkness. Maybe then my sins would be atoned for.