to Cash, unfortunately. I need the exercise though. I need the exhaustion so I step up on the machine. I place my water bottle in the holder and my towel on the hand railing. I feel Cash’s eyes on me so I turn my head in his direction. He stares coldly at me for a second before pushing the stop button and getting off the machine.
Nice.
We haven’t spoken in years. At least not off the field. I dig into my pocket and pull out my iPod and earbuds. Finding a fast, heavy song I crank it up and then turn the treadmill up as fast as it will go. I should start out slow but I don’t. I need to run the hell away from Cash, Macy, Madison, that night, everything. The voices keep following me though, no matter how fast I run, they are faster and louder than the music I use to drown them out.
After my afternoon practice I meet up with Jay Lucas in the quad just after nightfall. It’s a secluded part, dark and off the walkways so no one can see. Jay’s the drug dealer I’ve been buying from since freshman year. He is a tall lanky guy covered in tattoos from head to toe. He has these eyes that look right through you like you aren’t worth the same air he breathes. Jay is not someone you ever want to double cross.
Jay greets me with a nod, never meeting my eyes. Our greetings are minimal, less is always better, especially with him. “You got my stuff?”
Jay reaches into his pocket and pulls out the dime bag. It’s only enough for one joint. I can’t risk being caught with more on school grounds.
I slap the money in his hand and with my free one I take my weed. Jay and I give a curt nod and he’s off until he gets another text from me.
I put the weed in the front pocket of my jeans and turn toward my truck. I drive over to the stadium parking in the farthest spot in the lot and cut the engine. Campus Police know my truck since this is my usual parking place so they leave me alone. It doesn’t take me long before I have the joint in my hand, taking the first drag, and hold it in my lungs for as long as I can. Once I feel the burning, I slowly let it out as smoke fills the cab of my truck. I reach over to turn up the radio, the beats of “Am I Wrong” by Nico & Vinz flow through the speakers. I laugh, the song title fitting the setting.
Yeah, I am wrong but so fucking what. I feel like my whole fucking life I’ve been wrong.
Reaching under the seat I pull out my bottle of whiskey. Unscrewing the top I put it to my lips and take a swig. The voices in my head quiet with every passing minute. Short lived, but I’ll take the solitude however the fuck I can get it.
I don’t hear Alexa screaming, “Steven!”
I don’t hear Macy saying, “Did you have sex with my sister?”
And I don’t hear Cash saying. “We will never be bros again.”
At least I won’t hear these things until tomorrow compliments of this bottle and this joint.
As I sit there with my head against the seat, I think of Macy. It’s where I should be right now instead of here, trying to numb pain that’s overwhelming me. I miss my girl. Well, she’s not really my girl. I’m not sure what we are anymore and most days I don’t care. That’s not really true but fuck that girl deserves so much better than me. I think that’s why I almost fucked Madison that night at prom. Madison is different in everything else but she looks like Macy. Madison doesn’t make me try to feel anything like Macy does. Madison and I share the same blame for that night and Macy doesn’t understand that. She can’t relate to what it feels like to kill your best friend. I shouldn’t have been hanging out of the sunroof, I shouldn’t have been smoking and drinking and carrying on. I wouldn’t have caused Steven to crash.
“Goodies” by Ciara comes on the radio and the rush of memories hits me right in the fucking stomach and I’m tossed back to the night of senior prom.
Why am I here? I don’t belong here.
Those people made me feel sick. I looked