He laughs, he’s high too. But he’s not as far gone and still making sense. I’m not.
“I’m usually taking panties off, not putting them back on.” His brow scrunches, he’s trying to figure out how to get them on since they’re sticking to my thighs. “This is surprisingly difficult.”
I think I laugh again. I’m not sure.
I close my eyes and when I open them, I’m on Landon’s bed and puking. Colton’s holding a bucket, Landon’s holding my hair and rubbing my back.
“Jesus…”
“What did she take?”
“Fuck…”
“I don’t know.”
“Should we call Cash?”
I moan shaking my head. Please don’t. I can’t actually speak the words. He can’t see me like this. He’ll never talk to me again.
There’s voices all around me, I turn my head to the one that’s familiar. Landon.
“Madison…” They’re shaking me. I curl into myself wrenching in pain as my stomach turns and twists.
“I think we should call 911.”
I moan again. “No…” I manage to get out.
I’m not okay, but I know this feeling and eventually I’ll pass out and this pain will subside.
I pray for the dark.
October 18, 2013
I’m feeling better the next day. Landon said I gave him a scare the other night. I don’t remember much of it.
Cash is in my room that morning, I’d only left Landon’s dorm not more than twenty minutes ago but I couldn’t not answer a text from Cash. Every day I wake up and I think to myself, you’re a fucking train wreck. But every morning, I get up because there’s something to look forward to. It’s a text message.
It’s the only reason I get up.
The only reason.
I know Cash knows that I get high. He doesn’t know the extent of this though. He has no idea how bad it’s gotten. How desperate I am. I’m sure even after the other night, Landon’s never indulged that information to Cash either. It’s not his place and the last thing Landon will do these days is overstep a boundary with Cash.
“What the fuck is this?” He’s standing at my nightstand, his pants unbuttoned, shirt on the floor.
My eyes shoot to the bag in his hands, my heart in my throat. Cash has known for years that I do drugs. But as far as he’s concerned. It’s weed. Dime bag shit. Certainly not the 8-ball he’s holding in his hand now.
“It’s nothing.” I try to blow it off and remove my shirt leaving me completely naked in front of him. Distracting him.
“No,” Cash shakes his head and throws the bag at me. “It’s something. It’s fucking cocaine, Madison! What the fuck are you doing with that shit?”
I grab the baggie and toss it inside my night stand slamming the drawer shut. “I don’t use it very often.” I say this as if it makes a difference to him. Which it doesn’t. He grabs it from the drawer again, walks the ten steps to the bathroom and I hear the toilet flush and then the door slam.
Cash sighs standing before me again. “Where’d you get it from?”
My heart pounds rapidly knowing that was all I had left.
“Why does it fucking matter?” My voice is annoyed, because I am. He has no right to be questioning me on this or flushing that shit down the toilet. “Why do you care?”
“Why do I care?” His voice stings my face when he kneels in front of me. “Are you serious? IT’S COCAINE! Are you trying to kill yourself?” He roars practically spitting in my face.
I flinch back at his tone.
“Maybe I am.” He starts to interrupt me again but I cut him off and stand myself leaving him kneeling on the floor at my feet. He stands and follows me. He’s not letting this go that easily.
“I’m not going to let you kill yourself. You need to stay away from Jay Lucas!” He says through gritted teeth looking over my body, his shaking with anger and annoyance. I’m still naked and he can’t help himself no matter how mad he is at me. When Cash gets angry, or emotional about something, it’s hard to focus on anything but that. I can’t help myself either.
“Cash…” I shake my head. “Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”
“Is that so?” He picks up my arm where the bruise is and glares at me. For a moment, he’s quiet and it sends my heart racing. “Sure looks like you can fucking take care of yourself.” He lets go and I feel my heart in the pit of my stomach, burning like the acid it’s become. “Stay away from him. It’s one thing to smoke pot. It’s something else entirely to be fuckin’ around with coke.”