Determination (12 page)

The hours swirled into each other with a haze of chills, vomiting, and the pounding of my heart. Leo checked in on me at some point, but I had no idea when that was. Most of the time, I screamed at my parents, though there was no one else in the apartment. I cursed at Steven. I was at the point of begging God to let me die when Brian came home. As he held me close on the couch, I couldn’t tell if it was his sobs or my own body that made me tremble. Later, after the worst of the symptoms were over, I apologized for asking him to help me kill myself. He merely shook his head and told me he didn’t want to talk about it.

Around 3:00 a.m., I fell into a fitful sleep full of dreams about Steven. I could almost feel his hands around my throat and his fists pounding my stomach. The worst part of the dream, however, came at the end, when I stood powerless as Steven raped Brian. The tears of humiliation in Brian’s eyes as he took each thrust were too much for me. I woke up sobbing and retching so violently that Brian’s sleepy face soon swam before my eyes, begging me to tell him what was wrong.

After that, I was too afraid to sleep again.

The third day dawned with deliberate slowness. As I sat on the edge of the bed, watching Brian sleep, I made a conscious effort to keep my breathing slow and easy despite the wild racing of my pulse.

The stomach cramps had abated for the moment, but my heart constantly seemed like it wanted to leap from my chest. The anxious, pained expression, which never left Brian’s face while he was awake, had relaxed in sleep. The sunlight played off his soft cherub curls, and I resisted the fierce desire to run my fingers through them.

I wanted to leave and save him from the horrors of my addiction.

When he’d said he wanted us to be together, I was sure he didn’t really mean to sign up for night terrors, vomiting, and mood swings that would make a saint swear like a sailor. In fact, I think I’d even called him “Saint Brian” at one point the previous night, which made my heart Determination

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hurt as I watched him sleep. He tried so hard to do everything right, and I was the one who messed it all up.

“Jamie,” he whispered in his sleep. I couldn’t help it. I lay down in the bed next to him and wrapped my arm around him. The gesture had more to do with comforting me than comforting him, but the result was the same. He moaned slightly in his sleep, so quietly it was almost a sigh, and nuzzled his face into my chest. Almost as if he knew I was there, he sought my comfort.

“I love you, baby,” I whispered into his hair. God, he didn’t deserve what I had put him through over the last few days. He didn’t deserve the yelling, cleaning up puke, or listening to me screaming in my sleep. Brian worked so hard to keep a roof over my head, feed me, and keep me safe. I had turned out to be nothing more than a parasite on his life. As he snuggled closer to me and I wrapped my arms around him, a plan formed in my head.

I knew how to be what Brian needed, but first, I had to pull myself together.

“I’LL be gone most of the day. Nick wants to do some stills before we shoot. If you get hungry, I picked up a few more pizzas or there’s some ham and cheese for sandwiches,” Brian said as he stood at the foot of the bed with his shoes in hand. He looked gorgeous in the tight jeans and red T-shirt he’d decided on for their photo shoot this morning. I wanted to tell him that, but after three days of nearly no sleep, I couldn’t get the words out. After putting on his shoes, he came to my side of the bed and sat down.

“I know this is hard, but I want you to know that I am so proud of you. You just need to hang on for a little longer,” he whispered as he stroked my hair as a mother would a small child. Then, in the same fashion, he leaned down and kissed my forehead gently. As he moved away, our eyes met, and I smiled as best I could. Brian smiled back and kissed my lips gently before standing up. Once he had picked up his wallet and keys from the table next to the door, he was gone.

74

Jamie Mayfield

I threw the covers back, revealing my jeans and sweatshirt, and got up. I’d showered and dressed just after dawn while Brian slept.

Taking some of the cash I’d saved with Steven, I put it in my wallet and grabbed my shoes from near the door. The directions I’d written last night after putting our new address into an online mapping site would allow me to take the bus downtown.

The stomach cramps started again just as I locked the front door behind me.

“Damn it,” I muttered to myself and followed the instructions, which took me to a bus stop three blocks south of our apartment. A warped-looking shelter covered in graffiti was the only indication a bus should stop on that corner. As I stood near it, I glanced around at the boarded-up store fronts that looked like their owners had abandoned them decades before. A couple of teenagers in baggy jeans and baggier sweatshirts passed around a paper bag as they watched from the opposite curb. Without a schedule, I wasn’t sure when the bus would arrive, but I didn’t feel too worried in the middle of the morning.

Ten minutes after I’d gotten to the stop, a rickety bus crept to a stop near the curb, and I stepped aboard. Someone had taped a sign that read DRIVER CARRIES NO CHANGE to the fare-vending thing at the top of the bus stairs.

“How much is the fare?” I asked the ancient man behind the wheel as I pulled my wallet from my back pocket. The uniform hung from his emaciated frame, and white hair spilled out over ebony skin from his matching hat. He looked as sick and frail as I felt.

“Dollar twenty-five,” he said, sounding bored as he stared out of the windshield. I fed two one-dollar bills into the machine and found an empty seat near the back. Staring out the window, I watched the neighborhoods change over the next twenty minutes or so. It took far less time to reach downtown than it had to reach the apartment that first day. It seemed Leo had taken a more scenic route to ensure no one followed us. Soon, the buildings started to get taller, the streets and sidewalks better maintained, and the people wore more suits than hoodies.

When I started to recognize some of the areas from my time on the streets, I walked toward the front of the bus. Holding on to the Determination

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handle near the bus’s front door, I waited for the next stop. When the driver turned, and I saw the Italian café I’d stolen food from, I knew I was in the right place. The bus slowed just across from the restaurant, and as the doors opened, I got off and headed north, away from the apartment I’d shared with Steven. Coming here was a huge risk, I knew that, but I needed to get myself together for Brian.

Tracking back through the alley, I looked down one of the side streets and saw nothing.
Damn it
. When I’d been on the streets with George, it seemed like we had to avoid a dealer on every corner, but when I needed one, they were all gone. Maybe they’d moved to different spots in the months I’d been living with Steven. I moved down to the next block and saw the little deli where George and I had been trying to eat that night. Near the mouth of the alley, I saw two guys standing close together. One looked nervous as the other slid something into his hand. When the other man turned so that I could see his face, I remembered George pointing him out. I think he’d called the man “Tony.”

Tony turned and started to head back toward the street once he’d concluded his business, and I realized I was about to miss my chance.

When I hurried toward the men, the second one took off, while the dealer stood his ground.

“What, kid?” Tony asked as he searched the alley—for what, I wasn’t sure. He stood about half a foot shorter than me, but with his muscular build, he probably weighed at least fifty pounds more. I wasn’t a threat to him in the least, but he still looked around cautiously.

“I’m looking for some oxy,” I told him quietly when I stood just a foot from him in the shadowed alley. Absently, he rubbed at the dragon tattoo on his left biceps with a dirty hand.

“Sure you are, kid. Now get lost,” he said, and ran a hand over his black crew cut before turning to leave.

“No, really, please. I need it,” I pleaded, and something in my voice must have resonated with him because he stopped.

“Pull up your shirt and drop your jeans to your knees,” he said, and I took a step back as I realized how precarious my position was. No 76

Jamie Mayfield

one knew where I’d gone, and I stood in a deserted alley with a drug dealer who’d just asked me to expose my bare skin to him.

“Why?” I asked, feeling the nausea rise in my stomach again. I’d run before I let his guy rape me—drugs or no drugs.

“Because you look like a snitch, and I want to know you’re not wired,” he said and pushed my shoulder. I took two steps back, feeling like a complete moron for what I was about to do. First, I pulled up my shirt and exposed the healing burn. The dealer didn’t flinch, nor did he try to touch me. Then I let my shirt fall and unbuttoned my fly. He watched with little interest as I pulled my jeans down to my knees.

“Enough?” I asked and jerked them back up when he nodded.

“Fine. I got sixty-milligram pills going for thirty bucks a pill.

How many did you want?” I had about five hundred on me, and I still needed to get back home. The math took me a minute because my head screamed, and I felt fuzzy and lethargic from the withdrawal. If I got fifteen pills, that should be enough to wean myself down over a week. I still had another three hundred back at the apartment if I needed more.

“Fifteen,” I said, pulled my wallet out, and counted out the four hundred and fifty for him. He shoved it in his pocket. Handing me three small bags, he took out his phone and began to type before turning to leave.

“Hey, are you usually hanging around by this deli?” I asked quickly before he turned the corner.

“Yeah, most days,” he said as he put the phone back into his pocket. I walked around to the front of the deli and went inside. It was the first time I’d ever been in there, but I paid for a bottle of water and asked to use their john. The bathroom would be as good a place as any to take the oxy. My hands shook as I tried to open the bottle. I could almost taste the bitter, chalky pill even before it rested on my tongue.

Saliva pooled in my mouth when I pulled the bag from my pocket. I’d start with one and see what it did for me.

It took several minutes to feel the relief start to flood my body.

These pills seemed to be a higher dosage than the ones Leo had found. I closed my eyes and sank onto the toilet as the pain receded. I considered taking another one, just to counter all the effects of the Determination

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withdrawal, but I didn’t want to take the chance that I couldn’t make it home flying high on oxy. I took another swig of the water and pushed the bag of pills deep into my pocket, unlocked the stall, and headed back in the direction of the bus stop.

THE enchiladas were nearly together by the time Brian got home later that afternoon. He surprised me coming in so early, and I was suddenly glad I hadn’t wasted any time getting back to the apartment. Taking off his shoes near the door, he then padded barefoot to the kitchen and gently wrapped his arms around my waist.

“Hi,” he murmured against my neck while I stood with my hands buried in cheese, sauce, and browned hamburger as I assembled the remaining enchiladas. I turned my head and kissed him while I coated one of the tortillas with sauce.

“I thought you were going to be late?” I asked and sprinkled a bit of meat into the tortilla, followed by a healthy bit of cheese.

“I thought I would, but they put me up first on the schedule to shoot so I got back early. I wanted to see how you were,” he admitted.

“Brandon was on the schedule last, and he offered to drop me at the bus stop so I could get back home while Mike was shooting with Alex and Em.”

“I wonder what Alex thought of that,” I mused. We’d talked a couple of times since I’d moved into the apartment with Brian, but Alex seemed busy with his new life. I missed seeing him and talking to him, but it made me happy that he’d finally found someone who understood what an amazing guy he was, even if Mike was a dickhead.

“He thinks Em is hot, so I doubt he had a—” Brian’s phone rang, interrupting his sentence. He took it from his pocket and looked at the display before answering. “Hey Alex, what’s—” Alex’s voice came through the phone with such volume that I could hear it, though I couldn’t understand what he’d said. “Wait, slow down, Alex. What happened?” Brian paused as he listened to Alex, who sounded hysterical. “Hang on; I’m going to put you on speaker so Jamie can hear, too.”

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Jamie Mayfield

“He’s here! Jesus, he’s right outside!” Alex screamed into the phone. I could tell he was crying, and I wanted so badly to be there to comfort him. “Mike, Em, and I were walking to the Jeep when he just came at me out of nowhere. Mike tackled him and screamed for me to run. Em pushed me toward the house, and I saw Brandon pulling up, so I ran. I’m in the… in the house, and the doors are locked. Nick called the police. Brian, what happens if—Mike!” We heard a loud clatter as Alex screamed and the phone fell. I looked at Brian, whose face had drained of color.

“Alex!” he yelled into the phone, but no one on the other end seemed to hear. “Oh my God, what if he hurt Mike? What if he got into the house?” he asked me as I washed my hands quickly in the sink.

Before I could dry them, he reached out and held one. Some kind of commotion happened again on the other end of the phone.

“Hey, you there?” Mike’s voice sounded tired and a little thick as he tried to talk over Alex’s hysterics in the background.

“Yeah, man, are you okay?” Brian squeezed my hand and relaxed marginally.

“I’m all right—it looks worse than it is,” Mike said. “I won’t be able to shoot for a while, but I don’t think anything’s broken.”

“I was so scared,” Alex’s voice sounded close but muffled, as if he’d buried his face in Mike’s chest. I took a step closer to Brian and rested my head on his shoulder. So much suffering, and it was all because of me. I hated it.

“I was, too, to be honest,” Mike admitted in a whisper I’m sure we weren’t supposed to hear. “I thought he was going to get to you before we could stop him.”