Glass (3 page)

I should resist.

Turn

away.

Walk

away.

Run

away,

far

away,

so far

the monster will

never

find me, never

sniff

me out,

never

dare

touch

me,

never

pretend to

hear

my meager complaints,

never

get even the slightest

taste

of the fear in my heart,

never

force me to

see

what I’m afraid to see.

It has been months since

I’ve been out looking to

score.

Chase is gone, Brendan

person non grata, my

Mexican Mafia

connect

a thing of the past.

Only one person comes

to mind, and Robyn

just might be hard to

find,

away at college in

California. And even

if I can locate my old

party

pal, how will I ever

make it over the mountain

to the Golden State? I used

to have plenty of

friends,

friends who could give

me rides. No more, and my

own wheels are in for a major

overhaul. I can’t borrow

Mom’s car to hunt down

whiff.

Can I?

Robyn’s brother is an old

friend. In fact, that’s how

I know Robyn. Trent’s great,

even if he is totally straight.

Meaning he doesn’t get high.

Because when it comes to sex,

he’s 100 hundred percent gay.

And I’m fine with things that way.

Mrs. Rosselli answers on

the third ring.
Hello? Oh, it’s

you.
Her voice is like a hail

storm—hard, staccato, frigid.

“Hello, Mrs. Rosselli.

Is Trent there? No?

Well, do you know

when he’ll get home, then?”

Long pause. Then,
I’m not

really sure. Can I help

you with anything else?

Something’s up with her.

I’m not really looking

for Trent, anyway. “Yes.

Can you tell me how

to get hold of Robyn?”

Longer pause.
Uh, you

know, she was moving

out of the dorm, into

an apartment. I’m not sure…

Things are growing clearer.

“Is there a problem, Mrs.

Rosselli? I just want to

catch up with old friends.”

The longest pause of all.

You’re not their friend,

Kristina. You’re nothing

but trouble they don’t need.

But not really smarting,

I could tell her that

both of her children

need all the friends

the
ycan get—trouble

or not. One is eighteen

and gay, in a city where

homosexuality is almost

as dirty a word as “Democrat.”

The other will be lucky

to finish her freshman year

in college—too much time

buying affection with an

omnipresent speed stash.

But saying that won’t suit

either of us at the moment.

“I’m not sure what you mean,

Mrs. Rosselli. I’ve made some

mistakes, yes. But I’m working

hard to straighten myself out.

Having friends in my life—

good friends, on the right

track themselves—is one

thing I desperately need.

I apologize if I’ve ever

done anything to offend

you, or to hurt Robyn or

Trent. I don’t believe I

have, but if you think

so, please let me make

it up to you.” Oh yeah,

I’m back in the game,

and damn does it feel great!

But it works.

I’m sorry, Kristina.

I shouldn’t be so judgmental.

“That’s okay, Mrs. Rosselli.

I understand your feelings.”

Trent works for a lawyer

after school. He usually

gets home around six.

“A lawyer? Wonderful!

I know he wanted to go

to law school….”

Robyn’s at UOP in

Stockton. She still has

her old cell number, 775…

“Thank you so much.

I’ll call Trent later. Please

tell him I was in touch.”

I will. And how’s that

baby? Growing like

corn, I’ll wager.

Growing like corn?

Whatever. “He’s beautiful,

thanks. Looks just like me.”

She chuckles.
I bet he

does. Take care, Kristina.

“You too, Mrs. Rosselli.”

I click the phone dead,

dial another number.

“Hey, Robyn. It’s Kristina.

What’s up?”

Strung,

like her brain is

disconnected

from her mouth.

Don’t get me

wrong.

I remember that

feeling well—

knowing

exactly what you

want to say, but

your

lips can’t quite

manage the

correct

combination of vowels

and consonants

to form the

words.

Could be a bad sign.

Anyone that

incapable

of cohesive language

could very well be

crashing—another way

of saying

Robyn is definitely

still using, but might

be out at the moment,

a sentence

worse than death for

a regular tweaker.

How bad
is
my timing?

K-Kristina?

“C’mon, Robyn. It

hasn’t been that long.”

Oh, yeah, right.

Kristina. Whatcha

been up to?

“Not much. Studying

for my GED. Taking

care of my baby.”

Sounds…like not

a lot of fun.

“Which is exactly why

I’m calling you.”

Oh, yeah, right.

Well, I could maybe

help you out there.

“Very cool. I have to

see if I can borrow a car.

How about tomorrow?”

That would probably

work. I’m in class

until four.

She can do classes,

sounding like that?

“Okay. I’ll work on

the car and give you

a buzz tomorrow.”

Oh, yeah, right.

Uh, Kristina? Come

alone, okay?

Tweaker talk for

This better not be a bust.

“Not a problem, Robyn.

All I want is to get my head.”

Thinking about it,

I’m starting to want

that real bad.

Not having had to manufacture

a lie in quite a long time.

I have to say, that isn’t a bad

place to be, where you don’t

have to lie. Everything is just

so much easier when you don’t

have to remember what you

told who, and when, and why.

What is simply is. But not

anymore, I guess. Now I have

to not only come up with a reason

to go, but also to remember exactly

what it was, no matter how tweaked

I might be when I get home.

Tweaked! It takes a modicum

of thinking, but within an hour or so,

I invent a great (I think) excuse.

“Mom, is there any

way I could borrow

your car? There’s a

college fair I want to

check out tomorrow,

over in Sacramento.

It starts around four

and should go until

eight” (1 think

that will give me

plenty of time to

hook up with Robyn—

even if she isn’t

exactly on time—

score, toot a little,

and start back.)

“I’d ask you to come along, but I

need you to watch Hunter. I can’t

really take him with me. If it makes

you feel better, I’ll invite Trent to

ride along. He can visit his sister.”

College

fair?

Don’t        you want me

to go        along with

you?        You’ve

never       driven

that         far by your

               It’s aself.

        three
-

        hour trip, you

        know, not easy.

Of course, I know he

has to work until five thirty.

But at least if it comes up

in conversation, I can

tell Mom I asked,

but he had other plans.

I call about eight.

“Hey, Trent. It’s Kristina.

Long time, no talk.

“I heard you’re working

for a lawyer. Hope

he’s really cute!”

Trent hesitates, not

at all sure why I’m striking

up a conversation.

He’s not bad, actually.

But that can’t be why

you called. What’s up?

To the point, and why

not? We haven’t spoken

since before I had Hunter.

“Actually, I’m driving over

to Stockton tomorrow

afternoon and wondered

if you’d like to ride along.

I thought you might like

to drop in on Robyn.”

Thanks for thinking

of me, Kristina. But

I have to work and

even if I didn’t, I

wouldn’t go. Robyn

is on a fast track to death.

“What do you mean?”

Like I don’t know

exactly what he means.

If you don’t know, you

haven’t seen her lately.

And if you haven’t

seen her lately, I suggest

you steer clear. She’ll

take you down with her.

Kristina, we haven’t

hung out together

for a while, but you’ve

always been a good friend

to me. Let me offer you

a good friend’s advice.

Stay away from Robyn.

And if you see her coming,

run the other way.