Revive Me (14 page)

“It hasn’t been easy.” I looked down at the table and played with my hands in front of me. This wasn’t supposed to be some father-son bonding time. I wanted to get to the reason why he wanted me here so I could leave.

“Son, as you get older, it gets easier.”

I looked up at him. “What does?”

“Losing people. This is the first person close to you to die. This is your first friend to lose, but it won’t be your last. I can promise you that. As the years go by, it will happen again. And again.” I shivered, not wanting to think about anyone else I cared about dying. I couldn’t lose anyone else.

“Your world is different than mine.” My friends weren’t in prison or out committing federal crimes.

He gave me a cruel, condescending laugh. “Only one world, and we’re all livin’ in it. Ain’t nothing different, just different perspectives, but in the same world. I bet you didn’t think your friend with the loaded parents would be dead, given that he was squeaky clean and stayed out of trouble, but it happened. There aren’t separate worlds for good and bad people. We don’t live in a place where Heaven and Hell are separated. That’s only when we die. Until then, we’re all stuck in this shit hole together; the good, the bad, the ugly, and the evil.” He had a point. His bad decisions affected the good, the bad, and the innocent. He’d killed a man, took him away from his wife and kids, because he was a coward. He took a life because he was too lazy to go out and find a job. He wanted the easy way out and now he was sitting in prison for it.

“What do you want?” I asked. I knew he didn’t want me here to talk about my loss. The man didn’t have one empathetic bone in his body.

“I have a parole hearing coming up.”

I threw my hand up. “And there it is. You could’ve saved both of our time by being upfront with me or just giving me a phone call.”

He leaned forward, lacing his hands together, and setting them on the table. “I need you to speak on my behalf. Vouch for me.”

“Vouch for you?” There was nothing to vouch for him about. What he’d done was black and white. The evidence was so strong he took the plea, or he knew he would be facing a lot more time than eight years. He’d ruined a family. He didn’t deserve to walk free after only serving five.

“I need you to tell them how much you need your dad right now. You’re a survivor from a tragic school shooting, and you’re taking it hard. You need your old man by your side to help you get through it. I’ve been on good behavior, and with you and your mom’s statement, I could be out of this shit hole soon.”

He was using my loss as his advantage. He’d never change. “So you want me to lie?” I knew if he got out, he wouldn’t stay around long. He’d use my mom until we were broke and run off to do more stupid shit.

He grimaced. “I’ve done my time, I’ve paid my dues.”

“You paid your dues? How do you pay your dues for what you did?” I asked, my voice getting louder and harsher, causing a few people to look our way. “You can’t bring someone back to life.”

“You know that was an accident.”

I scoffed. “What, you tripped, fell, and the trigger pulled while you were in the middle of robbing a bank?”

“The cameras showed it was an accident. That’s why I got manslaughter. I didn’t go in there with the intention of killing anyone. He was fighting me for my gun, and it fired.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have been robbing a bank in the first place, and none of this would’ve happened.”

“I was trying to provide for our family.”

“Spare me the bullshit lies, you didn’t provide shit for us. Mom did. Everything you did, you did for yourself. We never got a dime from you.”

He shuffled his hands through his hair in frustration. “You’re a good boy. I can see it just by looking at you and from what your mom says. Not sure how you turned out that way ‘cause of the way I am, but I like that you are.”

I was his perfect pawn. “I stay out of trouble because I have to take care of us, you know … the family you bailed on.”

“You can hate me all you want, but I’m still your father, your blood. You need to respect and look out for your family. The hearing is in a few months, I’ll keep you updated.”

I felt my veins straining against my skin. “We finished here?”

“Your mom said you haven’t opened any of my letters.”

“You’ve sent me two, Dad. Two in five years.”

He winced at the truth. “Read them.”

“Kiss my ass. I’ve gotta go.” I started to get up, but his hand shot out to stop me.

“We still have thirty minutes,” he said, turning around to look at the clock on the wall.

“I’ve got homework.”

He nodded, fully aware I was blowing him off, but choosing not to say anything. “All right. I love you. Come visit me, again.”

“Yeah sure,” I grumbled and walked away.

Tessa

“B
abe,” Reese said, looking down at me and stroking my chin. “You’ve been quiet as hell all day. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

The couch cushion caved in as he fell down next to me. He stretched his arm out and drug the small coffee table across a thin, washed-out blue rug. I couldn’t quite distinguish the exact color because multiple stains covered the fabric. He stopped when it was close enough, stretched his legs, and propped his feet up on the table.

I wasn’t sure how to describe my relationship with Reese. Things were growing. We were spending the all of our free time together, and he sat with me at lunch everyday. He called me every night we weren’t hanging out to tell me sweet dreams. He’d also apologized about the bonfire disaster, telling me he only acted that way because he was drunk and pissed off that I was leaving with Dawson. He felt like I was cheating on him. I’d fired back with what he’d said about hooking up with other girls, but he insisted that he was lying because he was pissed. He swore he went home alone after I left. I believed him. Or at least I forced myself to believe him. But deep down, I wasn’t sure if I could trust him.

He’d fulfilled his promise of making me immune to the pain beating through my body, pulsating through my veins, and bleeding through my skin. He was taking me to parties, leading me into the world of alcohol and other things, until I felt it fade away. The pain had stopped and the blood was dried. Every ounce of torment had drifted away from my body. And I liked that. It helped. Until the feeling came back, and I’d run to Reese for another hit. I was latching onto him. I knew what I was doing was only a temporary fix, a Band-Aid covering my wound, giving me momentary relief to my agony. It wasn’t going to last forever. I knew eventually that bandages would strip away, and my lesions would be bared again, but I didn’t want to think about that day.

“My friend left,” I replied, eyeing the clear, plastic baggie he pulled from his pocket.

“What friend?” he asked, setting the baggie on the edge of the table and pulling a tattered magazine from the other side. He positioned the magazine on the table and set the baggie down on top of it.

“Daisy,” I answered.

He nodded in recognition. “Ah, the weird mute one.”

He’d met Daisy a few times when she’d actually shown up to school. She’d sit with me silently for a few minutes before saying she had to go and ditching me again. Reese said ‘hi’ to her every single time. She’d grimaced, and not said anything back, like he was carrying some contagious, life-threatening disease.

“She’s not weird,” I argued. I’d let him call her a mute because that wasn’t necessarily a lie. But I was the only one who was allowed to call her weird. No one else was allowed to insult her.

He shrugged and pulled out two, long white pills from the bag and began breaking them with his fingernails. I felt my mouth immediately go dry when he fished out a lighter and some type of membership card from his pocket next. He pushed his thick thumb against the release on the lighter a few times until a faint flame came through the metal. His focus stayed on the pills, heating them up, and crushing them up with the card.

“I think she’s scared of me,” he said, shrugging his shoulders like the fact he was crushing up pills was normal.

“She acts like that towards everyone.” I missed my best friend. I missed her so much. She used to be so full of life, and now all of that energy had been sucked out of her.

“Be right back,” he muttered, setting the magazine down and walking into the kitchen. I glanced over my shoulders, watching him shuffle through drawers in the tiny space, before turning my attention ahead, and taking a hard look at the crushed up substance on the magazine.

I jumped back when he sat down with a straw in one hand and a bottle of vodka in the other. “Where’d she go?” he asked, using the card to create a line before sticking the straw at the end of it and sliding it across the table as he snorted it up his nose.

I gulped and ran my hand over my own nose. That’s one thing I’d never tried with him. I’d drunk with him, smoked a few joints with him, and popped a few pills he’d given me, but I’d never snorted anything.

“Atlanta, I guess. She has an aunt who lives there,” I replied. Her mom had called me, telling me her dad said it was either she had to stop skipping school or he was sending her to live with her aunt. Daisy chose her aunt and left a few days later.

He finished the line, pulling at his nostrils, before breathing in hard and shaking his head. The first time I watched Reese snort pills was a few weeks ago at a party with Bobby. I was shocked, but the more he did it, the more I grew used to it. It still made me sick to my stomach, but each time it grew more familiar and made me more intrigued. He’d offered it to me once, but I’d declined, and he’d never brought it up again. At times, I wish he would’ve. I looked down at the magazine, noticing a few grains he’d missed, and wondered what it felt like doing it. He acted like he was at the top of the world when he was high. But I was too afraid to ask.

“She didn’t even tell me she was leaving. Her mom did,” I added. That’s what hurt me the most. I got nothing from her. No warning, no call, no text, nothing. It was like I didn’t matter to her anymore.

He pulled a rolled up joint from his ear and lit it up. He dragged it to his mouth, taking a large hit until the tip turned bright orange, and let out a cloud of smoke. “That was a pretty fucking bitchy thing to do. Atlanta sucks ass, babe, so she’ll regret that shit. I went there for a buddy’s show last year. Too many fucking people. Too much fucking traffic.” He took another hit and bent his wrist my way.

I blinked at the smoking joint before snatching it up and sticking it to my lips. The first time I smoked with him, we were in a room full of people, and I was scared that I would look stupid. So I did it. Not everyone snorted stuff at their parties, but everyone did smoke, so I joined them. I didn’t clarify it as a habit because I didn’t have the urge to do it all the time. I just did it when I was with him.

I let the smoke slide down my throat and fill up my lungs. My entire body began to tingle as every ticking nerve relaxed. I took another hit and slowly all of my troubles began to fade away with the smoke. I had no inhibitions. My sweaty hand gripped it, and I took another long draw. The buzz hit me hard this time causing me to cough. I shut my eyes as Reese’s laughter rang out, and he smacked my back.

“You gotta take it easy, love. You’re just getting used to it.” He gave me another pat on the back and grabbed the joint.

“Where are we even at?” I finally asked, taking a good look around the room. He’d talked me into skipping school today and hanging out with him. We were in a small studio apartment. Movie and band posters hung along the walls, held up by scotch tape, and wrinkled at the corners. We were sitting on an old, tattered blue futon, and the only thing that didn’t look like it was picked out of a trashcan was the big screen TV hanging on the wall across from us. In the opposite corner, a large mattress was lying on the floor without a bedframe, covered with sheets and un-made blankets.

“This is my bro’s place,” he answered, finishing the joint off, tossing the residue onto the magazine and kicking his feet back onto the table. “He doesn’t care if I crash here sometimes.”

“How old is he?” I asked curiously. We didn’t share much about each other. He’d only mentioned his brother a few times. We didn’t talk about our personal problems. We didn’t share our dreams or goals, most likely because we didn’t have any. Our time together consisted of hanging out at his friend’s houses, getting dinner, and going to parties. I’d invited him over to watch a movie once, but he spent the entire time sticking his hands up my shirt and slobbering all over my neck. That was the last time that happened. I needed alcohol before I was going to be able to handle that shit again.