Tailspin (Better Than You) (5 page)

              “We could ride together, if you want,” Hannah offers as we wait in line for our food. She sounds unsure of herself, as if she’s afraid I might say no. I doubt Hannah has ever heard the word
no
in her life.

              I smile down at her, feeling guilty for the way her eyes light up from my attention. “What time should I pick you up?” I say, even though what I really want is to tell her to stay home, to stay away from trouble because she’s too smart to end up screwed over for life.

              She flashes me a perfectly straight teethed smile. “Like, nine? The party’s at ten and we always get there a little early. You know, for the good stuff.” Her eye flutters in a practiced wink.

              “Nine it is then. Just text me your address.”

~~

Russell’s house doesn’t seem real, with its sprawling front lawn and backyard that is literally the ocean. We’re all standing around a huge bonfire, even though the air is humid and hot enough to suffocate, when Russell tells us to come in before everyone starts arriving. Once inside the kitchen, with ceilings three stories high, he hands each of us a tiny blue pill and says, “Bottoms up.”

I stall for a second, the pill weighing a thousand pounds in the center of my palm, because I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. If I refuse to take it, what will they think? But if I do take it, my judgment will be compromised. Not for the first time in the last two weeks since this assignment began, I have to remind myself that this is not real life. Not
my
real life, at least. In one quick movement, I throw the pill into my mouth and tuck it into my cheek, hoping that there will be a time, and soon, when I can spit it out. Russell smiles, pat me on the back, and then moves to the keg in the center of the kitchen and starts filling cups. While Russell is busy pouring beer and Hannah is occupied with gossiping to Lauren, I cough into my hand, discretely spitting out the bitter tasting pill. It’s about half the size that it was before, but I don’t have time to worry about that because Hannah is beside me again, her delicate hand wrapping around my upper arm.

Soon the house is filling up and Russell’s group, which consists of Hannah, Lauren, Thomas, and Melanie, move through the crowd, alternating between passing out pills and cups full of beer. I watch from the side, trying to memorize every single face and trying not to think about how, in just a few months’ time, I’ll be ruining their lives.

Someone bumps into my shoulder and I look over to see Russell settling against the wall beside me. “Where do the pills come from?” I ask him curiously.

He smiles out at the small crowd. “They bring them. We combine them in some bowls and then hand one out to everyone every couple of hours.”

“Sounds…dangerous,” I say.

“It’s not. We’re pretty careful about who we allow and what pills are brought. And it’s not like they’re taking handfuls at a time. It’s all perfectly orchestrated.”

Hannah makes her way through the crowd towards Russell and me, the small bowl in her hand now empty. Once in front of me, she extends her closed hand and smiles. “I saved you one.”

I clear my throat. “Um, thanks.” The roxie settles into the crease of my cupped hand, my mouth already watering at the thought of the bitter taste. Next to me Russell laughs and claps me on the shoulder, jostling my whole body. “Welcome to your first pharm party, newbie.”

I don’t get the chance to spit out the pill until almost ten minutes later, and by that time I’m already starting to feel the effects. My body feels numb, like I’m floating through the crowd as Hannah grabs my hand and pulls me towards the tightly packed room that’s being used as a dance floor. In fact, as I look at our entwined fingers I realize I can barely feel her hand at all. I’m finding it hard to concentrate on any one thing, like my training has taught me to do. I’m losing control and spiraling towards the point of giving in.

Hannah’s body moves slowly against mine in the tight space of the crowd. Instead of feeling individual things, like her hair brushing across my chin or the bare skin of her stomach against my fingertips, I feel her as a whole; warm, fluid, desperate. I don’t know if I’m moving against her, too. Not really sure if I’m pushing her away like I know I should be. Eventually she pulls me away from the crowd, towards a set of stairs that are being guarded by one of Russell’s friends. When he sees that it’s us, he steps aside and lets us by. It’s a bad situation, one I know I should be avoiding at all costs, but I feel like I’m trapped, possibly holding on to this life that isn’t really mine. It’s easier to pretend that Mason, with two parents and two brothers and a whole life ahead of him is actually me.

Hannah leads me into an empty bedroom, across the plush carpet and sits me on the edge of the giant four poster bed. She places a thin leg on either side of me, the small dress she’s wearing riding higher up her thigh. I can’t pull my eyes away. I can’t deny the fact that I want this, not necessarily her. It’s been a long time, and what could it hurt?

When I finally tear my eyes away from Hannah’s exposed skin, and look into her glowing blue eyes, I see what it could hurt. She’s young, and although it’s obvious she’s been in this position before, it’s also apparent that she just wants someone to love her. And I can’t be that guy. Not only because it’s against the rules set strictly by Chief, but because I’ll break her heart when all of this is over. Now I have to find a way to get out of this without hurting her feelings.

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath, stilling when I feel Hannah’s fingers run through my hair, shortly followed by her soft lips against my neck. My heart starts to speed up, my body hardening and preparing for something it’s not going to get. “Hannah,” I whisper, and it’s meant to be a warning but she takes it as an invitation. Her mouth moves on top of mine and I allow us to move together for a few moments. Until I pull away and grasp her face tightly in my hands, force her to meet my eyes.

“We barely know each other, Hannah,” I say, hoping she’ll see the sincerity I’m trying to convey.

“You don’t like me?” she asks, her eyes glassy and downcast.

“That’s not it. I just think…this is too fast.” I shrug my shoulders. “Sorry if that sounds old-fashion.”

She steps down from the bed, adjusts her dress and wipes the tears from her eyes. “I just thought…”

I stand and pull her into me, noting how I can almost wrap my arms twice around her tiny body.
I should buy her a cheeseburger.
“It’s okay, Hannah. We’ll just get to know each other, okay?”

She nods against my chest. “I’d like that.”

Crisis averted.

When we head back downstairs, Russell offers us both another pill, this one white and rectangular, but I pass, using the excuse that I have to head home soon. He shrugs his shoulders and pops it into his own mouth before moving towards the crowd and away from us. Hannah joins Lauren and Melanie in the kitchen and I take the opportunity to scan the faces of the kids surrounding me, wondering who exactly brought what and where it all came from. Most of the stuff is prescription, except for the ecstasy I saw floating around earlier. Stuff that can be found in medicine cabinets in normal houses. Even in my house. I make a note to flush all of the pills when I get home and walk into the kitchen.

By two in the morning, the party has fizzled out and everyone who is left is drinking the remaining beer around the bonfire outside. When I realize that Hannah isn’t next to me anymore, I start towards the kitchen, stopping in my tracks just outside the entrance. Russell and Melanie are bent over the counter, straws pressed against their noses and Thomas standing behind counting off. Without thinking twice, I pull my cell out of my pocket and take a few pictures as Russell and Melanie inhale the thin, white powder. When they’re done, I pocket my cell and walk in, trying desperately to steady my breathing and my shaking hands.

“Ready to go?” I ask Hannah, who jumps down from the counter and saunters over to me with red-rimmed eyes. She looks like a completely different girl than the one I walked in with, someone I would never want to get to know, someone very lost and alone.

We say our goodbyes and I drive her home, completely lost in my thoughts the entire time; thoughts that have my head spinning with uncertainties and doubts, questions and concerns. Suddenly the simplicity of the bar and the idea of finding a smaller, less expensive house doesn’t seem so bad.

7

December 7, 2007

I convinced the Chief to wait until after Thanksgiving to raid one of Russell’s parties; told him that the biggest party of the year will be held on the last day of school before winter break. What I didn’t tell him was that I was stalling, trying to find a way to make all of this less painful for Russell and Hannah, the two who will take the biggest fall. Because, yeah, they’re dealing prescription drugs and playing with cocaine, but they’ve been left to fend for themselves by parents who couldn’t give a shit and a cruel world that wouldn’t give them a break. I guess in a way I can relate to them and their tendencies to compensate, filling the loneliness in their lives with designer clothes and fake friends. Who knows what would have happened to me if I didn’t have Emily and Joshua.

As usual, I’m waiting in the driveway for Hannah to come out, staring at the giant house in front of me that gives no signs of housing living, breathing people. The door opens and closes quickly, and then Hannah walks to the passenger side, letting out a deep breath once seated next to me.

“God, I hate that house,” she says.

“Where are your parents this time?”

“I don’t even know. Swiss Alps maybe?” She laughs and shakes her head. “Just kidding. I made that up.”

Swallowing down the guilt and nervousness threatening to rip me apart, I ask, “What did you bring this time?”

I glance at Hannah and see her smile wide before putting my eyes back on the road. “Mom just got all of her prescriptions filled.” She digs in her giant purse and pulls out one bottle at a time. “Roxicodone, Alprazolam, Lorazepam…” she trails off and starts digging in her bag again. “And…hold on…here it is.”

From the corner of my eye, I see a ziploc bag half filled with white powder. My heart starts to beat faster. “That’s a lot,” I say casually, hoping she can’t hear the strain in my voice.

“Found it under Mom’s bed. She’s such a dumb bitch sometimes.”

“Do you think it’s a good idea to bring it into the party?”

She scoffs loudly. “Are you kidding? It’s a great idea. They’ll love it.”

I swallow down the urge to tell her everything. After a few minutes of driving in silence, she gasps dramatically. “Maybe Mr. Wilson will be there again.”

“Mr. Wilson?” I repeat.

“Yeah, he’s one of the English teachers. Really young, kinda hot. He came to a few parties last year but always keeps a real low profile.”

“Wait…he’s a teacher. At our school?”

“Yeah. Crazy, right?”

Chief will be thrilled,
I think to myself. To Hannah, I say, “Fucking stupid if you ask me.”

She shrugs her shoulders and then we sit in silence for the last four minutes of the drive. The house looks empty, but I know it’s anything but. We park around the side and walk through the kitchen door, where we’re met with hoots and hollers from the small crowd. Russell comes over and puts me in a headlock. “You guys are kinda late,” he says once he releases me, a sly smile on his face.

I run my hand through my hair, something I’m able to do now that it’s growing out from the buzz cut I had while in the academy. “Sorry, we got sidetracked.” It’s obviously not true, but I know it’s what he expects to hear. Hannah doesn’t correct me, because it’s what she
wants
them to hear.

“Well, let’s get this party started,” Russell yells, holding a cup in the air and cheering as everyone joins in.

Three hours later and the house is packed. It’s a bigger party than usual, with the end of the semester today and a month off from school. The kids are getting crazier, Russell is nowhere to be found, and Mr. Wilson actually showed up. I’ve been holding the same cup of beer since the beginning of the night, with strict instructions not to drink one single ounce of alcohol. My palms are sweaty as I dig my cell phone out of my pocket and send a text to Chief.

Good to go.

Three little words. That’s all it takes to bring the world down around these privileged high school kids. Less than thirty minutes later and the house erupts into chaos. Men in green and black uniforms come storming in, demanding that everybody stays where they are. Most of the kids take off running, and for the most part they get away. The team knows who they’re looking for and who they can’t afford to let out of their sights.

I have my back against the wall, watching as one of the men brings Russell down the stairs, hands behind his back. His lip is bleeding and he looks angry, but it’s nothing compared to the look he gets when he sees me standing there, seemingly unbothered and unfazed by the situation. And then the Chief strolls up next to me and places a firm hand on my shoulder. “Good work, son,” he says before walking away. My eyes never leave Russell’s murderous stare. Not even when Hannah says my name, wary and confused. She calls me again, and against my better judgment, I turn my eyes on her.

She’s sitting in the middle of the room, legs crossed and hands zip-tied behind her back. Her long blonde hair is disheveled, some of it plastered to her cheek with sweat. There are many things that have happened in my life that I know I won’t forget, and this is one of them; the way her eyes meet mine with betrayal and hurt. The way her chin quivers slightly as she tries to hold back the tears brimming in her eyes. The soft sound of her voice as she whispers, “I trusted you.”

I know that there’s nothing I can say in this moment that will help. There’s nothing I can do as the guys search every bag in the house and come up with bottles and baggies and straws and pipes. I don’t offer an apology, to Hannah, to Russell, to Melanie and Lauren who won’t meet my eyes or to Thomas who simply shakes his head as I walk past him. Instead I just walk away, out into the salty air and away from the guilt. As I approach the SWAT van, I’m greeted with handshakes and friendly shoves, and it should be enough to let me know that I’ve done the right thing. But it’s not. It never will be. All I can think about is how I wish Dad were here to let me know that everything will be alright.