day. He was making a sandwich in the Dining Hall before going into Monte Vista. And you know what he did? Typical Hutch. He wouldn’t talk to me. He said I hadn’t changed at all. He knew I was still using. Condescending prick.” Isla twisted a handful of quilt into her clenched fist.
“And then he committed suicide that night with pills,” Devon murmured.
Isla snorted in disgust. “Hypocrite. Typical Hutch working his magic: Look at my right hand, so you don’t see what my left hand is doing. And I fell for it. We all did.”
Devon nodded but her head was spinning. “Was Hutch alwaysagainst the Oxy? He never took it with you?” If Isla was using a drug like that, he had to know. Maybe that’s why Hutch had inexplicably reached out to Devon again a few days ago, across the parking lot and all that time. Her chest squeezed tighter. He’d wanted to get pancakes. Like that night,
their
night. Like he’d been in an Isla haze, and had finally emerged to see that Devon was there the whole time.
“At first, maybe a few times,” Isla said. “But then he wouldn’t touch the stuff. Talked about not wanting to pollute his body and other crap like that.” She chewed another nail and spat it onto the floor. She squinted at Devon. “You really didn’t get the memo, did you?”
“About what?”
“Look, I can say this because he’s gone. Otherwise I wouldn’t be telling you shit. But, Hutch was supplying pills to like half the school. Nothing like Oxy, he wouldn’t go that far, but Adderall, Ritalin, Wellbutrin, Xanax, Prozac, Valium. If you wanted to go up, down, or sideways, Hutch was your guy.” Isla’s mouth curled into a half-smile.
Devon adjusted her notebook in her lap, anything to hide her face. “Yeah, I heard something like that,” she managed as nonchalantly as she could.
“It wasn’t a big deal or anything. Just a little Adderall to help kids study or Valium to help them take the edge off the Adderall. Whatever they needed. But Hutch made sure they actually needed it. He knew how much everyone was taking, kept the doses low.” Isla shrugged. “I guess he was still kind of looking out for people, in his own twisted way.”
Devon’s chest constricted again. Images of Hutch—smiling at Devon, leaning against that dirt-covered car … toasting her with a Nutter Butter … they popped and were gone. Her mouth was dry and she had to lick her lips to speak. “So why’d he do it all? If he wasn’t taking anything himself?”
“I guess because he could. He had access. Most of the campus istaking this stuff anyways, so might as well bring a little quality control to the situation. He said it’s like that in Europe. At the bigger raves out there they have people who will test your ecstasy to see what it’s cut with. At least someone could make sure they’re taking stuff that doesn’t kill ’em. Ironic, huh?”
“Yeah. Definitely.” Devon picked at a loose piece of rubber on her flip-flops. Her head was swimming in a million questions, new shades of Hutch rising to the surface like bubbles.
“But at the end of last year he quit it all,” Isla continued. “Stopped dealing. Even stopped drinking coffee. Didn’t want to be controlled by it anymore. That’s why he wanted me to stop using too.”
Devon couldn’t think of an appropriate response. This version of Hutch wasn’t new to Isla. But to Devon he’d always been a faraway buoy in the choppy ocean of Keaton. Now, in death, the closer she swam to him, the further away he seemed.
“I don’t know what he got into this summer. But something changed. If we were still together this wouldn’t have happened. It just wouldn’t.” Isla sighed heavily. “What are we supposed to do now? How come he gets to check out and leave the rest of us to pick up the pieces? It just doesn’t seem fair. What about me? How could he do this to me?”
“I don’t know,” Devon said.
I really don’t know. But I have to keep swimming
.
D
“And then he committed suicide that night with pills,” Devon murmured.
Isla snorted in disgust. “Hypocrite. Typical Hutch working his magic: Look at my right hand, so you don’t see what my left hand is doing. And I fell for it. We all did.”
Devon nodded but her head was spinning. “Was Hutch alwaysagainst the Oxy? He never took it with you?” If Isla was using a drug like that, he had to know. Maybe that’s why Hutch had inexplicably reached out to Devon again a few days ago, across the parking lot and all that time. Her chest squeezed tighter. He’d wanted to get pancakes. Like that night,
their
night. Like he’d been in an Isla haze, and had finally emerged to see that Devon was there the whole time.
“At first, maybe a few times,” Isla said. “But then he wouldn’t touch the stuff. Talked about not wanting to pollute his body and other crap like that.” She chewed another nail and spat it onto the floor. She squinted at Devon. “You really didn’t get the memo, did you?”
“About what?”
“Look, I can say this because he’s gone. Otherwise I wouldn’t be telling you shit. But, Hutch was supplying pills to like half the school. Nothing like Oxy, he wouldn’t go that far, but Adderall, Ritalin, Wellbutrin, Xanax, Prozac, Valium. If you wanted to go up, down, or sideways, Hutch was your guy.” Isla’s mouth curled into a half-smile.
Devon adjusted her notebook in her lap, anything to hide her face. “Yeah, I heard something like that,” she managed as nonchalantly as she could.
“It wasn’t a big deal or anything. Just a little Adderall to help kids study or Valium to help them take the edge off the Adderall. Whatever they needed. But Hutch made sure they actually needed it. He knew how much everyone was taking, kept the doses low.” Isla shrugged. “I guess he was still kind of looking out for people, in his own twisted way.”
Devon’s chest constricted again. Images of Hutch—smiling at Devon, leaning against that dirt-covered car … toasting her with a Nutter Butter … they popped and were gone. Her mouth was dry and she had to lick her lips to speak. “So why’d he do it all? If he wasn’t taking anything himself?”
“I guess because he could. He had access. Most of the campus istaking this stuff anyways, so might as well bring a little quality control to the situation. He said it’s like that in Europe. At the bigger raves out there they have people who will test your ecstasy to see what it’s cut with. At least someone could make sure they’re taking stuff that doesn’t kill ’em. Ironic, huh?”
“Yeah. Definitely.” Devon picked at a loose piece of rubber on her flip-flops. Her head was swimming in a million questions, new shades of Hutch rising to the surface like bubbles.
“But at the end of last year he quit it all,” Isla continued. “Stopped dealing. Even stopped drinking coffee. Didn’t want to be controlled by it anymore. That’s why he wanted me to stop using too.”
Devon couldn’t think of an appropriate response. This version of Hutch wasn’t new to Isla. But to Devon he’d always been a faraway buoy in the choppy ocean of Keaton. Now, in death, the closer she swam to him, the further away he seemed.
“I don’t know what he got into this summer. But something changed. If we were still together this wouldn’t have happened. It just wouldn’t.” Isla sighed heavily. “What are we supposed to do now? How come he gets to check out and leave the rest of us to pick up the pieces? It just doesn’t seem fair. What about me? How could he do this to me?”
“I don’t know,” Devon said.
I really don’t know. But I have to keep swimming
.
D
Similar Books
