hammered.
I walked to the front door and knocked, just in case
his mom might still be home. Trip answered.
“What the hell, man?” he freaked, rushing me inside.
“What if my mom had answered the door? She’d freak if she saw you
this way!” He tossed his hands up and waved them around in an
exaggerated motion as he spoke.
I walked past him and towards the spic-and-span, cut
straight from the pages of a magazine, kitchen and grabbed a bottle
of water from the fridge. Trip continued to rant and rave behind me
as he followed. I took a swig and turned to face him.
“Holy shit, your lip is massive!”
“Feels like it,” I said, pressing the cold water
bottle against it, not caring enough to wipe away the dribbles of
water sliding down my chin first.
He grimaced. “What happened?”
“Do you really need to ask?” I countered.
“Calvin.”
I nodded.
“What for this time?”
I shifted on my feet. “Sticking up for Jade against
my mom.” I kept my one good eye down so he wouldn’t notice my
dilated pupil. He’d have a panic attack if he realized I was
tweakin’.
Trip liked to smoke weed and drink, and occasionally
he’d pop a pill or two, but it was all in moderation, and all in
the hopes of gaining some attention from his parents, even if it
was negative. Trip’s parents were too busy being socialites
climbing their way up the social ladder to actually be parents.
For Trip, to be caught smoking a joint in the pool
house of the country club was one thing, snorting a line or getting
caught with something hard was quite another. If he got caught with
something like that, he’d be shipped away to the nearest rehab and
afterward be sent off to a boarding school of his parents’ choice.
Which meant, I needed to play it cool until my high wore off.
“Maybe you should put some ice on that,” he
suggested, pulling a clean rag from a drawer. I took another swig
of water as he fixed up an ice pack. “There’s a first-aid kit in
the bathroom. I’ll get it.” he said, handing me the ice pack.
I pressed it gently to my left eye. Trip came back a
few minutes later holding a clear case.
“Damn, man, hurts me just to look at you!” he said
setting the case on the counter beside me.
“Thanks,” I mumbled.
Trip meant well, but I didn’t see what good a
first-aid kit would do for me. I was bruised up and swollen. Not
exactly something that could be covered up or fixed with a
band-aid. I opened it up anyways and sifted through its contents
for his sake. I grabbed out some Neosporin and dabbed some just
under my eye where the skin had broken and across my busted
lip.
“I think my dad might have a few pain pills from last
winter when he sprained his ankle skiing,” Trip said, and I
couldn’t help but chuckle. “What’s so funny?” he wondered.
“Nothing, it’s just those wouldn’t have lasted a day
at my house, and here it is the end of April and they’re still
sitting on a shelf untouched. Sometimes I forget how straight-laced
you really are.” I smiled, as much as I could without stretching my
lip too far.
He huffed a little, obviously my statement had
aggravated him some.
“If I’d taken any of them he’d have known it was me;
that’s why I haven’t touched them, not because I didn’t want
them.”
“Chill, it’s cool. I get it.”
“Want one or not?” he demanded.
I did, but I didn’t. I knew better than to mix too
much shit in my system at once.
“Nah, man. I wouldn’t want you to get into any
trouble,” I said sincerely, and his shoulders visibly relaxed.
I took the ice pack off my eye and touched it to my
throbbing rib cage, hoping again it wasn’t broken. I’d know for
sure in the morning if I woke up unable to breathe.
“So, your parents out for the night or just a few
hours?” I asked, shifting on my feet again, still zooted but trying
my best to hide it.
“Most of the night. We’ll probably hear them stumble
in around two or three like usual,” he
I walked to the front door and knocked, just in case
his mom might still be home. Trip answered.
“What the hell, man?” he freaked, rushing me inside.
“What if my mom had answered the door? She’d freak if she saw you
this way!” He tossed his hands up and waved them around in an
exaggerated motion as he spoke.
I walked past him and towards the spic-and-span, cut
straight from the pages of a magazine, kitchen and grabbed a bottle
of water from the fridge. Trip continued to rant and rave behind me
as he followed. I took a swig and turned to face him.
“Holy shit, your lip is massive!”
“Feels like it,” I said, pressing the cold water
bottle against it, not caring enough to wipe away the dribbles of
water sliding down my chin first.
He grimaced. “What happened?”
“Do you really need to ask?” I countered.
“Calvin.”
I nodded.
“What for this time?”
I shifted on my feet. “Sticking up for Jade against
my mom.” I kept my one good eye down so he wouldn’t notice my
dilated pupil. He’d have a panic attack if he realized I was
tweakin’.
Trip liked to smoke weed and drink, and occasionally
he’d pop a pill or two, but it was all in moderation, and all in
the hopes of gaining some attention from his parents, even if it
was negative. Trip’s parents were too busy being socialites
climbing their way up the social ladder to actually be parents.
For Trip, to be caught smoking a joint in the pool
house of the country club was one thing, snorting a line or getting
caught with something hard was quite another. If he got caught with
something like that, he’d be shipped away to the nearest rehab and
afterward be sent off to a boarding school of his parents’ choice.
Which meant, I needed to play it cool until my high wore off.
“Maybe you should put some ice on that,” he
suggested, pulling a clean rag from a drawer. I took another swig
of water as he fixed up an ice pack. “There’s a first-aid kit in
the bathroom. I’ll get it.” he said, handing me the ice pack.
I pressed it gently to my left eye. Trip came back a
few minutes later holding a clear case.
“Damn, man, hurts me just to look at you!” he said
setting the case on the counter beside me.
“Thanks,” I mumbled.
Trip meant well, but I didn’t see what good a
first-aid kit would do for me. I was bruised up and swollen. Not
exactly something that could be covered up or fixed with a
band-aid. I opened it up anyways and sifted through its contents
for his sake. I grabbed out some Neosporin and dabbed some just
under my eye where the skin had broken and across my busted
lip.
“I think my dad might have a few pain pills from last
winter when he sprained his ankle skiing,” Trip said, and I
couldn’t help but chuckle. “What’s so funny?” he wondered.
“Nothing, it’s just those wouldn’t have lasted a day
at my house, and here it is the end of April and they’re still
sitting on a shelf untouched. Sometimes I forget how straight-laced
you really are.” I smiled, as much as I could without stretching my
lip too far.
He huffed a little, obviously my statement had
aggravated him some.
“If I’d taken any of them he’d have known it was me;
that’s why I haven’t touched them, not because I didn’t want
them.”
“Chill, it’s cool. I get it.”
“Want one or not?” he demanded.
I did, but I didn’t. I knew better than to mix too
much shit in my system at once.
“Nah, man. I wouldn’t want you to get into any
trouble,” I said sincerely, and his shoulders visibly relaxed.
I took the ice pack off my eye and touched it to my
throbbing rib cage, hoping again it wasn’t broken. I’d know for
sure in the morning if I woke up unable to breathe.
“So, your parents out for the night or just a few
hours?” I asked, shifting on my feet again, still zooted but trying
my best to hide it.
“Most of the night. We’ll probably hear them stumble
in around two or three like usual,” he
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