Chapter Twelve #3
Swirling, swirling. I could barely breathe.
I found a napkin in my glove box, half-assed wrapped it around my thumb, and started the car.
A vision of Veronica’s guilty-but-not-exactly-upset-about-it look flashed in my mind and I slammed my left arm into the door, again and again.
I might have gone for the window itself, but the most beautiful lilac scent wafted from nowhere.
It enveloped me like a blanket, and I sucked it in desperately, trying to calm the rush of adrenaline coursing through my body.
As it dissipated, I opened my car door again, searching for the source, but it was gone as quickly as it had begun.
I slammed the car door, heaved a sigh, and hit the steering wheel hard.
I made my way down Central, streetlights splashing against my hood, nearly ran a red, then checked my speedometer a block later and saw it hanging fifteen over the limit.
I’d never driven drunk and I’d only had about two swallows of wine at Grace’s, but it struck me that this was what it probably felt like.
I tried to calm down, tried to slow my heartbeat and my thoughts, but it was all I could do to steady my speed.
I could see Veronica’s face and Ally’s and hear Ally’s voice, her condescending tone.
We’d been friends. We’d been good friends. And Veronica. God.
Then, it was all gone.
The complete void of darkness and silence birthed chaos.
My headlights glanced off the window of someone’s house, and though I hit the brakes with everything I had, there was a sick scraping sound and I could tell I’d hit something.
I stared ahead, blinked hard. I had no idea how I’d gotten to where I was, and I seemed to have forgotten how to breathe in the process.
My hand, still wrapped in the napkin, was shaking as I shifted into park.
Forgetting to turn on my hazards or check my rearview mirror, I stepped gingerly out onto the street.
The breeze caught me right away, turning the sweat that had come from nowhere ice cold.
Two wheels were up on the sidewalk, and I’d managed to take down a No Parking Any Time sign.
It was still attached to the ground, but bent at an oblique angle, the vertex stuck under the bumper of my car.
The right headlight casing above it was broken, but the airbags hadn’t deployed, I was in one piece, and everything was okay.
Everything was okay. I swallowed hard, tasting the tang of metal.
A woman in a blue SUV pulled over close to where I stood. “Do you need some help?”
More than you could ever know. I shook my head and tried to smile.
“I’m good. Thank you.” As she continued on her way, I ran my tongue over my back teeth.
It tasted like the silver fillings I’d had as a teenager, or maybe like sucking on coins as a little kid.
I couldn’t quite place it and I had no idea where it’d come from.
I didn’t understand what had happened. Had someone run me off the road? Had I swerved to avoid a dog or squirrel and lost control of the car? How could any of that have happened without me noticing? I’d never had a car wreck that was my fault.
The nothingness. There had been a moment of nothing.
It had surely been just a second, but the lights had flickered, the sound had stopped, the power to existence had been cut. I fell back against the hood of the car, heart pounding formidably, sweat soaking through my shirt and pants. Oh my God, I’m off my meds.
It took some doing, but I finally managed to extract my car from the post. By the time I got going again, my stomach hurt bad but the screaming, spinning, furious anger was gone.
In its place were thick reminders of how fucking stupid I’d been.
You should have just left when you saw her.
You should have pretended like nothing had happened.
You didn’t deserve her anyway, you fuckup.
Can’t do anything right. Can’t ever do anything right.
I drove home slowly, the words moving through my head, banking on each side like a fucked-up screen saver.
I stumbled from the car to my house, catching myself on my porch column, then the door.
I couldn’t make it stop. I couldn’t make it stop.
I moved like a zombie, tripping over the living room chair on my way to spring Ollie from his crate.
He almost knocked me over in his excitement, but I barely noticed, just moved through the kitchen to the back door, grazing the doorframe in the process.
I can’t. I’m so fucked up. I’m so hideously, gloriously fucked up and I hate myself and I just want to hurt.
I can’t feel anything, I just need to hurt.
Please God, let me feel something. I hit the wall with my whole forearm, knocking something off the other side.
I turned around once, twice, as if I couldn’t find the bathroom in my own house.
I didn’t turn on the lights. I didn’t want to look at my own reflection.
The nightlight glowed golden near the sink though, so I snatched open the medicine cabinet before I could see myself.
I slid my hand across the shelves, knocking pill bottles and tweezers and my contact case out and into the sink.
Some things bounced onto the floor. Where is it?
God damn it, where is it? I hid the razorblade sometimes, when I was in a decent mood, and I’d managed to stymie myself. Please God, where the fuck is it?
I couldn’t find it. I gave up, sat on the edge of the tub, and forced my hands through my hair. I closed my eyes tightly and willed everything to just stop. That was when I heard a knock on the storm door and a voice in the other room.
It was Lisa. Lisa, back from the beach. “Sam? You in here? Your door was open.”
I tried to respond twice, but nothing came out. I was quite sure I didn’t want to see her, but I finally managed to say “hey.”
“Hey. Can I let Ollie in?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
I said a silent prayer that Ollie would leave me alone. Fortunately, I heard him slurping water in the kitchen. Lisa, on the other hand, poked her head into the bathroom. Her words were hesitant. “You okay?”
There was no point in lying. “Not really.”
She made a move toward the light switch, but didn’t touch it. Surely she could see the mess I’d made of the medicine cabinet. Instead, she pointed to the edge of the tub. “Is there room for me?”
There was space, but I knew she was really asking permission. “Yeah.”
“So what’s going on?”
“I don’t even know where to start.”
“What happened to your car?”
“I don’t really know.”
“Did it happen tonight?” She nudged a little closer to me.
I knew she was searching for the scent of alcohol. “I had half a glass of wine. I’m not drunk.”
“Okay. So what’s going on?”
I let out my breath slowly. If I was going to lose someone else, it might as well be tonight. “I’m off my meds.”
Lisa nodded evenly, like that made sense. “What kind of meds?”
“Antidepressants and mood stabilizers and antipsychotics,” I whispered.
“That’s a lot to go off of.”
“You can leave now if you want.”
Lisa’s voice was still completely matter-of-fact. “Nope. Not leaving. How come you’re off your meds?”
“I can’t write when I’m on them.”
“Not at all?”
“Well, sort of, but it’s hard. So hard. Nothing comes out right. And when I have a deadline or it just gets too much…”
Lisa shrugged like that made sense. “You go off your meds.”
“Yes.”
“How long ago did you stop taking them?”
“Sunday maybe? Saturday?”
“And what happened tonight?”
Yeah, that. “I ran into Veronica at a party and I kind of made an ass of myself.”
“Just in front of Veronica or—”
“Nope, pretty much in front of Veronica and Ally and God and all our friends. I don’t think I’ll be seeing them again.”
“Okay. And your car?”
“I was crazy upset and out of control and then it all went dark and…It happens sometimes when I’m off my meds. I don’t know, really.”
“Okay. A little alarming. And the other guy?”
“The no parking sign on Central at Greenbriar. It wasn’t a person or anything.”
Lisa nodded, then was quiet for what felt like a long time. “And what were you doing in here?”
I couldn’t tell the truth. It was too much. I felt my thumb throb and opened my hand. “Looking for a Band-Aid I think?” I’d lost the napkin in the car at some point and there was quite a bit of blood smeared along my hand and fingers.
“Well then.” Her voice was a little surprised. “I can help you with that, but I’m going to need to turn on the light.”
I felt my shoulders drop, defeated. “Okay.”
“No, sit down. I’ve got it.” She moved with absolute assurance, finding the box of Band-Aids on the floor and moving a few bottles to run a washcloth under the faucet.
She sat back next to me, and wiped the blood away gently, blotting in a sure way she must have practiced on one hundred tiny skinned knees.
She’d wrapped a bandage around my thumb by the time she asked. “How’d that happen?”
“I was a little overzealous with my wine glass.”
Now, a small smile appeared on her lips, and she did nothing to extinguish it. “Oh for fuck’s sake.”
“Well.” I dared look into her eyes for the first time that evening. “Did you have a good trip?”
“It was amazing. I missed you.”
My heart skipped a beat. “I missed you too. You look wonderful.” She looked tan and relaxed and so happy and the words slid out of my mouth before I could think.
“You do too.” With that, she leaned close and kissed me.