Track 17
ALANA
“Thanks for picking me up, P.” I climb into the passenger seat while Parker moves his gym bag to the back.
“Yeah, yeah.” He sighs as I close the door. He gives me a once-over before his eyes move to the windshield. “I really wish you wouldn’t hang out there.”
“You hang out there.” I place my backpack at my feet. He looks at me pointedly before he puts the car in drive and hits the gas.
“I don’t like you there without me.”
“Why not?” I pull my seat belt over me and click it in place. “They’re your friends.”
“They’re not good guys. And you’re sixteen, Lana. You shouldn’t be hanging around twenty-one-year-olds, okay?”
I roll my eyes and set my gaze out my window.
Parker’s head turns toward me. “Do you hear me?” he asks again. “Lana—”
“Okay, okay, don’t go all commander on me.”
“It’s officer to you, young lady,” he says with a side smirk.
Excitement pricks around the edges of my heart, shaking my belly with nerves. “You got in?!” P keeps his eyes on the road, but his smirk grows. I gasp. “You got in!”
“Yeah,” he laughs.
“P! This is amazing! Oh my god, I knew you could do it!”
“Yeah. Not bad for a street kid.”
“Oh, please. You were always more than a street kid.”
My cheeks burn from smiling so hard. “Officer Parker John Dimerez,” I beam, turning my face to my hero. “Dad is gonna be proud.”
“I don’t care if Dad’s proud. Just want to make you proud, little sister.”
“I’m very proud, big brother. It took a lot of work to get to where you are, and I couldn’t be prouder of you.”
“I’m proud of you, too,” he says. “I’m proud of you for getting that scholarship to UT. That’s huge. And you did that all on your own, Lana. It’s amazing.”
“I wasn’t on my own. I had you.”
“Nah,” he breathes. “You would’ve done it no matter what.”
Parker’s cheeks perk with his smile and emotion washes over me, the thankfulness of having him for a brother filling my heart and soul.
I think of everything I have because of him.
All that I’ve learned from him. How truly lucky I am to have been gifted him as a brother.
I could never have done this life alone.
“What?” He laughs after a minute.
I shrug. “Thanks for being my brother, P. I really love you.”
“As if I had a choice,” he chuckles, but when his eyes find mine, they’re as warm as ever. “I love you, too, weirdo.”
“Hey, if I’m weird, it’s because I learned it from you. Just like I learned about romance novels—”
“Hey, don’t tell people that.”
I laugh. “And rock music. And jazz. And how to parallel park without crying and stalling out.”
Parker barks out a chuckle. “You cried one time.”
“Three times,” I correct. “But I appreciate the deletion of the others from your memory.” He laughs again. “You’re always there for me. Always sticking with me through my crazy."
“True. Very true.” He glances over at me with his big brother gaze. “You stick with me, too.”
“Always have, always will,” I sing. He winks, and my heart is warmed by a love only a brother could give.
My eyes sting, and my throat gets tight.
“I’m gonna miss you, P,” I say with a feeling I can’t really place.
It’s sadness mixed with pride and a little bit of something else I’m not really sure of. Fear, maybe.
“I’ll be back in a week. We just need to get the place settled, and then I’ll come back for you, and everything will be good, okay?”
“I know.”
P and Jamie are leaving tonight for St. Augustine. No one knows but me—because I’m going with them. Dad has only gotten worse, and P says we can’t stay here any longer. I don’t deny it, but I still feel bad to leave our dad behind.
“He doesn’t need us, Alana,” P says, answering my thoughts.
I shake my head, picking at my chipping nail polish. “I know, it’s just…”
“He’s never gonna get better. He doesn’t want to. I know the accident isn’t his fault, but everything that’s happened since then is.”
“He didn’t want to get addicted to pills, P. He tried not to take them.”
“I know.” He pauses thoughtfully. “But that doesn’t excuse everything else.
” I turn my head to face him. My eyes lower to the long, white scar along P’s ear.
The one he got when Dad cracked him over the head with a table lamp.
My gaze shifts to the circular burn marks scattered up and down his arm—all the times our father put a cigarette out on him.
I’ll never let him hurt you, he used to tell me. I’ll always keep you safe.
A knot forms in my throat, and I have to swallow it down. P is right. We can’t stay here.
“I’m scared to be home without you. I’m scared to be alone,” I admit with a shiver in my small voice.
“One week, Lana. I promise. It’s gonna go quick, trust me.
You just keep your head low. Go to school and straight to your room, okay?
You lock the door like I taught you, and you just stay quiet in there.
He’ll probably forget you’re even home.” P takes a deep breath.
“Seven days. And then we’re free.” His ice blue eyes glance over, and I nod in acceptance.
We take a few turns down backroads, different from our usual way home. A left down a winding street, then a right onto another. We’re a few minutes into the drive before I realize I don’t recognize these roads.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“Derek said there’s a checkpoint on Duclos Ave. to watch out for.”
“Mm-hmm, and of course, Romeo can’t make it home without a kiss from his Juliet.” I watch the smile break onto P’s face, and my heart flutters for him—for the love I know he’s in. For the real life romance I get to see him have. For the happily ever after he’s so very close to.
“Shut up,” he mutters, but there’s fondness in the words.
I giggle, tucking my feet under me as I settle more comfortably into my seat beside him. Nat King Cole’s “What’ll I Do” takes hold of the stereo.
I’m humming the opening tune when striking red and blue lights illuminate before me. Parker begins to slow the car.
“What the hell,” he whispers. “What are they doing on Avery? Derek 100 percent said Duclos.”
Check points are becoming a new norm in our side of town. The city’s attempt to keep the roads safe from drunk drivers and petty theft offenders, as our new mayor claims.
P starts explaining what’s going to happen.
How we will be asked to step out of the vehicle, possibly empty our pockets, et cetera.
I can barely make out the rest of his words as panic strikes through me.
Deafening fear takes over, and my heart begins to hammer against my ribs as I watch the police officer guide our car into the inspection area.
“Lana? Did you hear me?”
“Huh?” I snap my wide eyes to Parker and watch his confused glare morph into the same fearful expression.
“Alana,” he says coldly, knowingly. “What happened at Derek’s?” His tone is flat. His eyes move quickly out the windshield to the officer headed our way then back again. “Alana!”
I mean to answer, but the fear has my throat locked tight. My eyes prick with emotion, and my lips quiver.
“Alana,” Parker breathes, leaning toward me. “What. Happened. At Derek’s?”
“I…” I can’t speak. I’m so scared. I don’t want to go to jail. “I…” The officer is at the car in front of us now. I’m running out of time. “He gave me some pills. For Dad. To help him.”
“Why?”
“I-I asked him for them.”
“You asked Derek to get you pills for Dad, are you insane?! What were you thinking?”
“He said he could help! That all I had to do was hold them for a little while, and when he sold what he needed to, I could give the rest to Dad.” My voice cracks. My hands shake uncontrollably.
“That’s called being a runner, Alana! He made you a part of his drug deal!” His jaw clenches, and he lets out an angered breath. When he speaks again, his voice is steady, calm but furious. “What kind of pills?”
“I-I don’t know. Stronger ones."
“Fuck, Alana! You can’t just take something when you don’t even know what it is!” He curses. He never does that around me. “How many?” I try to answer, but I’m still in shock, trapped in my fear. “How many, Alana!”
“A hundred,” I cry, racking my brain as I try to remember the name of what Derek gave me. “He said it was something with an F. He said it was…” The light goes off in my head. “Fentanyl.”
Parker’s eyes widen in terror, and he releases an anxious breath as he drags a hand down his face. “Holy fuck.”
“I was just supposed to hold them! I didn’t know! Derek promised me a bunch of money after he sold them. It was supposed to help us. I thought it would help us…” Helpless tears fall down my cheeks.
Parker white knuckles the steering wheel and sets his eyes into the distance. Tears continue to spill from my eyes as relentless worry sets in. Because I know I’ve messed up. I know from the tension in P’s expression and the worry in his eyes that I just royally screwed us.
“P—”
“This is what’s going to happen, Alana.”
My heart pounds sharply in my chest.
“You’re going to give me the pills. I’m going to put them in my pocket. And when I get out to do the checkpoint, you’re not going to say a word. If anyone asks you why you’re upset, you tell them you failed a test at school, and I was upset with you.”
“What test?”
“Any test, Alana!” I flinch at his unfamiliar harshness.
“Listen to me. Do exactly as I say. When the officer goes to his car to check my paperwork, you reach down for the stuff in your bag without looking down and pass it to me under the dash. Do not lift your hands. Do not dip your head. Do you understand?”
I nod.
The officer approaches Parker’s window, bending down to meet him at eye level.
“License, registration, and insurance,” the officer says.
“Yes, sir,” Parker responds. “It’s over in the glove box. Is it okay if I reach to get it?”
The officer nods once. “Go ahead.”