Chapter 21 #3
And not being able to purchase my fix from the friend I’d made.
“I need a distracción (distraction).”
I needed not to think about pain, the drugs, or the man who left me here.
“Okay, I can help with that.”
Instead of letting her lead the conversation, I quickly asked, “How is cheer?”
She looked so cute in her uniform the day they had to wash the vomit from my hair. I’d always loved American cheerleaders. As a child, I thought girls in scanty dresses were only a thing on TV until I was old enough to understand it was very real.
“Cheer camp is cool. I have a few colleges looking at me.”
“That is so good. Education is important.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“You don’t sound too happy…”
“It’s not that. I love cheer. My father put me in it when I was young because he wanted me to gain social skills.
It was my aunt’s idea, and although I hated it at first, I’d learned to appreciate it.
I’ve fallen in love with it. But… I don’t know if I want to do it on a collegiate level.
My friends and I have plans on going to college together.
Bella has already decided to transfer from JBU if we decide to go elsewhere.
I don’t want to be stuck at cheer practice and at games when my girls are out living their best lives without me.
It’s bad enough that I’m missing the action over here when I’m at camp during the day.
Plus, my daddy is rich. I don’t really need scholarships.
They can go to someone that actually needs the money for school. ”
I remembered when I thought the same of mi padre (my father).
He was rich, from what I knew then. I could just get up, go swipe a credit card, and party until my knees were sore to forget my troubles.
My papa had the money for me to do so. But he hadn’t had it like I thought he did.
Now that I knew that, I wondered how my life was sustained with his large debt to many other cartels.
“That’s commendable of you… Wanting to give up the scholarship offers so others can use them to go to school.”
“Yeah… And I also want to go on the road with Flexer when I’m on break. Like how Missy does with Essex. You know Essex, right, the rapper?”
“Si.”
I was versed in American music. Plus, Shio worked out to his raps religiously. He was one of Shio’s close friends from what I gathered when they spoke on the phone.
“Flexer is also a rapper. ?Si?”
She’d played his music for me, and it also felt familiar. The clubs back home mostly played more American rap than Latin and Hispanic music to cater to tourists.
“Yeap. He’s one of the best out. He likes me a lot. I like him too, but I’m in high school…” She chuckled. “I’m stuck here in Jagoda Bay while he’s on the road, living his best life.
“I’m not saying I want to be with him all day long because I still want to be with my girls, but I want to be able to move freely.
School is a non-negotiable because I will be getting that degree on time, but cheer will just take up more time from me being a rapper’s girlfriend and me being my friend’s wing woman.
It’s just… a lot of decisions I have to make. ”
I grinned, though it hurt. Her problems were so cute.
Here she was, spoiled, rich, talented, and loved immensely, and was battling with wanting to quit cheer so she could be with her boyfriend and friends more.
She was telling all of this to a woman locked in a room by a man she wanted to be with, but instead, he was ignoring her because she liked to do drugs.
“May I give my… Ooo—”
“Opinion?”
“Si… si.”
“Of course. Please tell me I’m not crazy because I know if I tell my parents I want to quit cheer, my daddy will be hurt, but he will be okay with my decision. But my mama? Avenue gonna ram my head between the washer and the dryer.”
“You’re not loco (crazy).”
“Good. Good.” She sighed.
“But you shouldn’t quit cheer.”
She groaned. “Solanaaaaa!”
“Unless it is something you really want to do, Mahzeyah. I know you and your friends love each other, and I love that you all will be going to college together. But you can still cheer and hang with them. They can sit in on some of your practices and come to all the games. At least the ones at your university. Do not ever think you are missing out on something. You are not, okay? It will be there. Your friends will be there.”
At her age, I wished I were committed to a sport and a friend group. The girls were living a teen sitcom, and I’d been enjoying spending time with them, even if it was through a door.
“And Flexer?”
Licking my lips, I thought of the right words to say. “I… I have never had a boyfriend, Mahzeyah. I did not—no. I do not think I had a boy to like me at your age. I… looked different from everyone, and even if I blended, my father would have never allowed it.”
I shook my worries from my head because I was beginning to fall into that deep, dark, endless hole.
“I can’t really speak on a subject I am not privy to, but I do understand wanting to be near someone that you like.
It is almost as if not having them hurts.
When you are not around him, you cannot focus. You cannot eat. You cannot sleep.”
“See, exactly! Like, I need to be in my nigga’s skinnnnnn! Oh my gosh! Yes.”
“Umhm. But still, do not quit cheer.”
“Really, Solana?”
“Yes, really. He is a world-famous rapper. Is he not?”
“Ion know about world, but he famous.”
“He can make time to see you. You do not always have to stop your life to see him. Girls need things. Hobbies. Friendships. We need things outside of the love of a boy. Cherish your things. When all you have is the boy, as soon as he does something to hurt you, whether it be intentional or not, it will not only hurt, but it will be the worst pain you have ever felt. I do not say that to be negative because Flexer may be a wonderful boy.”
“But you’re saying I shouldn’t be all about a boy. Same stuff my parents be sayin’.”
“And they are not wrong.”
“And Flexer is my mama’s favorite rapper, so I know she ain’t biased. Uggghhh! I’m sick.”
“You need medicine?”
“No, girl, no… I’m sick, like… basically saying I’m caught between a rock and a hard place, and ain’t nothing I can do about it but accept fate.”
“Hmm.”
“Gosh, Solana.”
Maybe if I had something, anything, I would not have been so deep in with drugs and so deep in with the first man that showed genuine interest and care. She needed her things, her own things. I was happy to hear that she wanted to go to school, so I shifted the subject from the boy.
“What will you pursue in school?”
“Psychology. I’m getting into addiction studies and recovery.”
“Fitting.”
“Yes. I want to help people. I want to open my own clinics. And I will too.”
“Si. You will, chica.”
“And one day you’re going to come and speak out about your recovery, but tell them I helped you, not Italian.”
I chuckled. “I will. But you no like Italian?”
“No… He’s annoying. I mean, he cute and all, but I got a whole rapper.
What I’ma do with Italian? I mean, he ain’t broke or nothing, and be calling himself buying me stuff, but he just my friends’ lil’ cousin.
Plus, he seems like he would be too obsessed if I ever gave him a try. I’m straight. I like my space.”
“But I thought you wanted to be in your boyfriend’s skin?”
“And do. But he’s Flexerrrrr. It’s a difference.”
Riiiing Riiiing
“Here. Take this.”
I finally lifted my body from the ground, almost feeling lighter after that talk. Mahzeyah’s pink manicured hand with gold bracelets was through the slot. When she opened her hand, it revealed a pill.
“This is another ibuprofen. They are for my cramps, but since my mama put me on birth control, I don’t need them as much.”
“It’s okay…” I was eager to feel better, and the last pill had made me feel almost normal, but I didn’t think it was a good idea after the robot said I could swap one addiction for another.
Riiing Riiiing
“Take it, Solana. It’s nothing but strong Tylenol. You can’t get addicted… Do you feel… full?”
“Yes.” My eyes were on the singular pill as if it were my beacon of hope.
“That’s the weight of the craving. The weight of the guilt from wanting to indulge. If you want to feel weightless, take this. I’ll be back later. This is my mom calling.”
She turned her hand over, dropping the pill before the slot closed.
I got on my hands and knees, crawling toward the pill.
Once I was hovering over it, I scooped it in my hand and tossed it back.
Grabbing the half-full bottle of water, I swallowed it down and tossed the now-empty plastic aside.
Having the urge to pee, I crawled into the bathroom, each movement sending shockwaves of pain through my limbs.
Pushing the door open with my left palm, I paused before I could make it to the toilet.
My body was tired, and I knew if I didn’t feel so worn down, I would actually feel the pain in my knees from crawling around.
My pee would have to wait until I gathered myself before attempting to lift my body from the floor.
Resting my head on my forearms for a second, I looked back up to see if there was a bottle of water near me and within arm’s reach.
The journal was there, as if waiting for me to get back.
Forgetting about the water, I scooped it up into my hands and opened it.
I needed a distraction while waiting to see if the pill worked.
I’ve had bad days with my family. Awful ones. But today was downright horrific. I’m so ashamed. And what makes matters worse is the one thing that brought on the chain of events is the one thing that I’ve just done before writing today.
“So you’re telling me no?”