Author's Note: I was just on vacation for a week, which is the reason for the slow update - Jackie had this written last Saturday, but I was unable to post it. Sorry! Anyway, we'll be back to our regular postings now :)
"You can't just agree to work with me and blow me off last minute!" Alexa yelled.
"I know—I'm sorry. It's just—" I started to explain.
"Just what? You've been coming up with excuses for the past week," she stated sternly.
It was so weird seeing such a beautiful girl get mad. It was one of those things that made me feel extremely uneasy inside.
I paused while trying to come up with a good excuse.
"Fuck this," she yelled while storming out.
"Alexa, wait!" I called out. Surprisingly, she stopped in her tracks and turned around impatiently.
"What?"
"I—uhhh—" my voice drifted off as I stared into her remarkably blue eyes. Without thinking, I leaned over and kissed her.
Needless to say, she pulled back immediately. I waited patiently for her reaction.
"What was that?" she asked, her eyes wide with confusion.
"Sorry, impulse," I responded.
To my surprise, she smiled and leaned in again, reaching her arms around my head and leading me towards the room I'd been sleeping in due to the outcome of recent events. At first, I was exhilarated; but then, slightly disappointed. As wonderful as Alexa was, I wasn't sure I wanted to be making out with her, especially after everything that had just happened with Amanda.
The thought of Amanda made me stop instantly.
"What's wrong?" she asked, looking at me with wide eyes. How the fuck was I supposed to turn down such a pretty face?
"Nothing, it's just—" I started.
"Just… Amanda?" she asked with a smirk.
"How do you know about Amanda?"
"Bumped into her the other day," she explained while sitting back down on the couch, "gave me the stare of death." She laughed.
"Yeah but how do you know her name?"
"Dude, the entire Marianas Trench fan base knows her name," she laughed again, "seriously, have you even heard of Google?"
"I'm sorry…"
"Don't worry; I get it," she said while standing up. "Maybe it's best if I found someone else to help me out with this record."
"Don't be ridiculous," I rolled my eyes, "I can still help you…"
"Oh shut up, Josh," she retorted, "you and I both know that's not possible, given the circumstances."
"I'm sorry…"
"Stop apologizing!" she said while giving me a huge grin, "I'll be fine, don't worry!"
We started walking towards the door when suddenly, she turned around.
"Oh, and I'd quit if I were you," she said, eyeing the plastic bag on the table.
"What are you talking about?" I asked, suddenly panicked.
"You don't think I know the signs? Trust me, I was a heroin addict a few years back and it's no fucking fun," she explained.
I was completely silent.
"Just...do us all a favour and quit while you still can, okay?" she continued.
"I'll do my best…" my voice trailed off.
Alexa kissed me on the cheek and began walking towards her car.
"Drink lots of water!" she shouted from the parking lot. "It really helps, trust me!"
I waved goodbye and closed the door behind me. I felt a pang of sadness rush over me as I walked towards the plastic bag. She must've underestimated how far in I was; otherwise, she wouldn't have suggested such a stupid method of recovery. If Alexa was able to recognize the signs, then that could mean Matt might as well.
I shook the thought of Matt discovering my secret out of my head. There was no way I could see him, at least not for a really long time. I grabbed the plastic bag and headed out the door. However, just as I stepped into my car, I saw Mike's van pull in. As quick as I could, I slammed my foot on the accelerator and zoomed out of the parking lot, hopefully before Mike even noticed it was me.
Filled with relief, I decided I'd try and find the winding road where the remains of the fort Matt and I built were. As I was speeding past Ian's neighborhood, I slowed down by his apartment. A group of about five tall guys dressed in black appeared to be surrounding a familiar, scrawny figure. I immediately hit the brakes. My car screeched to a stop and I got out and walked over.
"HEY!" I shouted. Everyone stopped.
"What do you want, faggot?" said one of the guys, holding what I could make out to be a handgun. My heart started pounding, and I did my best to cover up my shock and fear.
"That's Josh Ramsay to you, asshole," I spat. "What the fuck is going on here?"
"Josh, get the fuck outta here right now," said Ian, a warning in his eyes.
"Awe, Ian. Is this your boyfriend?" laughed one of the guys.
"Look," I started walking towards the guys, "just tell me what the fuck is going on here and I'll handle it."
"Casselman here owes us money!" shouted another one of the guys.
"Doesn't know when to quit, does he?" laughed another.
I looked over at Ian in disbelief, slowly piecing it together. Since when did Ian get involved in gambling? And why hadn't he told any of us that it had gotten this bad? For some reason, I didn't even give a shit anymore. I didn't give a shit about anyone anymore. I didn't even know why I was helping him out.
"Alright," I tried to calm the guys down, "Ian will pay you back by the end of the week, okay?"
"Yeah, he fucking better," said the guy with the gun. The gang of guys started walking away, leaving just Ian staring at me with shock and gratefulness.
"Josh, I—" he started. I didn't need to hear this. All I fucking needed right now was a nice long hit.
"Yeah, whatever man," I said while walking towards my car. It looked like he was trying to say something, but I tuned him out completely. The faster I got to the winding road, the better.
The remains of the fort looked like they'd been tampered with, leaving me to believe someone had been there. But as usual, I couldn't bring myself to care about who might have been there. Without thinking twice, I sat down on the damp grass beside a large tree, and unravelled the plastic bag.
Just as I was taking out my lighter, I completely froze. Maybe Alexa was right. I'd already gone down this path. I knew what it was like to be sober, and it felt fucking amazing.
I shook the stupidity out of my head. She didn't understand, nobody understood. Even if I wanted to stop, I wouldn't. This was the only thing that kept my head somewhere else. It prevented me from thinking about Amanda, or any painful memories for that matter. I don't know what caused me to stop taking my depression medication; it just sort of happened one day. After countless weeks of returning to bad habits such as throwing up and cutting, I finally remembered a more effective way out. Heroin helped me put my head in a far better place. It was a soothing kind of self-destruction.
I leaned back on the tree I was sitting near and inhaled as deep as I could... Before I knew it, everything went black—just as I liked it.