Chapter 9

James laid in his bed pretty much the rest of the weekend, silencing his phone and ignoring all his calls and texts, except one from his Coach telling him he could finally start hockey practice again).

He dreaded the end of the weekend. He dreaded going to school on Monday even more than last week, because he knew his friends would be cornering him and worrying about him and asking him why he didn't answer their texts or calls. But the news that he could play again lifted his spirits a bit. His doctor had cleared him last week, saying that his face was healed.

James hadn't asked for more pills, because the doctor had clearly said his face was healed. Logan's question echoed in his head.

You know it's not just your face that needs to heal, right?

Sure enough, on Monday morning, just as he'd thought, the second he stepped foot into the door, Kendall showed up next to him. "James!" He all but yelled, falling into step next to the taller boy, who avoided his gaze and kept walking.

He wasn't expecting Kendall to grab him by the shoulders and shove him into the lockers. It wasn't hard like he had done with Ozzy, but it nonetheless caught him very off guard. "Dude! What's the matter with you?" James exclaimed, pushing Kendall's hands off him.

Kendall glared at him. "What's the matter with you, James? You snapped at Logan on the phone and then ignored the rest of our texts and phone calls the rest of the weekend! And when we came to see you, you pretended you were sick and couldn't see friends!"

James sighed, almost rolling his eyes. He just wanted to be left alone. "I just didn't feel well and I didn't want to talk, is that a crime?" He shot back. To be honest, he had felt a bit sick to his stomach. He threw up again and had to go to the bathroom… a lot. He blamed it on guilt from taking that pill from the Garcia's, and maybe eating something not so good, though he barely ate a thing that weekend.

Kendall let go of him, stepping back. His green eyes softened and his shoulders dropped a bit. "James, what's wrong with you?" He asked, but his angry tone was gone. His voice softened and was sad, concerned, filled with pity. "Please, man, we just want to help you."

James glanced up, into Kendall's green eyes, and then back down to the ground. "I'm fine, Kendall. I'm sorry about this weekend. I was just feeling… tired. It hasn't been easy… since the accident." He admitted. Which was the truth, but he said it more because he knew it was what Kendall wanted to hear. This is what he had to say to get Kendall off his back. He had to show vulnerability, so Kendall would stop thinking he was hiding something.

Kendall's nodded in understanding. " Of course not, James. That's a hard thing you went through. But that's why we're here, dude. We're your friends. Please, just let us help."

James shrugged. "There's nothing you guys can do… I just have to get over it on my own. Just give me a couple of weeks, I'll be okay."

Kendall didn't look 100% convinced, but he let it go and let James walk to class.

James let out a breath.

He would get over it. But not on his own.

James knelt by his locker, trying to look like he was busy. He told his friends he would meet them at hockey practice. Today was the first day he could actually get back on the ice. He'd been working out and stretching with the team to keep his body in shape to play again. The regular season was about half over already, and James was itching to get back and help their team make it to regionals, and then state. This was going to be their year.

But first thing was first. He had to find something that was itching even more in his mind- the pills.

And his locker buddy, JT, was going to help him do just that.

JT was a lacrosse player. Tall, lean (or scrawny, just depended on how you looked at it), and quick on his feet, JT was a great player but also a great dealer.

Of course, it was no big secret JT did drugs. All the students knew it, but the teachers had never found out or just didn't care enough or didn't have enough evidence to get him into trouble for it. James could recall plenty of times when some kid would awkwardly come walking up to JT and whisper something to him. Then the two would walk off, JT pocketing a good amount of cash from the kid when he returned. JT implicitly trusted James to not tell, and James didn't care enough to say anything. It was none of his business. Until now.

James hadn't just spent the whole weekend ignoring people. He had been thinking. Thinking about how to get ahold of those pills, how to get enough just to last him past this injury. He just needed enough to get himself over this bump he was feeling.

He just needed it to get better, and then he was done.

He had the money (all those hours working meant his parents had a hefty supply of money at his disposal), and all in cash. He had access to his family's credit card and could withdraw cash from the ATM a couple of blocks down the street. Nobody would know a thing. James hoped the pills he was looking for weren't too expensive.

He stood up, waiting until he saw JT. The brown-haired boy nodded at him and opened his locker.

James cleared his throat. "Hey, JT. I got a favor to ask." JT turned to look at him, an intrigued look on his face. Just based on James's tone, he probably had already assumed what he was going to ask.

"What's up, man?"

James shifted, closing his locker. "I need some, uh, some pills."

JT raised his eyebrows, his full attention on James now. "Wow, pretty boy. I didn't expect this from you." He said, smirking.

"It's just for now. It's just for my accident and… stuff." James finished lamely. JT chuckled, a spark in his eye.

"Dude, it's okay to just relax and enjoy yourself sometimes. I get it, man. You don't have to come up with some lame excuse."

James frowned. It wasn't an excuse… he genuinely needed it. It wasn't an excuse. "How much are they?" He asked instead, getting straight to the point. He didn't know how much trouble getting caught doing this could get him into, and he just wanted to buy what he needed and get out of there.

JT raised an eyebrow at him. "Follow me. And don't look suspicious." He added, though that may have made James act more suspicious. He followed the boy out through the back entrance of the school and down a paved walkway. JT led James through and behind a dumpster.

James turned the corner and saw a couple of guys sitting around. A strange smell wafted around him, kind of like dirt but a lot stronger and a lot smellier. He saw a guy holding a cigarette, and assumed the smell was coming from that.

JT kicked some dirt onto the boy sitting nearest them, who looked up disinterestedly. "Guys, we got a new one." JT said. Another kid looked up; James recognized him from his math class last year but didn't remember his name. He always seemed half asleep and never spoke to anyone.

The boy coughed, wiping a hand over his mouth, and stood up. "James Diamond?" He asked, like the name was a foreign language on his tongue. He said it again, like he was trying out the word for the first time.

James cleared his throat uncomfortably. He didn't like the way the boy's voice slurred like he was drunk, the way his eyes couldn't seem to focus.

JT seemed used to it, though. "Yes, Dylan, it's James Diamond. He's here for 'painkillers'." He said, emphasizing the word like a parent talking to their child.

Dylan nodded, rustling through his jacket. "Which ones?" He asked absentmindedly.

"Uh, Norco."

JT turned to look at him, holding out a hand for Dylan to stop what he was doing. "Woah, woah, woah. Norco?" James nodded, feeling totally out a place. One of the guys sitting behind them hacked up something and spit it on the ground.

"That's like, candy, man. No hardcore dealer is gonna carry that." Dealer. The word echoed through James's head. Drug dealers were bad. But somehow, James was here, talking with drug dealers, and it didn't feel bad.

It felt right.

JT sighed, like James had disappointed him somehow, and turned back to Dylan. "Give him 5 of oxy." He said, like they were ordering burgers at a restaurant.

Dylan nodded, obedient as a dog to its owner. He brought out a plastic bag with 5 tablets in them. Small, white pills. JT grabbed it and handed it to James. "25 dollars, please." He said, smiling.

James gaped at him. "25 dollars? For 5 pills?" His painkiller prescription had been free through his insurance, so he definitely did not expect these pills to be so expensive.

"A dollar a milligram, my friend." James frowned; he felt uncomfortable being called JT's friend, even though he was selling him the pills he needed.

"So this is… 5 milligrams? Is it the same as Norco?" James asked, feeling kind of like an idiot. In a way, he was an idiot here; he knew nothing about milligrams or oxy or anything they were talking about.

JT wrapped an arm around James. "You got a lot to learn, buddy." He chuckled.

A/N- Hey guys, sorry it's been a while, I've been on vacation. But I'm back now and more motivated to write, so hopefully the chapters will be updated more quickly. I have chapters already written up, I just need to edit and make sure everything is cohesive and makes sense haha.

Acoustic version of Not Giving You Up tomorrow! I just love their raw voices, they always sound so good and harmonize so well together.

- AS