Chapter Eighteen

Confusion expressed on her face, Lorna slowly grabbed the plastic bag from Nicky's hands for closer inspection. She noticed the fine white powder that lumped together at the bottom of the bag and grew more concerned. "What is this, Nicky?"

"It's, um, heroin," the words slightly stammered out of her. It was rare for Nicky to ever have such a hard time getting words to come out in sentences. She always felt perfectly fine saying whatever was on her mind, but there with Lorna—one of the only people she really cared about—she found speaking to be a nerve-racking predicament. The idea of disappointing her formed an ache in her chest.

Heroin. Heroin? Lorna tried to make sense of all that was before her. She wasn't too familiar with what exactly heroin was but knew it hadn't exactly been a good thing. She put the baggie aside and reached over to cup her hands warmly around the other's cheeks. Her eyes searched over Nicky thoroughly, she brushed her fingers lightly along her cheeks. "Where did ya get that, hon? How much did ya have of it?"

Nicky momentarily shut her eyes at the gentle touch. Such a tender gesture immediately had a guilt rise within her. After a few silent minutes, she reopened her eyes and stared back at Lorna with a slightly faint shame hidden in her own. "Just this girl in my new school—I was having a shitty day, I hate my dad's girlfriend and she just so happened to ask me if I wanted this baggie so I took it. I only had a little of it, kid."

Crossing her arms over her chest, the brunette sucked in a sharp breath. She wasn't mad but certainly didn't like the idea of this new friend Nicky had—what kind of friend would encourage this kind of behavior, she antagonized in her head. However, she refrained from saying anything; she knew she'd be a hypocrite to do that when she, too, may or may not have been taking part in unhealthy behaviors. But she didn't care about herself—she cared more for Nicky's well-being, the last thing she wanted was for her to do anything that could harm herself.

"Who is this girl that gave it to ya?" She questioned but uncrossed her arms and instead wrapped them around Nicky. "How come you don't like his girlfriend? Is she not nice?"

"Eh, her name's Boo—she's a senior and has a random stash of heroin, I guess. I mean I shouldn'ta taken it, but God, I needed something to take the edge off and she didn't have any cigarettes so I just accepted the heroin instead."

Lorna swallowed hard, tightening her arms slightly around her. She remembered her mother always telling her to stay away from drugs—how dangerous they were. The thought of Nicky using drugs terrified her; she couldn't stand the idea of something happening to her from heroin or anything else it could lead to. "Did ya do the heroin because of your dad's girlfriend? Why don't ya like her, hon?"

Retrieving the baggie from where Lorna placed it, Nicky put it back in her pocket. She sighed. Opening up about her home life was not something she particularly enjoyed. "Not just that," she shrugged, though relaxed cautiously into the other's embrace. Another small sigh tumbled out of her. "My father is literally with a gold-digger. I mean she's like probably only four years older than me. It's gross. But all he does is give everything to that damn woman. I'm just over it."

It wasn't hard for Lorna to hear the suffering in her voice. An ache formed in her chest. "That's awful, hon. She's not mean to ya, is she?"

Nicky chortled at the question. The woman barely spoke to her; more like she was a selfish—entitled—bitch, she thought to herself. "Nah—she hardly gives me the light of day, kid. She's too busy fucking my father for money to even realize I'm his child. Hell, my dad hardly remembers that I'm his child too. I really just wanna fucking move out. It's clear I'm a nuisance to him just like I am to Marka."

Lorna stayed silent for a moment, watching as Nicky grabbed at her pocket again and slipped the baggie from it. She cupped her hands around her face once more and leaned her forehead delicately over the other's. "Please, no more of that. Not tonight, anyway," her voice delicately pleaded, one of her index fingers drawing soft circles around the flesh of Nicky's face. "Ya may be a nuisance to your parents but you're not to me—you're the best friend I could ever even dream of, honey. I wish you had better parents because you deserve to be told how important you are."

"Important is a thing I am not, kid."

"That's not true," Lorna murmured, continuing to trace comforting circles around her cheeks. It hurt her heart tremendously to hear Nicky say that about herself. A blatant lie that was the fault of her own parents—the two people who were supposed to love her unconditionally.

"It is true. Believe me. If I was important, my parents wouldn't fight over who is burdened with me living under their roof. But it's fine, I'm used to it and I'm over it," the redhead responded deadpanned while holding the small bag in front of her. She sighed. "At least this stuff right here doesn't abandon me, yeah?"

Lorna felt a lump in her throat. She reached a hand over to try to pry the bag from her hands. "You're not using anymore of that stuff today, hon. I won't let you. Let's just—how about we just relax on my bed, okay? Ya want some water or food or anything, Nicky?"

Shaking her head at the suggestion, Nicky only moved her hand towards the other's that was wrapped around the precious bag of heroin. The teeny bag with finely grated white powder her body so heavily yearned for at that moment. All she wanted—needed—was that damn heroin. "Come on, kid, give it back. That's mine."

Placing the bag up on her dresser, out of reach from her friend, Lorna shook her head and carefully pulled the older girl up off the floor and helped her onto the bed. "You're not getting it tonight, hon. I'm sorry but I care about you and I don't think heroin will do anything good for ya. Let's just lay here for a bit and not talk about doing drugs, okay?" She gently laid Nicky back against the mattress and wrapped the comforter warmly around her.

Lorna rested on her side, reaching a hand over to tenderly cradle around the redhead's cheek. "Did ya drive here?"

The tender gesture nearly brought her to tears. It was so foreign for Nicky to be cared for in a manner such as what Lorna was doing for her at that very moment. She bit the side of her mouth to keep her emotions from bubbling to the surface. "Course' I drove here, kid, how else would I get here?"

"But you're obviously high from the heroin…Nicky, hon, ya coulda got in an accident or something. Please, please don't do anything like that again. If you're gonna get high, at least, please be safe. I don't want anything to happen to ya," the brunette whispered, emotion easily emphasized with each word she spoke. She threw her arms tightly—desperately almost—around Nicky, pulling her close. Lips pressed warmly against her forehead.

"Just, just lay your head on my chest and try to sleep, Nicky. I'm real worried about ya. And I can't let anything bad happen to you. You're too important to do this to yourself. I know you might not think you're important—but-but honey, you are real real special to me. And Red—you're important to her, too. We can-we can be your family, Nicky."

Nicky happily obliged, allowing her head to rest atop the smaller teen's chest. She was too dazed and disoriented from the heroin to even have the energy to object anything Lorna was saying. But she definitely didn't miss the feeling of warmth rush through her at the gentle thumping of her friend's heart beating in her ear. For the first time, in a long while, Nicky felt a sense of security. A sense of empathy and compassion—two things both Marka and Les lacked. Lorna showed her both of those things, naturally.

"I love you, kid," was the last thing she said before sleep finally overtook her.

The words were undoubtedly heard by Lorna. Though she wasn't sure if it was the heroin talking or not, she took those words to heart. Lorna lay there beside her, holding Nicky's head against her chest, and combed her fingers over and over through her hair in the most delicate of ways. Hearing those three words come from her lips, Lorna brushed a soft kiss on the top of her head and exhaled a large breath. She smiled softly to herself and carefully placed her mouth right above the other's ear. "I love you too, honey."


The sound of staggering footsteps creaking against the wooden floor outside her bedroom instantly woke Lorna from her slumber hours later. Moonlight shined in through the window behind her bed. She still had Nicky's head resting on her chest and the thought of having to move her brought a diluted disappointment over her. However, she'd rather not have her uncle come barging in with her friend there. So, with a grudgeful sigh, Lorna carefully moved the other's head over to the pillow. She tiptoed her way towards the door and cautiously opened it enough so that she could poke her head out.

Her uncle stood outside the door, slamming his fists against the plaster of the wall. To avoid waking her friend, Lorna quietly made her way out of the room and, dreadfully, into his presence. She could smell the alcohol from a foot away. The scent confirmed that it must have been a hereditary issue. A drunken father and uncle. She sighed. Consumed in her mind, the sensation of hands grabbing viciously at her neck came as a terrifying surprise to her. She sputtered to catch her breath.

"Ya never cleaned the fuckin' blood, little princess," Mendez growled. He pushed her up against the wall, his hands still wrapped snugly around her neck. The pupils in his eyes were dilated and glaring darkly ahead of him into Lorna's terrified ones. The large amount of alcohol he consumed heavily impaired him but not enough to stop him from nearly strangling his young niece to death. When her lips faintly started to blue, he finally released her and threw her against the wall.

In the bedroom, Nicky lay in the bed jolted awake from the vibrations of Lorna's being slammed against the wall on the other side. A headache lurked in the back of her head, she ran a hand through her messy curls and carefully got up to find what was causing all the noise. She quietly slid her way out the door of her friend's room into the hallway, her eyes widened as they focused on what was happening right in front of her.

Lorna crouched against the corner of the wall, trying to push herself back up. An unfamiliar man hovered over her as he yelled obscenities at her. Albeit being somewhat hazy from the earlier heroin usage, Nicky quickly acted and put herself in between the two of them. She did her best to assist Lorna up from the ground. Her big brown eyes peered across at the man with a noticeable fury seeping from them. "Don't touch Lorna," she ragefully seethed at him, tightening her arms around her friend.

"And just who the hell do ya think you are little girl?" Mendez questioned, returning her dark gaze.

Nicky cautiously began moving away from him while keeping her arms firm around Lorna's waist. "Lorna's best friend and I don't know what ya were doing to her but I'm not letting it continue. She's coming with me."


The pair of teens sat in Nicky's car parked on the curb in front of the Morello house. Moonlight brightly lit the sky and poured in the windows of the vehicle. The brightness from the moon shinning through made it easier for Nicky to examine Lorna's body. When she caught a glimpse of faded handprints on her neck, she felt her breathe catch. She instinctively reached a hand over to place delicately onto her cheek. Eyes fixed their soft gaze directly into the smaller girl's.

"What happened, kid?" She inquired in an unusually hushed voice. The haziness from the heroin seemed to have subsided. Now, all that mattered, was figuring out what exactly was going on with her best friend.

An uncomfortable pang sat in the bottom of her stomach. Lorna still hadn't fully processed all that took place in the span of only minutes. The walls were closing in on her. She opened her mouth to gasp for air. That wasn't supposed to happen. Nicky was never supposed to find out about her demented uncle. She was never supposed to find out that her life was anything other than normal. No, she thought, she wasn't going to allow that incident to change anything. She wasn't ready to let go.

Brushing her fingers lightly along the frame of the window beside her, Lorna finally had the momentum to speak words once more. "That was just my uncle—he was mad because I forgot to clean the stairs after school. I'm sorry he woke ya, hon."

The comment did nothing but add to the already bubbling ferocity that previously claimed her. Nicky gritted her teeth to keep it from showing—it wasn't directed at Lorna, however, the words she said infuriated her. She loathed the thought of her friend minimizing such a serious situation. She caressed the tips of her fingers soothingly along the outline of her cheeks. "Mad or not doesn't justify what just happened to you, kid. Don't apologize. You did nothing wrong."

"You know, now it makes sense."

Lorna squinted her eyes inquisitively. "Now what makes sense?"

"Why ya were so scared the other night when ya thought someone was in the house," Nicky easily answered. She held her gaze, moving a finger over to gently push a strand of hair from the other's eyes. "Has your uncle been like this the whole time?"

Without even a second of hesitation, the younger teen shook her head copiously. She wasn't letting her in any closer. Not now; now certainly wasn't the time to be letting anyone delve into her chaotic personal life. "No, hon, he's usually really nice. He just, uh, had too much to drink and I did forget to clean like I promised. It's fine, no need to worry about it. How are you feeling? Are ya less high now?"

"Fine? No, Lorna, it's not fine. Not at all. He had his hands around your neck, I see the damn handprints on it. That is not even close to being fine. Why are you so adamant on pretending it's okay? Your uncle coulda killed ya, kid."

Lorna exhaled sharply and gently reached her hand over to cup around one of Nicky's. "I know, hon, but it wasn't purposefully done. My uncle just got too drunk and didn't really know what he was doing. Nothing like that ever happened before, I swear. And it won't ever happen again."

The words she just heard strengthened the irritation that already emanated within her. Nicky took a moment to collect herself, knowing that getting upset with the younger girl wouldn't be of any benefit to either of them. It wasn't even Lorna that she was upset with anyway, she deciphered. "Lorna, I don't know if I believe you. You have a tendency to downplay everything," she softly pointed out and switched the positions of their hands so that hers was covering the brunette's.

"I'm being honest. Can we drop it please? And where are we going?"

Nicky crossed her arms over her chest and gave her a stern stare. "I care about you, Lorna, and I really hope you are being honest. I don't want anything to happen to you," were the words she settled on stating after mentally contemplating for a few moments. She finally turned the key in the ignition to start the car before looking back at Lorna. "We're going to Alex's house, she doesn't live far from here."


Just as Nicky had previously mentioned Alex's place wasn't far and the drive only lasted a quick five minutes. Peering out of the car window, Lorna focused her eyes on the small house perched on the tiniest lot in the neighborhood. It didn't look to have a basement or second floor. A quaint, petite, house with an endearing ether. She followed the redhead's lead, unfastening her seatbelt and getting out of the car. As they made their way to the front door, she glanced up at the sky to see it lit up with millions of stars. It was a satisfying sight.

The wait didn't last long; within a few seconds, the door was opened up and the pair of them entered inside. A warm scent filled the air—cinnamon or maybe a nutmeg—and immediately brought a comfort to Lorna. She glanced around the room; a smaller, yet cozy, living room with a wooden archway that led to the dinning room. Cottage vibes was the impression it gave her. The three settled onto the dark grey suede sectional sofa that sat in front of a wood-stained coffee table.

Alex, who fixed herself a cup of tea seconds before the two arrived, sat with one leg crossed over the other. She pushed her glasses up slightly and gazed between the two with an inquisitive expression. "So, what brings ya both here? At nearly midnight I might add."

"Well, I rather not be at home with my father and his little trophy of the month. I was just gonna hang out with Lorna at her house but—"

"We were just in the neighborhood and decided to stop by," Lorna swiftly interjected, shooting a dark glare at her friend. She didn't need her personal business being shared with a person she hadn't even known that well. The fact that Nicky had witnessed what she did was enough; she refused for anyone else to be let in on her secret.

Shaking her head frustratedly, Nicky crossed her arms over her chest as she bit her lip. She returned the other's stare, loathing how easily she seemed to brush things under a metaphoric rug. "Mhmm, yeah, we were just in the neighborhood and decided to stop over in the middle of the night. No big deal," she said, waving a hand to emphasize to the petite brunette the absurdity of it.

The black-haired woman sipped her tea while curving her eyebrows intriguingly. "I could cut the tension with a knife," she pointed out with a light chuckle. There was blatantly something going on between the two teens, however, it wasn't her place to question them on it.

Lorna kept quiet. She hadn't been about to play into the redhead's hands. Instead, she focused her attention back on her surroundings. A few salt lamps took up space on each of the end tables on either side of the couch, books neatly placed on the shelves beneath the surfaces. Only rendering the place even cozier than before. In an odd way, it reminded her of the times she and her mother would go to her Nonna's house. The same cozy cottage vibe settled there.

"This is a real cute place—it's like a little cottage," Lorna finally said.

Alex smiled at the comment. Anytime someone complimented the house she felt a warmth rush through her. The house her mother took almost an entire decade to build and now, with her unfortunate demise, she inherited it. To hear others appreciate the craftmanship as she and her mom did always molded the corners of her lips into a smile. "Thanks. My mom had it built years ago, she worked really hard to finally have the dream house she'd wanted since forever."

Intrigued by her statement, Nicky curved an eyebrow. "Your mom built this? Damn, that's awesome. Does she not live here anymore?"

"I mean she didn't build it physically but she drew up what she envisioned and hired a construction crew to turn it into something real," the dark haired twenty-year-old stated, her shoulders slightly bouncing up in a shrug. She felt a breath of air catch in her throat for a moment before it passed. Her mother was a sore subject. "My mom passed away a year ago from cancer."

Cancer. Alex's mom passed away from cancer. Cancer. Her mom died from cancer. The words echoed fervently through Lorna's mind. It was as though she was transported into a glass cage; her mind wouldn't stop. She continued hearing the same few sentences over and over, like a broken record that she couldn't shut off. Her heart-rate sped up and she felt like she couldn't move, couldn't speak. Caner. Mom has stage four liver cancer, Lorna. Liver cancer. She shut her eyes, rubbed at her temples, trying to rid herself of the repetitive thoughts. However, the gesture only worsened not only her racing mind but also her visual view. All she saw was the face of her mother, glassy eyes staring into her soul, while rattling breath sounds deafened her ears.