JENNIE
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—Six years ago
"Lisa." I peek my head into the treehouse. "You up here?" I ask, even though I've already spotted her lying on the floor, her hands tucked behind her head in their usual position.
She doesn't move as I climb the rest of the way into the rickety structure.
"Lisa," I repeat, crawling over to her.
She's eerily still but I can hear her breathing as I settle in next to her.
"Hey." I gently shake her shoulder.
She starts, her eyes popping open seconds before they come to me. They're bloodshot. Too bloodshot. The bright blue color muted by the red streaks lining the whites of her eyes.
"Hey," she grumbles, her words slurred and uneven.
"Are you drunk?" I ask, a little taken aback seeing how it's only three in the afternoon.
"What?" Her forehead crinkles. "No, of course not." She sits up and I follow suit, angling my body so that I'm facing the side of her.
It wouldn't be the first time I've found her drunk over the last year. Not that it happens a lot, but it's been more frequent as of late.
"You sure?" I draw back, catching the smell of alcohol on her breath.
"I mean, I may have had a drink or two at Rob's, but I'm not drunk." She forgets how well I know her.
"A drink or two?" I question. "Is that why your eyes are so red I can barely see any white and you smell like the floor of a cheap bar?"
"How do you know what the floor of a cheap bar smells like?" she challenges, trying to distract me. She's always trying to distract me.
Things have gotten strange over the last few months. Lisa's behavior has been erratic and unpredictable. I find myself questioning if she's being honest with me about everything that's going on in her life.
I know she's struggling. I know things with her dad are really bad. So bad that most nights she sleeps up here rather than going home. I've gotten into the habit of bringing her dinner every evening, though this last week she's been more absent than she has present.
"I'm guessing that's what it would smell like," I finally answer. "Are you okay?" I tack on, not waiting for her to comment.
"Yeah." She runs her hand through her messy, unwashed hair. "I'm fine."
Lies. Lies. Lies.
You would think after all this time Lisa would realize I know when she's lying.
"Are you sure? You've been gone a lot lately. Jack and Bams said they haven't seen you outside of school in weeks. And I saw your report card, Lisa. You're failing almost every class. What's going on with you?"
"Nothing. There's nothing going on." There's a bite to her voice. "And how did you see my report card? Were you looking through my bag?"
"I took your phone in the other night to charge it. When it was done I put it back in your bag. I saw your report card sitting there, and yeah, I looked at it. Since when do you care if I go through your bag?"
"Maybe a little fucking privacy would be nice."
I draw back at her statement, emotion clawing its way into my chest.
"We've never hidden things from each other before. Why does it matter all of a sudden now?" My chin quivers, but I fight back the tears that threaten to well behind my eyes.
I'm not an overly emotional person and I'm certainly not much of a crier, but with Lisa? She can make me cry at the drop of a hat. Sometimes out of happiness. Other times out of frustration. And more often times than not, when she hurts my feelings.
"It's just… Fuck, Jen. Maybe I don't need you policing me all the time."
"Policing you? Is that what you think I'm doing?"
"It sure as hell feels like it sometimes. I don't need this. I don't need you judging me."
"I'm not judging you."
"You have no idea what I'm going through right now."
"No, you're right. I don't. Because you won't talk to me." My voice breaks.
"You just… You wouldn't understand."
"Try me. Talk to me." I reach out and grab her forearm. "Tell me what's going on. Is it your dad? Did something else happen?"
"It's always my dad. It's school. It's my absentee brother. It's my fucking life."
"Hey." I scoot in closer. "I know things are bad right now. They've been bad for years. But we've gotten through them… Together. And we will continue to get through them together. We're in our last year of school. Our last year, Lisa. This is it. We get through this and we're home free. We can leave this place and never look back. But I need to know that's what you still want."
"Of course it's what I want. Fuck, that's all I want. To disappear with you. To leave all this fucking shit behind."
"Then focus on that. If you're struggling in school, I'll help you. Bring your work here with you after school every day and we will do it together. If you don't want to go home, then don't. Come here. If it's too cold, I'll sneak you into my room. We will get through this, Lisa. You and me, Jenlisa. The way it's always been. But you can't shut me out. You have to know by now that I'm never going to give up on you."
"I honestly don't know what I did to deserve you, Jennie." A hint of a smile tugs at her lips.
"I'll always fight for you. Because I love you. You hear me?" I grip her chin between my thumb and index finger. "I love you, Lisa Pranpriya Manoban. And there isn't a thing you could do to make me feel differently."
"I love you too." She pulls me into her lap, her arms going around my middle as my legs settle on either side of hers. "And I'm sorry. I'm sorry for snipping at you. I'm sorry for being distant."
"You've got a lot going on." I wrap my hands around the back of her neck. "And I get that things are hard. I do. But…"
"I gotta cool it with the drinking. I know." She blows out a breath.
"I'm not trying to parent you. I just worry about you."
"I know. And I know I don't always show it, but you being here for me, it means more than I could ever say. You are the only thing that keeps me going, Jennie. The only thing."
"Well lucky for you, I'm not going anywhere." I lean forward pressing my lips to hers.
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I'm not sure what time it is. I feel like I've been laying here in Lisa's arms for only a few minutes, but given that the sun has gone down and the cool bite of the night air has settled around us, I'm gonna say it's been a lot longer than that.
I gently roll out of her embrace and fumble through the dark, looking for my clothes. Using the flashlight on my cell phone, I manage to get dressed without falling out of the treehouse and breaking my neck.
Lisa is fast asleep, her slow steady breathing filling the space around me.
I rub my hands up and down my arms when a chill runs through me. It's colder tonight than usual.
Heading to the plastic tub in the corner, I peel it open and pull out a second sleeping bag, draping it over Lisa.
I hate that she sleeps out here. And even though she knows she can sleep in my room, I think she's afraid my mom will find out and ground me for life. So, unless there's really bad weather coming, nine times out of ten, this is where she ends up sleeping. We did finally get smart enough to rig up a tarp, giving us a makeshift roof. It isn't much but it keeps the treehouse relatively dry when it rains. And there are plenty of blankets and pillows that we keep in storage tubs.
Even still, I wish she had another option. Other family. Anything to get her out of her dad's house. A seventeen-year-old should not be afraid to walk into her own home. No child should.
Thankfully, her father is a creature of habit so Lisa knows exactly when she can slip inside, eat, shower, get clothes, and get out of there before her dad comes home. That's not to say that strategy is always successful, but more often times than not it works out.
Another chill runs through me and I bend down, grabbing Lisa's sweatshirt off the floor. Sliding it over my head, I slip my free hand into the middle pocket, finding a pill bottle inside.
Confused, I pull it out and train the flashlight of my phone on the bottle.
Oxycodone. Prescribed to someone by the name of Beverly Turnip.
I roll the bottle around in my hand, my gaze going from a sleeping Lisa to the pills and back again.
Why would she have someone else's prescription? Is she taking them? Is this why she's been off lately? Because she's using drugs?
A million questions swirl in my mind.
I'm not stupid. I know that a lot of kids in our school buy and sell their relatives' pain medication. I also know of at least three dealers in our senior class who deal a lot more than just prescription pills. But Lisa being caught up in that? I don't know, it just doesn't sound right.
She's never used drugs that I've ever been aware of and certainly never in front of me. We've gone to parties and she's never even smoked marijuana. Cigarettes, yes. Alcohol, sure, sometimes more than she should. But never drugs. Which only deepens my confusion.
Has she been using?
What other drugs is she doing or is it just the pain pills?
Is this what she's been keeping from me?
My stomach churns with the thought.
A part of me is tempted to wake her up and demand to know what she's doing with these pills. But the rational part of me knows that would do more harm than good.
So instead, I slip the pills into the pocket of my jeans and decide to wait it out. Maybe she's holding them for a friend. Maybe she's a go between. Either way, when she wakes up tomorrow and sees that they're gone, she'll have two options. Pretend like she doesn't notice or ask me where they are. Either way, her reaction will tell me a lot.
I know Lisa. Sometimes I think I know her better than I know myself. She's a shit liar and when she's trying to cover something up, she always gets defensive. It's her telltale. Which is why I suspected something else was going on tonight when she got so standoffish with me.
Turns out I was right.
Now the real question is, just how far down the rabbit hole does this thing go?
I know that addiction runs in her family. Her dad is an alcoholic who uses cocaine regularly. Her brother, last we heard, was strung out living on the streets somewhere. And her mom? Well, she must have something going on with her to up and abandon her two children the way she did.
I have every right to be worried. But I also have to remind myself that Lisa is nothing like her family.
She's sweet, caring, and generous. She's fun and adventurous. And when she laughs? My god the sound lights up an entire room.
She's nothing like any of them, I remind myself again. Praying like hell that I actually know Lisa as well as I think I do.
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