Page 84 of Becoming Us

I stepped inside, phone in hand, about to text him—then I heard it.

A gagging sound came from the bathroom. Then a cough. A few seconds later, the toilet flushed.

My insides turned to ice.

I backed out of the room quickly and closed the door behind me as quietly as I could. Then I waited. A few minutes passed before I knocked again.

We said goodbye. But the entire ride to the airport—and all through the flight—I couldn’t shake the dread that had taken root in my chest. I was tired as fuck, but I couldn’t sleep. Not even for a second. My brain wouldn’t shut up. My body wouldn’t stop buzzing. My chest felt like a tight fist.

Anthony, my dealer, was having a party at a friend’s place. I went, mostly to get more weed. Hoping it would help. Hoping something would.

I rubbed my face in my hands as I sat on the couch beside him.

“You look like shit,” he said. “Why don’t you have a drink? Stay a while. Forget whatever’s messing with your head.”

His friends were usually wasted, but harmless.

I shook my head. “I need sleep. I’m so fucking tired I can’t think.”

“And you’re smoking? That’s not going to be enough.” He grinned. “Try something different. I’ve got Adderall, if you’re falling behind in class.”

“Nah, man.” I was already digging in my pocket for my phone so I could pay and leave.

“Or blow, if that’s more your style.”

My hand paused.

“It’s the good shit too,” he added with a sly smile. “Give it a try. I know you’re good for it.” He pulled out a small plastic bag filled with white powder and held it toward me.

I stared at it.

And then I thought?—

About my dad. The big five. That conversation we had in my room when I was fifteen.

About tomorrow’s class, where I didn’t even know what we were doing—plus the paper I hadn’t started.

About how nothing was slowing down, and I was expected to carry everything, hold it all together, when I could barely stay upright.

I thought about the fear. That old, bone-deep kind. The one that lived under my skin. The one that made me freeze. That made me feel small.

I thought about how long it had been since I’d felt wanted. Since I’d been touched. Since I hadn’t felt invisible in a room full of people.

He started to pull his hand back. “You’ve never had any?”

I reached for the bag before he could and held it between my fingers like it might answer something.

He offered me a key. “Here.”

I thought about my dad’s face. Stern. Tired.

Then the flash of his forearm. The gagging sounds.

Something cracked open inside me and I snatched the key.

Took a bump. Held my hand to my nose.

The bitter trail burned down my throat, and my heart kicked up like it was waking from a long sleep.