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No one spoke. He moved to the window and stared out into the afternoon. I’d had enough. I couldn’t stand the deafening silence that was in my head anymore. Leo was right—she was one of those good girls. “I have a problem,” I said in a low voice.
He spun around for the window and looked at me concerned. “What is it?”
I held the bottle in my hands like it was my lifeline. Like if he took it from me I just might die right there in that crappy apartment, in a secondhand bed. But if I was going to die, she was the one worth dying for.
“I’m addicted to Oxy. And I need your help.”
SEVENTEEN
BERKLEY
I ran from the building and got into my car, slamming the door behind me. How could he be so stupid? Throwing his life away like that! I just couldn’t understand. I thought Dillon had grown, that he would stop being so dangerous after this past fight, but instead he just wanted more trouble now than ever. How had I not seen the signs? How could I not tell that the guy I was going crazy over was addicted to pain medication?
Every thought raced through my mind as I drove, but I didn’t really know where I was going until I had been driving for over an hour. Naomi was blowing up my phone and I finally had calmed down enough to answer. “Hello?”
“Where the hell are you? I thought you would have been home by now! You said you were just going to do a drop in visit.”
“Well my drop in turned into a drop out, and now I’m on my way to my parents.” I’d had no idea that’s where my mind had taken me, but I knew from the surrounding area that I was on a small highway that took me towards upstate New York. And to the Cassidy family residence.
“What happened?”
I sighed heavily, not really wanting to talk about it. “Dillon is as dangerous as you said he was. And he doesn’t want anything to do with me and my nice girl qualities. We’re over.”
“Again?”
“Again. And this time I think it’s for real. He practically threw me out of his apartment Naomi! I can’t even believe it!”
“I’m so sorry, honey. He’ll notice what he lost, trust me. I know he will. So how long do you think you’re going to stay with your parents? I mean, we don’t have classes all weekend. Though you’re going to miss a crazy toga party tomorrow night.”
“I think I might just stay for the whole weekend. I need a break from all of the craziness that is school and Dillon right now.”
“Well tell your parents I said hello. I like being their favorite.”
I laughed in spite of my bad mood, “I will. Talk to you later.”
“Bye.”
I drove for another forty five minutes in complete silence. I didn’t even turn on the radio for fear of what mushy love song I would find that would just bring the tears back into my eyes.
I didn’t want to cry over Dillon Jackson.
I wasn’t going to be that girl.
I wasn’t going to let him make me feel that way.
As I pulled into our circular driveway, my mother was in the garden pulling some weeds. She turned around and shielded her eyes from the sun as she looked in my direction. My mother looked almost just like me, just about thirty years older. And she was also a lot more poised and graceful than I ever was. Her hair flowed around her shoulders in perfect curls at the ends, and she had a beautiful set of pearls around her neck. She was straight out of a magazine with her gardening gloves, straw hat and high waisted capris with a buttoned up blouse. Sometimes she made me feel beautiful just looking at her. This was exactly the type of break I needed.
As I shut off my car she walked over to me a huge smile on her face. “Darling, I wasn’t expecting you! To what do I owe the pleasure?” She extended her arms and I immediately got out of the car and ran into them.
“Mom, I screwed up.”
She ran her gloved hand over my hair and shushed me. “Now that can’t be true. Come in. Let’s have a cup of tea and talk about it.”
We walked together into the grand foyer of the beautiful white home that I had loved growing up in as a child. The driveway itself was longer than most of the streets in the small city where BU was. I had always lived like this, and I didn’t really know any different until I met Dillon. We always hung out with other affluent kids, mostly other politicians’ children. I’d grown up going to birthday parties with ponies and nannies. But my parents had always stayed involved with me and my brother, and that made me feel special.
We went to the living room where my father was sitting next to the window reading a book in his chair. It didn’t bother me anymore to see him in a wheelchair; it was just another part of life. I walked over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. He was beaming, obviously also surprised to see me.
“Hi, baby! How are you?” He looked up at my mother who had a pleasant yet serious face. He
