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“But won’t that hurt her? Isn’t it a lot?” My mind immediately jumps to the workshops we were given in school, where outside agencies would come in and preach about the dangers of drugs. I’m pretty sure we were all haunted by the videos of a girl OD’ing and choking on her own puke. In my mind’s eye, that girl’s face is replaced by Malia’s and it shakes me.
“We promise it’s perfectly safe. It’s to keep Malia and you, everyone really, safe. Trust us.”
“Okay.” I exhale shakily and begin walking across campus to check on Malia.
“Now, it’s probably best if you get round to her dorm and see what’s wrong.”
“I’m already on my way.”
“I wish you two were rooming together this year.”
“Malia’s parents—”
“We know. We’re working to overturn their damage.” My mother’s voice drips with disapproval, as it always does whenever the subject of Malia’s parents comes up.
They were downright neglectful at best, abusive at worst, and my parents have never approved of them or the way they treated Malia.
“Is there anything I can do?” I offer.
“Your job,” my father replies flatly, earning himself a disapproving tut from my mother.
“Just keep being a good friend to her, baby, you’re doing great. But let us know how it’s going, yeah? Don’t be afraid to reach out for help.”
“Okay,” I reply sadly before saying goodbye and hanging up.
No doubt I’ll see them soon when I next take Malia to the mainland for one of her checkups. It’s my job to get her to therapy once a week, but that’s on campus so it’s not too bad. I think getting her on a boat to the mainland might be a challenge though.
I get to Malia’s dorm and knock on the door. She doesn’t answer, but that’s not unusual, especially when she’s freaked out about something. I wonder, not for the first time, if the doctors have her meds right. Is she freaking out because they’re wearing off? She’s not due another dose until bedtime so she should be fine.
“Malia, it’s me,” I call softly through the door, knocking again too for good measure. No answer.
My phone buzzes again.
Malia: Where are you?
Me: I’m right outside, open the door!
Malia: I’m in the library. Help!
Shit. There’s no time to freak out, but what the fuck?! Malia’s not left her room in weeks and now she’s suddenly in the damn library? Why? And why is she sending me SOS messages?
I stash my phone in my pocket and take off running in the direction of the campus library. At least she hasn’t ventured off into town somewhere. The library I can deal with. I’m just glad I thought to grab some of Malia’s medication before I left. I just hope I get her back to her room without incident or drawing too much attention to us.
