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Hoping that everyone has left by now, I close my laptop and finally decide to drive home. When I walk through the door, I see Stephanie and Olive are cleaning and sweeping. All the guests are gone, and the house is starting to look back to normal. Okay, maybe I like people. These people.
“Thank you. Seriously,” I say, throwing cups away and empty bottles into the recycling.
“Did you actually go to class?” Stephanie says, setting down the broom. I throw my bag at the bottom of the stairwell.
“Yeah, midterms are coming up and I got the study guides.”
“See,” Olive says, “I knew we should’ve gone.” She clicks her tongue and fixes a wispy piece of hair dangling over her eyes.
“Levi went. We’ll just get them from him,” Stephanie suggests.
“Speaking of Levi,” I say, grabbing the broom. “How’s that going?”
“Ah-mazing,” Stephanie says. “I’ve discovered Olive and I connect on a sexual level more than a romantic one, but we both connect to Levi on both a romantic and sexual level, so it all works for us.”
Olive nods as she swipes the counters with a cloth.
“Well, that’s great. I’m happy for you guys.” I sweep around the kitchen, making sure to get under the lip that overhangs the edge of the cupboards. At first, I thought the relationship was weird, but maybe I’m just envious of how chill they are around each other. Maybe it’s not true love, but it’s something that seems to work for all of them. I wonder what that’s like.
“So, how’d it go with Elijah? We saw him carry you upstairs… We need to know details,” Olive asks.
I bite my lip, considering how much is too much to tell my friends. “We didn’t do anything. He’s a pain in the ass, and I’m pissed at him.”
“Ooh,” Stephanie says as she leans against the island. “What did he do now?” I can tell she’s getting tired of the Elijah and Taylor drama. So am I. Not every girl is as lucky to find a guy like Levi who studies women’s issues and knows how to hold a proper conversation.
“It doesn’t matter. What matters is I’m going to put a stop to it and get him back.”
They exchange looks. “Sweetie, we believe in you but don’t go crazy, okay? Elijah just has it bad for you.”
I scoff. He won’t after what I have planned. Has it bad for me? What is this, preschool? Does the guy always have to hit the girl to show her he likes her? Maybe I should blame Jessica. But then again, I don’t need to be blaming a woman for a man’s issue.
I wait for Stephanie and Olive to leave before I go upstairs and dig out the hidden camera from under my bed. If he wants to start rumors and spread my business to everyone, then it’s only just he meets the same cruel fate.I’m not the teenage girl he fell in love with those years ago. I’m more than a sex scandal. I’m more than my parent’s affair. He’s been enjoying time with my dad, creating a nice little family in a mansion in his hometown. He’s the fucking superstar on campus. He reaps the rewards of his mother’s homewrecking behavior while I had to tend to Mom’s heartbreak across the country.
The hockey schedule tells me he has an away game tomorrow night, so I’ll have to be quick now. There has to be something, anything he does that I can catch. I remember his Xanax in the cupboard and can’t hide the devious smile on my face.
Making sure I’m now the only one home, I sneak across the hallway with the tiny camera in hand. I set it up on his front wall where his messy dresser sits. He won’t notice a tiny particle in the clutter of his room. I adjust it so it’s facing the room, including the entryway to the bathroom, feeling a little dirty doing this, a little crazed. But it’s time for revenge.
I pair the camera with my phone and test it out, walking around his room to see how much it catches. It notifies me with every movement. This will be perfect. Now all I have to do is wait for him to get home and let my research begin.
27
ELIJAH HAYES
Idream of being on the plane again. Except this time, I’m the pilot, and Dad’s in the passenger seat. The green of the mountains and the forests comes closer as the plane falls into oblivion. I reach for the controls, pulling up on them as hard as I can but it’s futile, the plane is smoking. We’ve caught fire and these are our last moments on earth together. I look over to Dad. His eyes are crazy, full of regret, shame, but worst of all, they’re full of some sort of crazed glee I’ve never seen before. He’s not the man I thought he was. This isn’t my father. It can’t be.
I wake up sweating, as usual, and send a text to Mom that the nightmares from childhood are back again. I’m not sure what she’s supposed to do with that information, but it helps knowing that someone out there can understand the pain. Dad wasn’t the man I thought he was, but he’s not evil, either. He didn’t deserve to die.
I take off my shirt and start doing push-ups on the carpet. Over and over again until my muscles are screaming. My body still aches from Halloween, but I’m not going to let it stop me from crushing today’s game in Michigan. The only thing I truly hate about hockey is all the fucking travel. Always by plane. What is so wrong with a road trip now and then?
The game starts in ten hours and between now and then I have to shower, finish classwork, and head to the airport with the team. I shower first, washing away the sweat and letting the heat ease my sore muscles. Then I start to pack my deodorant, toothbrush, all my travel supplies, including my clothes and extra gear. As I leave for class, I almost forget to take my Xanax. I’d be a panicked mess on the plane without it. I grab the pills from my bathroom and sit down on the bed, taking them out and analyzing them in my hands. I’ll need a refill soon. But in order to get a refill, I have to go to a therapy appointment first. I don’t have time for that, but I only have a few left and more travel games ahead of me.
I pop a pill and relax for a second, waiting for the antagonizing anxiety to subside and shove the rest into my go-bag. Before leaving, I schedule an appointment with my therapist, a nice older lady who works in downtown St. Paul, for tomorrow, just to get it out of the way and insure I get more pills.
She keeps reminding me to disclose my prescription to Coach, but it’s been what, three years now? We haven’t done a drug test once since I joined the team. If worse comes to worst, I can prove they’re mine. They just don’t want to find shit like weed and fentanyl in players. Although after Halloween, I bet they’d find enough to kick half the team.
On the drive over, I feel the Xanax working and that sweet feeling ofeverything is going to be okayfills me. No matter how much I need it, Xanax is a drug that comes with a reputation, especially in the college community. With my history, all the school has to do is a little digging to see that my dad was some sort of wanted drug lord. And with a son taking pills, they’d consider kicking me no matter the cost to the team. Despite my constant shame, I think they’d be hard pressed to kick their first line from the school.
The Jeep rolls to a stop, and I take my time walking to my first class, soaking in all the aches and pains as I do. Sometimes the pain’s invigorating, knowing that I did something good, something worthwhile. It’s like after a long workout, when your body hurts so good. I just hope that Chen is facing the consequences of a busted nose. According to last night’s game, it didn’t stop him from crushing Michigan. We’re about to bear the brunt of that loss, two teams now with something to prove after losing to a first line freshy.
