Read Crank Online

Authors: Ellen Hopkins

Tags: #Psychopathology, #Young Adult Fiction, #Psychology, #Family, #Drug abuse, #Family problems, #Social Issues, #Drugs; Alcohol; Substance Abuse, #General, #Parents, #Addiction, #Fiction, #Juvenile Fiction, #Novels in verse, #Problem families, #Romance, #Dating & Sex, #Health & Fitness, #Schools, #Cocaine abuse, #Pregnancy & Childbirth, #High schools, #Pregnancy

Crank (5 page)

BOOK: Crank
3.31Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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* *

Took a cigarette, bummed a light, and with a soft "thanks"

tried to amble away.

 

Hey. Where ya going?

 

 

You ain't in a hurry, are

ya?

 

* *

They weren't big, not football

players, but I was outnumbered and felt it.

 

Yeah, what kind of

thanks is that?

 

* *

The circle tightened, moving me back, away from the safety of the street.

 

Damn, you are

a fine little piece.

 

113

Think. Think! But my brain

moved too fast to process well.

My eyes gave it away.

 

Yo. I think this bitch

been crankin'.

 

* *

That was license enough. Bodies

bumped, pushed me into a doorway, blocked escape.

 

Ever done a three-fer?

 

 

You gonna love it, baby.

 

114

 

 

 

H

ands

 

covered my mouth, rough, held my arms, strong, ripped my clothes, vicious.

* *

Fear danced up my spine, jolted

my brain, dripped onto the ground.

* *

 

No!

I

 

screamed into dirty

flesh.

 

Not

 

 

this way!

 

115

Buttons burst, zippers

opened,

I closed my

eyes, braced for pain.

116

 

 

 

And Then I Heard

 

a familiar voice

 

Hey dudes.

 

 

Whatcha doin'?

 

* *

Adam took

command.

 

You not bothering

 

 

that little girl?

 

* *

The trio

pulled back, straightened up.

 

'Cause that just

 

 

isn't right.

 

* *

Glared.

Stared.

Half issued a challenge.

 

Nah, man. No need

to fight. Besides...

 

117

Adam pointed to a black and white, two blocks

away and closing.

 

You know what they do

to rapists in prison?

 

118

 

 

 

Three Raiders Jackets

 

faded into the night, dissolving like silver and black nightmares.

* *

Adam folded me gently into his arms, kissed my sobs, stilled my quaking.

 

Don't cry, Bree. It's okay now.

 

* *

The patrol car drew

even, slowed to a crawl, window

rolled down, inquiring.

 

Remember, you're buzzed. Stay cool.

 

* *

Glad he was there, scared he was there, I dug deep for a smile, waved the cop away.

 

Come on. Let's go home.

 

119

 

 

 

I Held Tight

 

to his shirt

all the way home, clung fast like a paranoid kitten.

Dad wasn't there, no doubt bowling off his own buzz, so I asked Adam in.

* *

We stayed up all

night, smoking, talking, I struggle to remember

exactly what

about.

* *

 

Boys

Chicks

 

 

School

Detention

 

 

Art

Sports

 

 

Reno

Albuquerque

 

 

Mom

Mom

 

 

Dad

Long-gone Dad

 

120

 

Stepdads

Boyfriends

 

 

Gay sister

O.D.'d

brother

 

 

Buddy

Bree

 

 

Adam

Kristina

 

 

Love

Love

 

121

 

 

 

Dawn Broke

 

A rose-colored rain over distant hills.

* *

We kissed for about the thousandth time,

* *

No promises, no demands,

* *

Just solid rebuilding of shattered trust.

* *

Then I said it.

He said it too.

* *

 

I

love you.

 

* *

And everything

that went before

* *

meant nothing.

122

 

 

 

A

bout That Time

 

Dad stumbled in, looking like the monster

had boogied on off.

 

You still up?

 

* *

Up, and flying high.

Was I supposed to go to sleep?

 

Better get some sleep.

 

* *

I walked Adam to the door, promised to see him later.

 

You two didn't do anything

 

 

I wouldn't do. Did you?

 

* *

No way, Daddy dearest.

And where were you

when I needed you?

 

'Cause a girl could get

into real trouble.

 

123

 

 

 

Clueless

 

Dad went to bed.

I laid on the couch, closed my eyes, let the night slip into replay.

* *

Exhilarating, rocketing into my

mind, reaching

unimagined

highs.

* *

Depressing, knowing when

I left, Adam would

stay. Would he downplay

* *

spectacular

times together, forget the best, remember the lows?

124

As if I had

never entered his life, never existed, would he toss

* *

all promise of tomorrow, tumble headlong into old

routines?

* *

As if he had never

told me he loved me?

125

 

 

 

I

Was Supposed to Sleep?

 

Thoughts bulleted in my brain, ricocheting, creative side to practical side, lustful half to hateful half.

Sleep? Yeah, right.

* *

I got up, located cleanser and sponge, scrubbed the bathroom, washed the dishes, waxed the kitchen floor.

* *

Wrote a four-page

letter to my sister, told her I was in love.

With a boy.

I think I asked for her forgiveness.

126

Wrote a poem, an epic, tinged with dark humor, decided to give it to my mom because this was all her fault.

Somehow.

* *

Went to the bathroom, considered my growling stomach, but the thought of food made me want to heave.

Settled for a beer. That went down fine, so I had another.

And another.

127

 

 

 

After the Fourth

 

No more writing paper, nothing left to clean,

I turned on the TV, thanked God for the

Jerry Springer marathon, six great hours, filled with pitiful people, whose lives were way

worse than my own.

Hard to believe the world is such a screwed-up place.

128

I needed food, sleep, but the monster denied

every bit of it.

Playing wasted couch

potato was all that I

could ask for.

And more.

Fading speed buzz, escalating alcohol, it was all I could

do to stay upright.

So I didn't.

129

 

 

 

U

sed Up

 

Burned out, adrift on a sea of uncertain synapses, a place where

your eyes

refuse to focus and your brain

refuses to function.

* *

Somewhere between the transvestite who slept with his

(her?)

mother's boyfriend and the perky

blond

(transvestite?)

evening

weathergirl.

130

Everything

shut

down, cerebral

ghost

town.

I

fell

into

sleep.

Deep, dream-free

sleep.

131

 

 

 

W

oke to Pounding

 

on the door, insistent vibration, building noise.

 

Bree? You there?

 

* *

Late-day sun

filtered through cracks in the blinds.

 

It's me. Open up.

 

* *

Late-day? How

long had

I slept? Only

hours?

 

I need to talk to you.

 

* *

Twenty hours, as it turned

out. I tried to open my eyes.

 

Please, Bree?

 

132

Adam's tone

forced me into the moment.

"Hang on."

 

Something happened.

 

* *

My mouth tasted like dead speed, dying beer, and foreboding.

 

There was an accident.

 

133

 

 

 

C

oming

 

Jumped up, dashed for mouthwash, forgetting the uncertainty

* * of legs, unused for twenty hours, but spurred to confront the fear

* * in his voice, and something more, something too like guilt.

Oh God, who was in the mirror? Not Bree, not Kristina, but some

evil

* *

incarnation glaring

back at me, a horrid

red-eyed crone, materialized

134

as if from darkest

dementia, nightmares to come, hibernating inside of me.

135

 

 

 

I

Filled the Sink

 

with cold water, dunked my whole head

under, counted to ten, came up, repeated the process.

* *

Came up again and she had retreated, still close,

I suspected, but far enough to let me

go to the door.

136

 

 

 

H

is Demon Showed in His Eyes

 

He stumbled in, tumbled against me, clutching like a scared little boy, in need of his mama's grace.

* *

 

She's hurt real bad.

 

Who?

 

Lince.

 

What?

 

Fell (or jumped) off the balcony.

 

When?

 

Yesterday.

 

Where?

 

Right outside.

 

* *

I didn't

dare ask

why.

Instead,

I let him

cry.

137

 

 

 

He

Told Me Why Anyway

 

 

She c

ame home from the bowling alley, went looking for me.

 

Found me.

Here, with you.

* *

Heard us inside, talking, laughing.

Looked in the window, watched us kissing, watched my hands, running all up an' down you.

* *

 

When your dad came home,

she

waited for me to come outside.

 

Said she wanted to talk.

But she wanted more than that.

She wanted to erase you from my heart.

Never could, Bree.

Never could.

And that's what

I told her.

138

The monster rose up hard then, hard in her eyes,

She looked like an animal, crazy mad, diseased.

Spit in every word, she swore

she'd get back at you, at me.

* *

Next thing I knew, she was on the sidewalk below, still, except for the blood running

red from her head.

* *

They say it was an accident, she tripped, or leaned over too far.

Crankin', they said, and she was.

Oh, yes, she was.

139

 

That's what I wanna believe.

 

 

Maybe someday I can.

 

* *

 

But

right now I think something different.

 

* *

 

I never saw it coming.

 

 

Never thought she would.

 

 

I would have stopped her.

 

* *

 

Could I have stopped her?

 

140

 

 

 

My

Brain Somersaulted

 

My heart picked up speed, my stomach threatened to 86 guilt, drowning in bile.

Oh, God. I'm sorry.

 

Hold me.

 

* *

I wrapped him tight, hair dripping cool around the stiffness of his shoulders.

Not your fault.

 

Whose, then?

 

* *

The answer, hanging over my head like a stubborn black cloud, seemed obvious.

Mine.

 

Don't say that.

 

141

I pictured Guinivere, golden-eyed wildcat, crumpled against the sad, cracked cement.

Whose then?

 

Plenty

of blame to go around.

 

* *

Too much truth in that.

And I never heard a thing, dead to the world for twenty hours.

142

 

 

 

We

Sat on the Floor

 

Tangled up in each other, a knot of emotions

desperate for release.

* *

And the more we kissed, the more we talked, the more confused we became.

* *

He loved me. He loved her.

He loved her first.

BOOK: Crank
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