Shattered Soul (11 page)

Seeing her so wounded and grief-stricken as old pain
cut through her again killed me. I never imagined her having been
through something so horrible. I was stunned.

My stomach knotted while she continued to stare at
me, blinking back tears with her lips quivering. I struggled to
come up with something comforting to say. Anything. But all I could
think of was a simple sorry.

Once I opened my mouth to speak, the I’m sorry wasn’t
what came from my lips. Instead, my mouth opened and everything I
never wanted Ali to know about my life spilled out.

I told her about my dad and how he’d walked away when
I was only three. I told her about my mom and how she’d tried to
make ends meet for my brother and I, but it had taken a toll on her
and she’d turned to alcohol as a coping method. I told her how Mom
lost her job two months ago because they’d gotten sick of her
coming into work smelling of booze. And how her drinking has gotten
worse since then. I told her about Calvin and how he couldn’t hold
a job besides dealing drugs.

And then, I told her the truth about how I’d gotten
beaten up.

The only parts of my life I kept secret were the
things my mom said to me earlier and everything about crystal meth.
Ali already knew I smoked pot and popped pills, two things that
must seem fairly harmless in her eyes or else she wouldn’t have
done them, and that was all she needed to know about me.

After spilling my guts, I hesitated in bringing my
eyes to hers, afraid of what I might see in them. Once I finally
found the courage, they were wide and worried, thoughtful and
sympathetic. In that moment, her sympathy didn’t bother me.

Ali didn’t speak and neither did I. We held each
other’s stare, truly seeing each other for the first time.

Ali wasn’t just some girl living a peaches and cream
life with parents who had a little bit of money. Ali was more than
that, deeper than that, and she had the scars on her heart, on her
soul, to prove it.

And I wasn’t just some bad boy who was nothing but a
punk kid looking for trouble. I was raised around trouble and
because of it, I was troubled to the very core.

It was 9:40 p.m. when Ali dropped me off at my house,
apparently she had a curfew of ten p.m. on school nights, something
I knew little about.

I kissed her goodnight and watched her pull away
before stepping inside to a silent house with every light on. I
sauntered down the worn carpeted hall towards my room and closed
the door behind me. I flopped down across my bed and smoked another
bowl before drifting off to sleep.

Three weeks went by. Ali and I spent as much time
together as we could, between school and her curfews. Everything
seemed to be going great, until the moment her parents decided they
wanted to meet the boy whom she’d been spending all her time with.
Me.

I stood in front of my dresser, staring at my
reflection in the mirror intently. My lip had healed, my bruises
had faded away, I looked normal again.

I pulled on my nicest pair of khaki cargo shorts and
a green plaid button up shirt from the back of my closet I hardly
ever wore. I wore it tonight, though, only because I felt it was
important I looked decent.

I took two puffs off my bowl to mellow me out and
calm my nerves before I left, grabbed the cigarette I’d stolen from
Calvin’s pack when he hadn’t been looking, and started out the door
towards Ali’s house for my judgment day; that’s what it felt like,
anyway.

Once Ali's house came into view, my palms began to
sweat; I was scared shitless of what would happen in the moments to
come.

I started up the steps, my heart banging in my chest.
Her parents were going to hate me, I was sure of it. They’d take
one look at me and be able to see the blood flowing beneath my skin
heavily tainted with my various weaknesses…especially her dad.

I knocked and stood perfectly still, holding my
breath as though it were my very last, wishing I could fast-forward
and press play only when this whole thing was over with and I was
on my way back home.

The door creaked open and Ali stood in front of me,
her bright blue eyes meeting mine, her blonde hair pulled back into
a tight ponytail. She wore a bubble gum pink t-shirt and a short
denim skirt. I exhaled, relieved at the sight of her, and a crooked
grin stretched across my face. I silently prayed this wouldn’t be
the last time I got to hang out with her.

“Hey. Come on in,” she insisted with a smile.

“Thanks.”

Thrusting my hands into my pockets, I stepped across
the threshold. My mother’s words echoed through my mind mocking me
as I trailed through the white tiled foyer behind Ali. You’re
tainted with your own addiction…she’ll realize sooner or later what
a worthless piece of crap you are...She’ll get sick of you and move
on.

I clenched my jaw tight, my hands balled into fists
inside my pockets. What if she was right? What if her parents took
one look at me and saw exactly how worthless I actually was…how
long would it take before they convinced her of the same?

We rounded a corner and stepped into a large living
room. Ali’s mom and dad sat on an over-stuffed couch watching TV.
It muted the second we came to a stop and the fisherman reeling in
the catch of his life grew eerily silent on the screen. My throat
tightened, my heart thudded with so much force inside my chest I
swore it could be heard by everyone’s ears in the silence of the
room.

“Mom, Dad, this is Seth. Seth, this is my mom and
dad.” Ali introduced us all with a nervous smile.

I could feel her parents’ eyes on me, sizing me up. I
half expected them both to shout out, leave and stay the hell away
from our clean, uncorrupted daughter! And, I would have, too.
Because the thought of me never being good enough for her had
crossed my mind a million times, and now, it resonated in the
depths, pulsating with every pound of my heart.

“Hi, nice to meet you,” I said, somehow managing to
push down all my nervous fear, not letting it leak into my
words.

“Nice to finally meet you, too,” Ali’s mom said with
a smile.

Seconds seemed to drag on while I waited for her
father to speak. His eyes remained fixated on me, boring into me.
The steady, intimidating eyes of a cop. I thought of all the
impurities floating through my blood, all the things I’d smoked,
snorted, and popped. Was he able to see all of that? From the way
he stared at me and the seriousness of his features, it seemed
possible.

“So, you’re the boy my daughter has been spending so
much time with, huh?” he asked point blank.

My throat went dry, and I had to swallow hard to be
able to speak again. “Yes, sir.” Sir? I’d never said sir to anyone
in my life before.

“Treat her well and respect my curfews…understood?”
he questioned, his eyes cutting through me like knives.

“Yes, sir. Understood.” I replied clearly, nodding my
head more than necessary. I was nervous as shit under his
penetrating stare. It made me feel two inches tall and more
paranoid than a crack head with a gram in his shoe and a cop blue
lighting him for no apparent reason.

“Good,” he muttered. He shifted his attention back
towards the TV and with a click of his thumb, restarted my heart as
the overjoyed sounds of extreme delight swam through the room once
more from a redneck fisherman describing his catch.

Ali’s hand gripped my wrist and I could breathe
again. Introductions were over and by some stroke of good luck, I
was still allowed to date their daughter.

“Come on,” Ali demanded in a soft tone, tugging
slightly on my arm.

I followed her gladly back around the corner and
towards the staircase. Ali bounded up the steps with a giddy smile
on her face directed at me. I smiled back, my heart slowly
returning to its normal rhythm again.

Once we reached the top of the steps we were greeted
by fluffy golden fur and a wagging tail.

“This is D-O-G,” she said, patting the dog’s
head.

He came to me and sniffed a few times before planting
himself in front of me, waiting for me to pet him. I scratched
behind his ears and was thanked with a wagging tail and a wet
tongue slapping across my forearm.

“Hey, boy,” I smirked, remembering his name and what
it meant. I had been judged twice today and both times
prevailed.

“He likes you,” Ali said stepping around him. I
followed her, knowing exactly where she was taking me, her
room.

Ali's room was bright and cheery, colorful and
vibrant. It seemed alive somehow, like it was pulsating with her
energy. I walked across the old hardwood floors and sat at the edge
of her bed.

“Well, this is my room,” she said in a strangled sort
of tone from the doorway.

“Nice,” I said, shifting my eyes to her. Her cheeks
were flushed slightly, I couldn’t decide from either embarrassment
or the sight of me sitting on her bed.

Did girls even have thoughts like that? I hoped so,
because instantly my mind became crowded with thoughts of me…and
her…and the bed.

I saw her chest rise and fall as she took in a deep
breath. She licked her lips and crossed the room. Her arm brushed
against mine as she moved to sit beside me and my heart rate
spiked, returning again to the fast paced pounding from moments
ago. I smoothed my palms against my shorts, erasing the clammy
sensation which had begun to build across them. I shot her a
crooked grin, she smiled shyly in return.

I leaned in, feeling drawn by my own building desire
for her soft lips pressed against mine.

“Remember…door open, Ali!” her mom’s voice filled the
room the second our lips made the briefest of contact.

We pulled apart, creating a four foot gap between us
instantly.

“I know, mom!” Ali shouted, her cheeks burning
through ten shades of pink in two seconds flat.

I chuckled. In my experience, parents were always so
naive when it came to the door open rule. Didn’t they realize you
could still do all those things they were so afraid you’d be doing
even with the door open, that all you’d have to do was be quieter
and more cautious?

But, I wasn’t about to press my luck with Ali’s
parents because Ali was different. Ali was good. And if that was
how I wanted her parents to see me, then that was how I had to be.
Good.

Hours ticked away. We settled for a few PG rated
make-out sessions and Ali introduced me to her, the real her. The
type of music she listened to, the books she liked to read, her
favorite movies and the one’s she hated, and we talked. We talked
until her dad came to the door telling us dinner was ready.

I sat across a solid wooden table from Ali, noting
how different eating dinner at their house was than at mine.

When dinner was over, we went back to Ali’s room,
listened to music and talked some more until Ali’s mom rapped on
the door.

“It's getting pretty late, Seth. What time do you
have to be home by?” she asked.

My eyes flickered to the green glowing numbers of the
alarm clock resting on her nightstand. 10:23 p.m. “10:30,” I lied.
“I’d better get going.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Ali offered.

“I thought you didn’t have a curfew,” Ali teased once
we were standing outside her front door.

“I don’t.” I placed my hands on her hips and leaned
in to steal my last kiss for the night.

I walked home that night with an ear to ear grin
plastered on my face, amazed because I’d never known myself to feel
so incredibly happy without it being the effects of some drug
coursing through my system, stimulating those parts of my mind.
Being around Ali had become intoxicating. She had become my new
drug of choice, the one that I preferred above all others. And I
hadn’t even noticed it until now.

Walking into my house at 10:46 p.m. was no different
from walking in at 10:46 a.m. In my house, no one was winding down
for the evening…just as no one would be in the middle of their day
if it were late morning either.

The full reality of how different my life was from
Ali’s hit me hard the second I opened my front door. It was like
being tossed into a reoccurring nightmare, one there is no escape
from. My happiness deflated and a burning numbness replaced it once
I crossed over the threshold.

Calvin sat in the center of the couch, slouched over
the coffee table, plucking white crystals from inside a tiny
zip-lock baggie. Brent sat in the recliner and Jade nestled at the
other end of the couch, waiting for her next fix with eager
anticipation dancing on her face.

I closed the door behind me and realized one thing
different about the reoccurring nightmarish scene in front of me,
another person had been added.

A petite brunette I recognized immediately from a few
years ago had joined the party. She’d been a senior when I was a
freshman. I couldn’t remember her name, but I knew this type of
thing hadn’t been her scene—at least, not back then. As for now, I
guessed she was into heavier things, looking to enter into the
darker side of the drug world.

The brunette sat on the other side of my brother,
looking slightly uncomfortable. From where she sat, it was too soon
to tell if she was Brent’s girl or Jade’s soon-to-be
replacement.

“Well, look who it is,” Calvin smirked, crunching his
lighter across a piece of paper, turning the crystals beneath it
into a powder.

My eyes dropped towards his hand and refused to rise
again, remaining fixated on his motions.

“Want one?” Calvin asked. I could hear his amusement
echoing through his words at my visible weakness.

I swallowed hard while I watched him pick up a razor
blade and carefully scrape it across the back of the paper, making
a pile of thick, chunky, white powder on the tabletop.