Slow Burn (9 page)

I was about to find out that, um, for stereotypes to exist, there has to be some truth to them.

There weren’t very many people at the meeting. Maybe five of us, not counting Griffin who stood at the back of the room and didn’t talk to anyone. The two women dominated the meeting, chatting in thick redneck drawls about how they were tempted to do crystal meth (of all things) while chewing tobacco.

I’m not kidding. Those two women both had little spittoon cups, and they shot thick streams of brown saliva out of their mouths every few minutes.

I’d never seen a real person chewing tobacco before.

I knew I shouldn’t judge. They seemed like very nice ladies, and I was glad that they had made a decision to clean up their lives and stop doing drugs. It was great. But... I had to admit, I didn’t feel like I had much in common with them. I wasn’t in such dire straits that the only way we could pay for food for my kids was for my husband to cook up meth and sell it. My teeth weren’t rotting out of my head.

I was fine. Okay, maybe I had a little problem with blow. But it wasn’t ruining my life or anything.

When they asked me if I wanted to say anything, I shook my head.

There were two other people there, both around my age, a girl and a guy. They were holding hands. The girl had dyed her hair bright cherry red. Both she and the guy had a lot of piercings in their faces. Nose, lips, eyebrows. When she spoke up, I saw the glint of something metal on her tongue.

“I’m Stacey,” she said, and she had a voice like bubblegum. It clashed with her appearance. “And I’m an addict. I’ve got six months sober.” She beamed, looking like a punk Cabbage Patch Doll.

The guy next to her shook his head.

“He does too,” she said. “He’s just shy.”

After the meeting, I wandered out of the church, feeling a little dazed. Stacey and her boyfriend were right in front of me. The minute they hit fresh air, they both lit up cigarettes.

Griffin and I had to walk through a cloud of their smoke to get to our car.

“Hey,” said Stacey, “I’ve seen you before on campus.”

“Me?” I said. Like there was anyone else around.

“You go to school with me, don’t you?” she said. “You live in Thomas, like we do.” She pointed at her boyfriend.

I felt Griffin go rigid behind me. They recognized me? What did that mean? I backed up so that I was almost touching him. “Maybe.”

“I thought so,” she said. “I remembered your boyfriend. I see you guys walking all over campus together. He’s so sweet. He only has eyes for you.”

“Oh,” I said, laughing. “Griffin’s not my—”

“I’m her bodyguard,” said Griffin.

Stacey raised her eyebrows. “Really?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“Well, cool,” she said. “You know, Jack was going to be a bodyguard.” She slung an arm around her boyfriend. “But he found out you have to work with the police sometimes.”

“Yeah, not cool,” said Jack.

They seemed harmless. But were they?

“I’m trying to start a chapter of NA on campus,” said Stacey. “But no one except me and Jack ever show up. If
you
come, it would save us all a drive.” She grinned.

“Mmm,” said Stacey, her head thrown back in ecstasy. We were sitting inside The Purple Fiddle. Her, me, Jack, and Griffin. We’d just had our second NA meeting all together on campus. It had gone pretty well. Better than talking with the meth heads in Grafton. “I love tofu.”

I shook my head. “I can’t believe you just said that.” I looked at Griffin. “That’s totally gross, isn’t it?”

“I’m not a big fan of tofu,” he admitted.

“You ever eaten it?” said Jack.

“Yes,” I said. “My ex-boyfriend, who was a vegetarian, made me eat it once. It was horrible.”

“Well, who cooked it?” said Stacey. “Was it him?”

“Yeah,” I said. “So?”

“So, just try this.” She shoved her half-eaten burger at my face.

I cringed. She wanted me to take a bite of something she’d already eaten. That wasn’t sanitary.

“Go on,” she said. “I don’t have cooties.”

I took a tentative bite and chewed. I hoped I wasn’t ingesting a trillion germs. As I chewed, I realized that what I was eating didn’t taste half bad. “Hey. It’s not awful.”

“Not awful? It’s amazing,” said Stacey. “So good. Jack and I would barely survive here if it wasn’t for The Purple Fiddle. Do you know how hard it is to be vegan around here?”

“You’re vegan, huh?” I asked.

She smiled. “Yeah. Six months now.”

“Isn’t that the amount of time you’ve been sober?” I said.

She nodded. “Yup. Jack and I gave up meat, eggs, milk, and blow all at the same time.”

“Whoa,” I said. “Sounds intense.”

“Definitely,” said Stacey.

“I couldn’t do that,” I said. “I mean, I think that would be too hard.”

“Yeah, well, we were going to quit smoking too,” said Jack, “but we decided it would be too much to handle.”

“We’re going to quit eventually,” said Stacey.

“You guys want to be healthy, I guess,” I said.

“It’s more than that,” said Stacey. “I mean, while I was doing drugs and stuff, I really just wanted to stand out, you know? My dad left when I was a kid, and I guess I was looking for attention somewhere. I wanted people to see me, and always notice me.” She tugged on her hair. “That’s why, you know, I do stuff like this.”

I smiled. “I get that. I know what you’re talking about.”

“When you’re all fucked up,” she said, “you’re free, right? You don’t have anything holding you back. You can be as loud or as noticeable as you want.”

“Yeah,” I said. Wow. Stacey and I might have more in common than I had ever thought.

“So, when I quit, I didn’t want to lose that. I was afraid of being nobody. Like if I wasn’t the crazy party chick with weird hair and piercings, then who would I be, you know? But I decided that instead of using my appearance to validate myself, I’d used it for good. So, now I’m the crazy chick who’s vocal about being sober and making better food choices and all of that.”

I surveyed her. She was actually really together, in her own strange way. I liked her. “I think that’s cool.”

“Plus, being vegan is like effortless weight loss.” She gestured at me with her sandwich. “Not that you need to lose weight or anything.”

I took a bite of my jalapeño turkey wrap. “Well, every girl wants to lose weight.”

“I know, right?” she said, taking a drink of her soda. She inclined her head. “And all guys universally hate it when girls start talking about that.”

Griffin and Jack both seemed really interested in their food.

“They’re a lot alike, Griffin and Jack,” said Stacey.

I set down my wrap. “How do you figure?” They didn’t look very similar to me. Jack was skinny and pierced. He had long, blue hair. Griffin was the complete opposite of Jack.

“They’re both quiet,” she said. “They both keep things to themselves, especially bad things. They don’t open up about their pain to just anyone.”

That was true, I guessed, as far as it went.

Stacey sucked on her straw. “Jack hates cops, for instance. Hates ‘em. Won’t tell me why.”

“They just bug me,” said Jack, eating a French fry.

“Something happened,” she said. “He’ll tell me eventually.” She stole one of his fries.

“Hey,” he said. “You got a plate full of your own.”

“I know, but yours just look crispier than mine,” said Stacey.

“You know,” said Griffin. “I think Jack and Leigh got crispier fries.” He took one off my plate and popped it in his mouth.

I glared at him. “I get one of yours, then.”

“So, when are you two going to admit that you’re totally smitten with each other?” said Stacey.

Griffin choked on the fry.

“Look,” said Griffin as we walked up the stairs to my apartment. “What she said, it’s not... It’s important to me that you’re safe, but not because of anything... you know, like that.”

I opened the door to the apartment. “Believe me, I know that. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. I mean, she doesn’t even know us. We just met her. She strikes me as the kind of person who says whatever floats to the top of her mind anyway.”

He laughed, closing the door after me. “Yeah, she sure does talk, doesn’t she?”

I went to the refrigerator to put my leftovers from The Purple Fiddle in there. “Besides, I know exactly why you follow me everywhere and watch me constantly. It’s because of my dad. Right?” I closed the refrigerator door and looked up at him.

He didn’t have a takeout box. He stood next to the window. It was afternoon, and the sun was streaming in behind him, giving him a halo. “Uh, right.”

“You’re like a guardian angel,” I said.

“Trust me, doll, I’m no angel.” He moved away from the window, across the room to the couch. He slept there, and usually he was good about folding up all the blankets. But he must have forgotten this morning, because it still looked like a bed. He picked up a blanket and started folding it.

“Well, you’re not interested in me. Because that one time I tried to kiss you, you got really freaked out. You weren’t into it at all.”

He continued folding the blanket, making it smaller and smaller. “Yeah. It’s, um, not like that.”

“Trust me. I get it. It’s all about my dad. You owe my dad for saving you. It has nothing to do with me. I mean, you probably don’t even like me. Why would you? All I’ve done is cause you problems. If I were you, I wouldn’t want to be involved with me either.”

He set the blanket on the couch. He picked up the sheet and began to fold it. “Of course I like you, doll.”

“You do? Because I kind of got the impression that you wanted to murder me.”

He chuckled. “I’m trying to
keep
people from murdering you.”

I smiled. “Well, I like you too. You’re a pain in my ass, but you’re kind of right. About everything. And I’d be dead if it weren’t for you.”

He set down the sheet. He caught my eye. He was smiling too. We stood like that, in the afternoon light, smiling at each other across the living room. It was nice.

I took a step towards him.

He broke eye contact. “So, I just wanted to make sure you understood that.”

“Understood what?”

“That I don’t have feelings for you,” he told the couch.

Oh, right. That was what we had been talking about. I had been distracted. When we were looking at each other like that, it had seemed as if... But he was saying... I straightened a pillow on my recliner. “No. Of course I understand.”

“It’s not because I don’t like you. You’ve been through a lot. And dealing with drugs is tough for everyone. I think you’re great. I really do.” He sat down on the couch. “It’s just because of your dad.”

“That’s what I said before.” I straightened the pillow more. I wasn’t sure how much straighter I could actually get it.

“And because it wouldn’t be appropriate,” he said. “Because if I got involved with you, then I wouldn’t be as good at protecting you.”

“I totally understand,” I said. “I never believed Stacey anyway, you know? We don’t have to keep talking about this.”

“Right.” He looked at his hands.

I wasn’t sure where to look either. Things had gotten really awkward all of the sudden. I sat down. “So, what was my dad like, when you were spending time with him? Because I didn’t really see him much.”

“What do you mean, what was he like? He was freaked out. He was worried about you. He wanted you to be safe. You were all he talked about.”

“Really?” I said. “That’s funny. Because before that accident, he almost never talked to me at all.”

“That can’t be true. He was crazy about you.”

“When I was thirteen years old, my dad gave me a card wishing me a happy tenth birthday.”

Griffin winced. “That’s harsh.”

“He never came to see one of my school activities, like other parents did. By the time I was in high school, I stopped doing school activities. I figured, what was the point?”

“That when you started messing with drugs?”

“Yeah. It just didn’t seem like it was that big of a deal. And I didn’t think anyone would notice.”

“He did care about you, doll. I know that.”

I shrugged. “I wish he would have shown me that instead of you.”

“He risked everything to save your life.”

I realized I was crying again. Damn my dad. He didn’t deserve this many tears from me. I wiped my eyes with the heel of my hand. “Like you do. Because he asked you too. How can you be so loyal to him?”

He leaned back against the couch. “Look, I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Because of my dad. Yeah, we’ve established this.” Why were the tears coming faster now?

“Not just because of that.” He stood up and went to the window, putting his hands in his pockets. “I don’t want you to die. I mean, how could I sleep at night knowing there was a girl out there who was willing not to judge me about my past? She said I was a confused kid, not a criminal. And she had a big heart. She worked hard to change. She was willing to do whatever it took, even if she hated it. If I let a girl like that die, I’d never be able to live with myself.”

I went to him. I put my hand on his shoulder.

He closed his eyes.

“Griffin, that was the sweetest thing anyone has ever—”

He moved away from me. “I
can’t
, okay?”

Chapter Six

“So your dad seriously hired you a bodyguard?” said Stacey from the other stall in the clothing store.

“Seriously,” I said.

“Are you in that much danger?”

Griffin and I had talked about how to lie about this. “It’s my dad’s job. He works for an international arms corporation. He thinks I could be in danger.”

“Oh, whoa,” she said. “So, you might be.”

“Maybe,” I said. “Hopefully not.”

“And Griffin lives with you?”

“Well, he has to watch me.”

“All the time? Like while you’re in bed, too?”

I giggled. “Stacey, he can
hear
you.”

“I sleep on the couch,” said Griffin. He was outside the dressing room.

“He can
always
hear me,” she said. “He’s always around. How are we supposed to have a proper girly conversation about him behind his back, when he never
turns
his back?”