Week Three

I NEVER CALLED SADIE back last night and this morning I woke up hungover with a throbbing headache. I drank way too much last night in an attempt to block out the image of the unknown face that is Mike and my girl together. Shit haunted my nightmares even then.

I don’t know what made me react the way I did, I’ve never been the jealous type. But of course, I’ve never had a girlfriend or a reason to get jealous. That happens with only ever having one night stands.

“Boys, sound check in forty minutes, get up!” Nick passes our bunks, banging on the wood above each one. I drag my hands up and down my face and turn over to see my phone next to me. Nearly throwing it after blinding myself with the harsh light, I turn it down and squint through my blurry hungover vision.

Seeing all the missed calls and one message from Sadie, I take a deep breath.

I fucked up last night.

The boys start moving around outside of my closed off curtain as I click call and wait for her to answer. Before I start anything today I need to make it right with Sadie, if I didn’t already lose her for good with my fucking jealousy.

“Well, well. If it isn’t Ben Cooper, the jerk who made Sadie Jay an emotional shit show,” Kate answers and I groan, closing my eyes, attempting to chase away the headache.

“It’s too early and I’m too hungover for this shit. Where’s Sadie?”

“She’s just getting out of the shower, hold up, cranky ass.”

“Back at you, Kate.”

“Hello?” Sadie’s angel voice sings through the phone and it eases the burn in my eyes and relieves some of the pressure in my pounding head.

“Hey, listen. I’m sorry. I fucked up last night. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions and said that shit.” Coming out of the gate with an apology only seems right.

“It’s okay,” she mumbles and I swear I see her in my mind, sitting on the edge of the bed with her head down.

“No, it’s not. I need to get my jealousy under control. Just the thought of Mike makes me crazy.” His name feels fucked up coming out of my mouth. “Listen, I’m jealous of him because he had you first and he’s a way better guy than I am, I’m sure. So that got to me last night and I lost my cool over the thought of you going back to him.”

“Ben, hold on,” she tells me and I hear her ask Kate for privacy. They share a few words before she answers again. “But I wouldn’t do that. He doesn’t make me feel what you do. I could never go back.”

“What? He can’t make you feel sexy?” Her breathing becomes labored.

“That, but Ben there is more to us than that. We have that connection, that instant connection. You make me feel alive.”

“I know baby, me too.”

“Then don’t do that. Don’t assume that you know what I want, Ben. You came in and flipped my world upside down in a matter of days. There is no way it can flip back with some man who can’t make me feel anything at all. I’m loyal. Don’t ever accuse me of anything less.”

Sadie being in control of who she wants right now makes me feel more like a fucking dickweed. I could have easily lost her over something so damn small, but instead she’s telling me to eat my words and piss off because she doesn’t want to leave me. I revel in the fact that she wants me as much as I want her.

“I know, I know.” I won’t argue her, I know my disease, I know the rage inside and the way I can escalate situations with a flip of a switch. I debate telling her about my IED, but a conversation about that via phone isn’t the ideal way to do it. I’ll tell her in person when I see her in five days.

“I see you on Friday.” I change the subject.

“I know. I can’t wait to see you. I have you until Sunday?”

“Yeah, not long enough, but it’ll be an amazing weekend.”

“I know. I have finals Friday morning, so I’ll have all weekend to be with you!” Just like that, we move on and find our happy.

§

We finished our last show yesterday and today we start the drive home. Tomorrow I see Sadie and I’m a bundle of fucking nerves and energy. I wanna get home to her especially after our fight. I felt completely out of my element, wavering in water that I was sure was going to pull me under.

Nick, Jason and I spent the day on the bus drinking and playing some cards. Eric spent the day fighting with Kate because she found out about his random hookup a few nights ago, while JJ slept most of the day. Nick, Jason and I finally called it quits as we got ready to pull into some town for dinner. Heading to my bunk to grab my phone and jacket, the guys head out.

“I’ll meet you inside!” I yell as they climb off the bus. Grabbing my phone I see a missed call and voice mail waiting. I don’t notice the number but instantly I regret listening to the message.

Arizona State Prison: “Son, it’s me. I know you don’t want to talk to me, but please come see me. Forgive me son, I love you. I don’t know what else to say. Just please.”

This is the third attempt the old bastard has made at reaching me in the past six years and just like every other time, I despise him more. I chase the tunneled vision in my eyes and blink away the blur that’s taking over.

Forgive me son, I love you.

To hell you fucking do, bastard! You hurt me over and over again. You beat mom to her death and you fucking took my one love in life. You’re a guilty, old son of a bitch looking for forgiveness in all the wrong places!

There in the confines of the small bunk area on the bus, I slip into manic rage with no self-control. Blackness takes over and I become the Ben in the shadows that no one wants to see. Reaching for my backpack at the foot of my bunk, I dig deep and find my special vile—the vile filled with my medication, the non-prescribed kind.

Cocaine.

Dumping some on the back of my hand I sniff it faster than it has time to settle on my skin. It burns, fucking stings my nose and my eyes instantly water—but it’s the good kind of burn. The burn that promises me a release, a darker side of vengeance.

I put the vile back on my bunk and grab my jacket. Heading off the bus I head in the opposite direction of the restaurant and search out the nearest bar.

Tonight, I will take on my mother’s pain and beg her to forgive me.

§

The town we’re in, on the outskirts of Idaho, has one local bar and it’s crawling with low lives and women who can’t even get better looking on the fourth or fifth drink. I sit at the bar, my eyes watering and my nose itching, as I down another shot. My skin is now coated in a light sheen of sweat and I swear I can feel my hair on my head growing or even the littlest of pieces falling out of place.

All my senses are heightened as I look around for someone—the opponent I want to fight me—to numb me from the outside in, while the only thing keeping me from dying after enough punches to the head is the adrenaline from my cocaine high.

“Come on, baby. Wearing a dress like that means you’re looking for a quick fuck.” I hear the deep voice just down the bar from me say to the pretty waitress. She’s young and I can tell she’s only in this dump to make enough money to leave this shithole town.

The man has a beer gut busting out of his greasy stained shirt, while his trucker hat hangs sloppily on his gray hair.

“Sir, please pay your tab and leave.” The young woman tells him and I watch as he basically fucks her with his seedy eyes.

Bingo. That pig is the winner.

“Don’t be such a cunt. Come on slut, give big papa a ride. I’ll make it feel real good.” He grabs her ass and she turns and slaps him. But it’s too late for her to defend herself, I’ll gladly do the fucking honors.

“Hey!” I stand, running my hand over the back of my neck, cracking and straining my neck from side to side.

“What?” he challenges, standing up like he’s about to intimidate me with his size and age. I don’t care if he’s over two hundred pounds of hamburger meat and forty. He’s not only a piece of shit, but he has the perfect sized fist that I want bruising my face.

“Why don’t you take a step off the girl and go home and play with your small dick, fucker?” I challenge, getting closer.

“Excuse me, son? You might want to rethink who you’re talking to here in these parts.”

“The local pervert? Nah, I think I’m good.” I smirk, flicking my left nostril with a sniff. “You’re just the piece of shit I will gladly fucking set straight.”

“Oh yeah?” he yells taking a few steps closer, his alcohol breath pungent and his stomach jiggling in his white shirt. Getting in my face he points to the exit. “Why don’t you set me straight then, boy?” He pokes my chest and I take a look around the bar, making sure all attention is on me, just how I like it. When the waitress has her eyes glued on us and the other few people in the bar have their jaws on the floor, I nod.

“Gladly, fucker.” With that, I see it all happen before it even does, and I do nothing at all to stop it. I welcome it, fucking count on it.

Rearing his fist back, he puts all his might in his punch and flings his arm forward catching me right in the eye. That was a good one and I’m sure it’ll leave a black eye. But like I always say, if you want to throw a fucking punch, you better make it a damn good one.

With all my effort I tackle the random man to the floor and give him the special treatment. The father treatment. With each punch and failed attempt at retaliation, the real man disappears and my father’s face comes into focus, taking each damn hit like he deserves.

“Fuck you, you piece of shit!” I hit him for the third time, seeing him begin to weaken. People scream, then a loud commotion comes from the door at the front of the bar.

“Ben!” Turning at the sound of Nick and Eric’s voices calling to me, I catch a fist to my jaw and topple over and onto the floor.

Fuck.

The big fucker starts to stand to kick me but before he can, Eric stops him and Nick grabs my arm, pulling me up off the floor.

“You sick son of a bitch! You better hope I don’t fucking run into you again!” The man spits as Nick rushes us out the door. I don’t lose the shit-eating, cocaine induced grin on my face.

That one was for you, old man.

§

“What the fuck were you thinking!” Nick yells at me just a short hour later. Sprawled out on the bus couch with an ice pack on my eye, I don’t answer. I’m still pissed and fucked up from the cocaine.

“Don’t fucking ignore me, Ben!” he yells again. Releasing a deep breath, I count in my head, doing anything I can to keep from losing it on him. It’s one thing when it’s a stranger, but it’s another thing when it’s someone I care about.

Cocaine doesn’t discriminate or play favorites. When I mix it with my disorder, I can’t say anyone is safe to be around me.

“Ben!”

“What! What the fuck do you want me to say!” I throw the ice pack against the wall adjacent to me and it dents instantly.

“You said you wouldn’t do the fighting anymore and then you fucking do a bump and go out like a fucking madman and get into a fight!”

“The fucker deserved it!” I yell, standing and pacing, my hands clenching over and over again at my sides.

“I don’t care! You can’t be getting hopped up on drugs and going out to fight someone. You could kill someone or yourself one day, Ben! This shit isn’t a game!”

“You don’t think I know that?” I punch the wall, nearly breaking my hand as the pain gallops up my arm. “Fuck!”

“God damn it, Ben! Sit down! Now!”

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do!” I go to hit him but he dodges my fist and moves behind me fast enough to catch me off guard. Hearing the boys coming from the bunks as Nick wraps his arms around me, I try to fight, almost breaking free from his bear hug when he grips me tighter.

“Ben! Relax!” he yells in my ear, dragging me to the couch. Pulling my body on top of his, I yell out, still attempting to break free.

“Let me go, Nick!” My bandmates are watching me as I lose myself to the rage.

“Get the shot, Eric. It’s in my shaving kit.”

“Don’t fucking knock me out, Nick!” Whenever I’m too far gone, Nick takes the shot my doctor gives me, which is pretty much Xanax in a fucking syringe and stabs it in deep. Worst part—it knocks me out for hours and I have no control over myself.

“You’re out of it, you can’t control it anymore, Ben.” The room spins and I blink rapidly, thinking of anything in the world that can calm me down. First I see my mother, but that only reminds me that I’m this way cause of the fucker who killed her. Music, I try to think of my music and it still does nothing.

“Get me, Sadie. Fuck, please get me Sadie!” I growl out, water starting to come from my eyes. Not from sadness, but anger because I am too wound up with no way of controling what’s already lost. I need me. I have to find my center again.

“No, I won’t let her see you like this. I won’t let the one good thing in your life leave because you can’t control your temper,” he says and Eric appears with my medicine.

“She won’t. I can calm down if I hear her. Just call her, let me hear her.” I’m desperate and I think of just one word from her mouth and what it can do to me.

“Maybe we could try it man, maybe it will help,” JJ chimes in. I nod my head, thankful I have someone on my side.

“Please.” I stop moving, knowing I have nowhere to go and only one way to get what I want. Already the thought of talking to her has me able to think straight.

“Call her.” Nick holds me still and Eric takes my phone off the table to dial her. With each ring my heart rate drops closer to its normal rate.

“Hey, baby! Sorry I just left choir practice at church! I didn’t want to miss your call.”

“Sadie! Baby, God damn, baby,” I say frantically as if my heart nearly flatlined and she brought me back to life at the last second.

“Ben, are you okay? What’s wrong?” she asks worriedly.

“Yes, I’m fine now. I just…It was…It was a long day and I wanted to hear your voice. God I needed you today.” I don’t know what in my words makes Nick relax, but he loosens his grip and I take the phone from Eric.

“Ben, I’m scared. Did something happen? Is every one alright?”

“Yes, I just had a rough night and I wanted to talk to you. Tell me about your day—anything.”

“Oh okay. Well I had a busy day with studying and then I had to help mama and papa clean out the garage. Then I had choir practice. That’s about it. Ben, are you sure you’re okay?” she asks again. I climb into my bunk and close the curtain. I’m shaking uncontrollably and I can still feel myself lost in the blur.

“Yes, where are you going now? You going home?” I question, pulling at my hair and losing myself on the other end of the line. She has no idea that while she is on the other line absolutely oblivious to what’s really going on, I’m on this end completely failing at getting my self-control back.

“Yes, I have a pot roast cooking for dinner and mama and papa are waiting for me. Did you eat dinner? What town are y’all in anyway?” Her southern drawl makes my body tremors slowly begin to fade—I’m coming back. Keep bringing me home, baby.

“We just left some town in Idaho and no, I haven’t eaten yet.”

“It’s almost eight here, so I’m starved!” She giggles.

“I bet you are. Hey Sadie…” I trail off as she hums a yes into the phone. The sweet noise enough to set me free, to let me breath my first full breath in hours. “Thank you.”

“I don’t know what you’re thanking me for, Ben Cooper, but anytime, handsome.” We both sigh and fall into conversation. Small talk about the other drivers on the road and the short amount of time left before I see her again.

Tomorrow I’m going to have to tell her about my eye, about my anger issues, and fuck me, about my father. Knowing that Sadie had the power to pull me through a rage means that out of anyone in the world, I feel most safe to share that part of me with her. No one has ever been able to pull me through that without my medication or a swift kick to the fucking head.

My saint. Let’s just hope she can love her fucked up sinner.

§