Maddy
My sister officially had the worst timing in the world. She’d shown up, high and drunk off her ass, at my old apartment, screaming my name. Bless my roommates for not calling the cops. They’d let her in and had tried to sober her up. Then they called and told me all about the track marks on her arms.
I took off work, told my parents, and drove into the city, hoping to talk some sense into her one last time. My gut churned at the thought of something happening to Sara. Why did it always feel like the last time whenever I saw her?
It had taken a while to find street parking, so it was getting late. I took the elevator, anxiety filling my veins, making my blood feel cold inside my body. I knocked on the door.
Venus, a gorgeous Asian model who looked too pretty to exist in real life, who also had a heart of gold, answered. Her bow-shaped lips pressed into a thin line as she put her hands on the hips of her low-slung jeans and black belly shirt. The sound of her bangles moving set me on edge even more.
“She’s in your old room,” she said in a quiet voice. “We tried to get her to sleep it off, but she’s a wreck. I don’t even want to know what that girl has in her body. She needs a shower, and we left some clean clothes in there for her.” Her eyebrows drew together in concern. “Maddy, she’s not your problem.”
“She’s family,” I admitted softly. “She’ll always be my problem.”
I measured the steps to my old bedroom.
Twelve.
I knocked on the door lightly then opened it when I didn’t hear an answer.
She was lying face-down on the bare mattress.
I kicked the mattress, as angry tears ran down my cheeks. When she didn’t stir, I kicked it again and again.
Finally, she moved to a sitting position and groggily looked up. “Sis?”
“We’re going home.”
She snorted. “I’m not going anywhere, just partied too hard. I’ve got a few jobs lined up and—”
“Bullshit!” I screamed, so angry at her, angry at myself, angry at the world, angry that I wasn’t home with Jason. Angry that I hadn’t given him my number so he wouldn’t think I was cutting and running again. “You’ll get a job, get your first paycheck, and either inject or snort it — whatever you can find first. You have two choices.”
Sara looked away, her eyes distant.
“We either drive home right now, or I drive you to the police station on charges of possession.”
She scoffed. “I don’t have any drugs on me.”
“Doesn’t matter. They’ll give you a drug test, look at your criminal record, and throw you into jail for a few days while you sober up enough to want to scratch the paint from the walls.” I shrugged. “If you go home, we can take you to the rehab center there. It’s not as intense as some of the ones in the city.”
“I’ll think about it.” She sniffed and rubbed her nose. Her blond hair was stringy, her face like a skeleton. I used to want to be her, as a young girl had always looked up to her. All it had taken was one good-looking actor to look her way and offer her party drugs, and she was hooked.
Took them through college to stay alert.
Then took them to find peace and rest.
She fell before she’d even known she’d taken a step.
“You have three seconds.” I crossed my arms. “One, two—”
“Why are you such a bitch?” she yelled.
“Because I have to be,” I whispered. “Because I need you. Because Annabelle needs you.”
Her face lit up.
I knew she still loved her daughter when she wasn’t high or drunk. Annabelle was the only good thing she’d accomplished.
“Fine.” She stood on shaky stick legs. “I’ll go.”
We drove back to New Haven in silence.
The shakes started on the outside of town, and then her teeth were chattering uncontrollably, regardless of the coats from the back seat I’d dumped on her. By the time we got to the house, I only had enough time to knock on the door and tell my parents I was taking her for treatment. I had no idea how bad things had gotten and I was worried that keeping her at the house would end up in a 911 call. I asked them to call ahead because her situation kept getting worse.
Withdrawal could kill a person. And she didn’t have much on her body anymore.
I felt her head as she leaned against the window, tears streaming down her face as she clenched her teeth.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”
I wasn’t sure I believed it, but I had to be strong for both of us. I hit the accelerator and ran through a red light just as a siren sounded behind me.
Really? I never get a ticket, and now I’m getting pulled over?
“Hold tight.” I tucked her in as best I could and hit the down button on my window as a light landed on my face, blinding me.
“Make a habit of running through red lights?” came Jason’s smooth voice.
And something about his tone, or maybe the way he smelled, and I just burst into big, fat, ugly tears.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa… It’s just a red—” He flashed the light across the seat and pointed it back at me. “What’s going on?”
“She was back in the city — said she’d go to rehab — withdrawals—” I hiccupped then tried to calm down, even though I was hyperventilating. When he opened up the car door and pulled me roughly against his chest, I clung to him like he was my lifeline. And he let me.
“I’ll escort you. Can you still drive?”
I nodded against his chest.
“You taking her to the center?”
Another nod.
“I’ll drive ahead of you. We can get her there in two minutes. They know she’s coming?”
I sniffled. “I think my parents called.”
“I’ll call, too, on my way. Let’s go.”
And for some stupid reason, I blurted, “Ride like the wind, bulls-eye.”
He just stared at me, sadness etched across his features as he nodded. “Ride like the wind.”
I’d always told him that before each game; it had been a joke. We’d loved movies and Toy Story had been a personal favorite for no other reason than we’d been best friends since we could talk, and it had been our thing back in the day.
He pressed a hard kiss to my forehead then ran back to his car. Sirens on, he peeled out in front of me.
I hit the accelerator and followed both my heart — and my savior.