Like Lana

by Danielle Leonard

  Chapter 19

  Is it so Random

  Monday morning comes way too quickly. Even though I’ve spent the last twenty-four hours sleeping, I still feel pretty lousy. I reach for my phone, then remember that Mom took it away yesterday afternoon. Said I need to focus on getting better and not what all my friends are up to. I was too sick to argue. Now I’m panicking, wondering what I’ve missed. How pissed off I’ve made Alysa by not responding to her. And how many messages Demit has sent that went unanswered.

  I am tempted to stay in bed, but I actually want to go to school today. Face the music, as they say. Well, somebody says that.

  “Mom!” I yell as I head into the bathroom to shower. “I need my phone.”

  “Your mother is at the gym,” Dad answers from the kitchen downstairs. “She should be back in the next fifteen minutes.”

  With my head poking out of the bathroom door, I ask, “Do you know where my phone is? I need it, like, now.”

  “No, I don’t know. I haven’t seen it. Ask your mother when she gets back.”

  My heartbeat is picking up its pace. The longer I wait to read my texts, the more I feel my panic rising. Another fifteen minutes feels like an eternity.

  Mom doesn’t get back home until I’m walking out the door. I am beside myself. How does she expect me to survive without my phone? And, go figure, when she finally hands it to me, it’s dead. I was ready to lay into her, but she got so bent out of shape looking for the paring knife to cut up fruit for her smoothie that I couldn’t be bothered. Mom and Dad got into it, instead, blaming one another for the knife that neither of them have been able to find for the past couple days.

  I’m so grateful when I finally see Demit on the bus, I completely forget that he still thinks I’m mad at him. Flopping in the seat beside him, I take a deep sigh of relief. “I haven’t read any texts since yesterday morning. And, can you believe my mom just gave me my phone back and it’s dead?”

  Demit looks steadily at me, his lips downturned. “You haven’t read any texts since yesterday morning?” he repeats.

  “No. Why are you looking so intensely at me?”

  “Have you looked online at all? At anything? Have you heard anything?”

  “You’re starting to freak me out now. Are you that ticked that I didn’t answer your texts? Seriously, I was upset the other night.”

  Demit rubs his hands over his face and looks out the window before turning back to me. “So you don’t know about Stu?”

  My stomach flip flops. “What about Stu?”

  “He’s in the hospital in critical condition.”

  “What?” I can’t possibly have heard him correctly. I saw Stu only two nights ago and he was perfectly fine. Sure, he was a bit drunk. But not as bad as I’d seen other people.

  “Was he in an accident?” I ask.

  “Nobody knows what exactly happened. Apparently, his father went into his room yesterday late in the morning and couldn’t wake him. Called nine-one-one and he’s been in the hospital ever since. Not sure he’s woken up yet.”

  My mind is racing. I left around ten o’clock Saturday night. He was perfectly fine. I feel sick to my stomach. Did he take drugs? Just like Fitz had done? I try not to draw any parallels, but they are forming all on their own.

  “How is this happening?” I say, my hands covering my mouth.

  “I know. It’s freaky. The rumour is that he overdosed.”

  “Like Fitz.” We say it at the same time and stare at each other. The thoughts and visions bombarding my head are overwhelming me now. Did Stu take some of Lana’s meds? The meds I supplied to Lana? Was Demit so angry about me seeing Stu that he showed up that night to do something to Stu? Or is this yet another isolated random incident that doesn’t relate to any of us? Just like Fitz’s death. The conclusion does not sit well with me. Life doesn’t happen that randomly. Someone did something that night to intentionally hurt Stu. I know it in my gut. But who? And, if someone caused Stu’s overdose, then very likely the same person was responsible for Fitz’s death, too. My head is aching more than ever now.

  “Someone did something,” I say. “This is not a coincidence.”

  Demit shrugs. “You don’t know that.”

  “Please! First Fitz, now Stu? Are you kidding me?”

  “There are bigger coincidences in the world than two dumb jocks dying from too much alcohol and drugs.”

  “Stu isn’t dead,” I answer gravely. “And how can you be so callous? This is serious.”

  “I know that. But they’re both assholes, so I’m not going to be too upset about it. And neither should you be.”

  “I’m not upset,” I start, then stop. “Stu said sorry Saturday night. And I believed him. This whole photo thing got way out of control. Stu may be a self-centred egomaniac, but he’s not the type to strategize a person’s downfall from grace. It was all Alysa’s doing. And, even though I don’t want to defend Stu, I’m not going to blame him for everything that has happened to me. We were good when I left his house that night. That’s why we hugged, actually. We both agreed to put it behind us. So, yeah, I do feel kind of bad. This isn’t right.”

  Demit is looking sideways at me. Nods his head. “That’s good. I guess.”

  “I’m not saying Stu’s a saint, okay? But he doesn’t deserve to be in the hospital either.”

  “You’re a bigger person than me,” Demit says. “I can’t forgive him for what he did to you. And I don’t feel bad for him, either. He got what he deserved.” I look down at my hands resting on my bag. Need something to focus on other than this. Something mundane. Requiring no judgement. No fear. No questions about who Demit really is. Who I am. Who any of us are. Are we all actually monsters on the inside? Spending most of our days unaware of the darkness until suddenly there’s a window for it to slither out? Whether it’s in an action, a thought, a judgement. Or just simple hatred.

  “I definitely hated Stu,” I say quietly. “I’ve hated Alysa. I hated Fitz. But am I happy that Fitz is dead and Stu is fighting for his life?” I don’t answer my own question. Demit sits silently beside me. I know my answer is no. I’m not happy. But I do hate. And maybe that’s my monster. That I’ve let the hatred fester. Maybe that’s how I’ve contributed to all the awful things that have been happening. I have no intention of letting go of the hate, though. Don’t know if I could, even if I tried.

  Demit leans over to kiss me on the lips. Despite my frustration and fear, it feels wonderfully sweet. How could someone who makes me feel so special be a terrible person? I don’t know what role, if any, that Demit played in Fitz’s death or in Stu’s predicament. I want to believe he played no part, other than the one I played. He hated. I pray that’s all he did. Have to believe that’s all he has done. The bus arrives at school and we say goodbye at the front entrance. I don’t get very far before I’m cornered by the principal.

  “Lana,” His voice breaks into my thoughts. I see him summoning me toward the office. “Please come this way.” I nod my head and obediently follow his order, finding myself back in the same office from my last visit.

  Officer Maloney is blowing her nose when I walk in. The guidance counsellor isn’t here this time.

  “Hello again, Lana,” she says in a clogged voice. “Excuse the cold. I caught that bug that’s been circulating.”

  “Yeah, me too,” I say, wiping my dripping nose with the back of my hand.

  “Sit,” she says, waving her hand at the chair across from her. This time feels a lot more like an interrogation. I’m wishing Crumbstache was here. Officer Maloney’s knees are less than a foot from my own. I wonder if she can hear my heart pounding as well as I can. The notepad comes out. She flips through it before lifting her face to look at me. A rash of red surrounds her nostrils. Kind of grosses me out, so I look at my hands.

  “You’re pretty busy, aren’t you?” she says with a sniff. No pleasantries this time around.

  “Pardon?”

  “First we find out you’r
e Fitz’s girl and now I learn you and Stu were a couple, too. Pretty big coincidence, no? That one is dead and the other’s life is hanging by a thread?”

  “I had nothing to do with any of this!” I blurt. Then clamp my mouth shut. Easy on the paranoid, I scold myself. Suddenly I remember my blog. How did I not think of it earlier? Demit needs to shut it down now. Is it too late? I wonder. Has Alysa already told the cops? Is that why I’m here right now? I don’t even hear what Maloney is saying to me, too consumed by the voices screaming in my head.

  “Pardon?” I ask.

  “I said I haven’t accused you of anything, Lana. I’m just trying to get the facts.”

  “What are the facts? Is he awake?”

  She shakes her head. “There’s been no change in his condition. Normally I wouldn’t get involved at this point but there’s this weird thing.” She stops talking and stares hard at me. “He has some markings on his body. They’re fresh. Like someone used a knife on him. Carved into his skin.”

  “What?”

  “Why would somebody want to make their mark on Stu? Perhaps for revenge? Get him back for hurting her. Show she’s the one who gets the upper hand. I get it. The guy sent out your porno pic to all his friends. I’d be pissed. I’d definitely consider cutting his balls off, or something.”

  “Are you crazy? No,” My head is pounding so hard that I see black spots around the officer. I can barely see straight. “I wasn’t mad at him. I mean, I was mad. But we had made up. I put it behind me. I would never do anything like that. I don’t understand.”

  “You know he had a party Saturday night though?”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “You were there?”

  I pause before answering. I was barely there. Does twenty minutes count as being there? Then I decide being honest has got to be the best way to go. I have nothing to hide. “Yes, I stayed for about twenty minutes. That’s it.”

  “You’re sure about that?”

  “Yes, absolutely.”

  “Did anyone else see you to corroborate this?”

  I pause again. The only people who would definitely remember seeing me were Stu and Alysa. So, that leaves Alysa. I don’t want to even mention her name. Afraid that any attention to Alysa will lead to more bad things happening.

  “I don’t know if anyone else saw me. I just talked to Stu and then left.” I shrug. My stomach is curdling and I feel sweat soaking through the arm pits of my white shirt. She nods her head and writes in her notepad.

  “It would appear he took some drugs with the alcohol. You know what sort of drugs he’d be taking? Did he do drugs when you were together?

  I shake my head. “No, I don’t remember him ever taking drugs. Booze, sure. But he wasn’t a big drinker either. I mean, once in a while, he would drink a lot. But drugs, I don’t know. I wasn’t aware of him doing any.”

  “You know anything about prescription drugs? Any of your friends doing that sort of thing at parties?”

  “I don’t know.” I wonder if she can tell that I can’t catch my breath. The room feels small. Very small and claustrophobic now. If she ever found out that I gave Alysa pills, what would happen to me?

  “Can you see my concern, though?” Officer Maloney asks, leaning forward. “First Fitz, now Stu. Do you pray Miss Tiller?”

  I blink. Thrown off by her question. “Uh, sure. Sometimes.”

  “I suggest you say some prayers for your ex-boyfriend. You better pray that he survives. Or we have a second death in one school within a month. That will warrant a full investigation.”

  I nod.

  She rises from the chair. “You can head back to class,” she tells me, opening the office door and returning to her chair where she waits quietly until I’m gone.

  It’s second period, and I can barely keep my eyes opened with the pain in my head. But I need to speak to Alysa. Find out what she has said, what she knows. Silently, I curse my mom for leaving my phone dead. I can’t even text her. I decide to go to the library to rest my head on a desk until the period is over. I can’t believe it when I see her scribbling furiously on a table in the middle of the library.

  “Alysa,” I drop my hand on her shoulder. She jumps and jerks her head toward me.

  “What the fuck?” Her eyes are wide and her mouth in a scowl. “You trying to scare the crap out of me?” I roll my eyes.

  “Of course not.”

  “Why haven’t you answered any of my texts. I’ve sent, like, a thousand. Did you hear about Stu? And did you get me more pills yet? I’m on empty now.”

  I wonder how she can ask those two questions in the same breath. Has she always been this cold-hearted? I’m sure the answer is no. She’s changed dramatically in the past year. Her eyes are hollowed out by black rings and she has a smattering of pimples on her chin that I hadn’t noticed two days earlier. She stares at me impatiently, waiting for an answer.

  “I assume you haven’t slept, yet,” I say.

  “Hell, no,” Alysa looks at me and grimaces. “You look like shit.”

  “I look like shit? Look in the mirror. At least I’m sick. What’s your excuse?” I spit back, then shake my head. This is not going in the direction I want. “Listen, tell me what happened at Stu’s after I left. How did this happen?”

  “Can you believe he’s in a coma?” Her eyes widen as she breathes slowly out her mouth. “I don’t know what happened. He was fine one minute and a wreck the next. Then I left.”

  “You left him a wreck? What does that mean? How was he a wreck? Did he take the pills too?”

  She shrugs, dropping her pencil on the paper in front of her. “I don’t remember. I think he did. I think I offered one or two to him.”

  I pull out the chair beside her and sit down, grab her hands. “You need to fucking remember, Alysa!” Then lowering my voice to a raspy whisper. “The cops are back and they’re asking questions. What do you know?”

  “I told you what I know. I don’t remember anything else. I’m telling the truth. Shit, I drank a lot after you left. I kinda blacked out after, um…” Her voice trails off.

  I shake her arms. “After what? Tell me what happened.” Alysa picks up her pencil and begins reading the paper in front of her.

  “Nothing happened,” she replies. “He’ll be fine.” She looks up at me, her dark eyes cool. “Where are the pills you said you’d get me.” I’m so frustrated and angry, it takes all my self-control to not grab her by the neck and strangle her. Then I remember the monster inside of me. Don’t want to keep giving into the hate. Why does she have to make it so hard?

  “I never said I’d get you more pills. I texted you that I’m not getting you anymore. That was it. You’re on your own.”

  “You can’t do that to me! I won’t let you.” She grabs my arm as I rise. I pull her arm off of me and squeeze it hard.

  “Ouch!” She cries. When I let go, I see blood soaking through her sleeve.

  “What the heck?” I say.

  “Shit, Lana.” She gets up from her chair and runs out of the library. I start to follow her, but decide against it. Talking to her is getting me nowhere. I turn to look at the paper she was working on. It’s a university scholarship application. The paper is covered in pencil marks that have been written and erased several times. Now, there’s a smudge of blood on it, too. Why would her arm be bleeding? That must be one heck of scratch if it bleeds that easily. I shudder to consider what kind of hot mess her life has become. Probably, I realize, not that different from my own. She’s authored two terrible lives. Mine. And her own. I stand to leave but my head is spinning faster than ever. The room is growing dim. Then there’s just black.

  Chapter 20

  One of the Good Lunatics

  I wake up in a slightly darkened room, my cheek against a wet pillow. Blink a few times before I figure out I’m in the school office on a cot. The pillow is wet from my own sweat. I wonder how I got here, as I don’t remember anything after seeing Alysa. Slowly, I lift myself up so I’m
sitting. My head is hurting a little less, but I’m still dizzy.

  “You’re awake.” The secretary steps into the room and stands in front of me. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m okay,” I answer, rubbing the back of my head. “How did I get here?” I try not to look at her green dress. It’s too bright for my eyes.

  “Oh dear, you don’t remember walking here?” she asks. “That’s not good. The librarian saw you fall and helped you get back up and walked you to the office.”

  I don’t remember any of that. Lifting my eyes to the clock, I see that an hour has passed since I talked to Alysa. Has she been interrogated by Maloney, I wonder.

  “Weird,” I answer. “I think I’m okay now. Can I leave?”

  The secretary lifts her palms. “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea. You still look pale. We’re trying to get a hold of your parents to come pick you up.”

  “My parents? Please don’t call them. They don’t need to be bothered with this. I’m fine. Really. And, I can call them on my own.”

  “Okay, I’ll leave that up to you. But I think you should wait at least ten minutes before you go anywhere. You don’t want to pass out again. Obviously, you’re sick.” I suddenly feel exhausted again and nod my head. Maybe a few more minutes lying down would be good for me. She exits the room and I suddenly remember I brought my charger for my phone. Eyeing an electric outlet beside the cot, I reach for my bag by my feet and pull out the phone and charger. Within a few minutes, the screen is alight.

  I have fifteen texts from Demit and forty-one from Alysa. Two from my mom. I quickly review Demit’s texts and see he hasn’t sent anything since we spoke this morning. I text him now.

  LANA: Hey, in the office now lying down. I think I fainted in library and blacked out. Was talking to Alysa just before it happened. Before that was interrogated by cop again. Awful morning. I feel like hell and want to die. Seriously. Help!

  DEMIT: Oh no! That’s awful. U ok? How was the cop? U have nothing to hide. Did nothing wrong. U should go back home and sleep.