“And the bad news is your knee is fine. Gotcha. Up for your regular?”
“No. Step it up a notch.”
“That’s gonna be double the price and will take me a few days. You ain’t the only one out there hurting.”
“Days? I—no, I’ll figure something out. Thanks.”
“Give me a few minutes, will you? Yikes, you’re antsy. I’ll text you.”
Disconnecting the call, Callie glanced at the front door. She only had twenty dollars in her wallet, which was what she usually paid Lisa for two Xanax bars. Callie ran inside the house and up to her mother’s room, knowing she kept cash hidden in an old shoebox on the top shelf of the closet for emergencies.
“She won’t miss sixty bucks. Besides, I’ll land a job soon since track season is over for me and replace it.”
Callie waited for ten minutes, willing a text from Lisa to appear on the screen while pacing in small circles. When it didn’t, she stuffed the money into her running pack and then grabbed the house keys and cell phone. Pausing at the door, she decided to leave the cell in case her movements could be traced through GPS. An obscure memory of either Kevin mentioning something along those lines, or maybe even something she’d seen on TV or read online, warned her to leave her steps as clean as possible. Callie shoved the cell into her school bag then sprinted out the door.
While running down the tree-lined sidewalk toward a place she’d only visited in nightmares, a small piece of her mind whispered what she was doing was wrong. It whined and nagged about how far she’d fallen.
Callie ran faster, pushing the thoughts away, driven by urges she didn’t understand yet couldn’t ignore. Once she arrived at her destination, the fear she’d experienced during the dream was gone, replaced by determination and the overwhelming desire to do whatever necessary to see Colton’s face.
Stopping at the edge of the sidewalk, Callie noticed the former athlete on the top porch step, watching her with dark, hooded eyes. His lips curved into a snide grin. A big dog was chained up on the other side of the fence, so Callie didn’t open the gate. She kept her face a sea of calm while nodding at De’Shawn.
“Always knew you’d come around. Using’s a family affair. Gotta say, it took you longer than I figured after your injury. You all washed up now?”
“How did you—?”
“Word travels fast in this town, especially when it’s about a semi-famous athlete. So, blew your knee out?”
“No, I’m fine. Minor injury but to be safe, I’m sitting out the rest of the season.”
“Smart girl. Wouldn’t want to ruin those legs before college, huh? So, let me guess: you’re here for the same thing as your bro?”
Shaking her head, Callie answered, “I’m not a junkie, De’Shawn. I’m still in pain and need some Hydros. My doctor won’t refill my prescription, and I’m having trouble finding some. Got any?”
De’Shawn stood and walked over to the gate. The way his gaze moved over Callie’s body made her want to punch him in the throat.
“I don’t do any deals unless I’m sure they’re legit. I’ll need to check you for a wire. Come inside. Just watch your step. Ol’ Hercules bites.”
Once inside the filthy house, Callie ignored the bile rising in her throat as De’Shawn’s hands poked and touched every inch of her body. He removed the running pack, yanking out the keys and cash, tossing the contents onto the couch. Satisfied she wasn’t wired, De’Shawn asked, “How many you want?”
The experience was entirely different than dealing with Lisa in the bathroom or the park. Callie swallowed hard, thinking back to all the movies she watched, searching for similar scenes so she’d say the right thing. “I need four.”
De’Shawn laughed as he reached around Callie, scooping up the money. “You think eighty bucks is gonna get you four Vicos? That’s funny.”
Panic welled up in Callie’s chest. “Please, I need four. It’s what it takes to—”
“To numb the pain inside your head? Yeah, I’ve heard that before,” De’Shawn whispered, inches from Callie’s lips. “But you ain’t got enough cash, baby.”
Callie’s voice cracked. “It’s all I’ve got right now! I don’t have a job. I can get more tomorrow.”
“Cash-n-carry, that’s the way this game works. This here eighty dollars only buys two, unless you can think of something else you have to offer as payment? You mentioned you don’t have a job?”
Instead of answering, fearful of what was coming next from De’Shawn’s mouth, Callie shook her head.
De’Shawn’s hands were suddenly on her again, stroking and caressing her back, butt, and crotch. “You’ve grown up since the last time I saw you on the track and filled out real nice—lots of muscle and curves. So, I’ll tell you what, Callie. I’ll give you an entire month’s supply—for free—in exchange for two things.”
Dread filled Callie’s heart as she asked, “What things, De’Shawn?”
A sinister grin crossed De’Shawn’s face. “Watching you suck my dick then working for me. I need a new dealer at your school. Do me right, sell what I give you each month, and I’ll let you have all you want for free—both pills and a big dick.”
Though sickened by the proposition, the offer of unlimited pills freed Callie up from the worry of ways to acquire more.
“It’s a good deal, Sis. Don’t let your silly pride or prudishness get in the way! It’s just a dick. A few licks and it’ll be over. Easy stuff. Then, we’ll never be apart if you do it right, and you won’t have to steal money from Mom. Isn’t that great?”
Choking back a sob from anguish at what she was about to do, mixed with the thrill of hearing Colton’s voice inside her mind again, Callie dropped to her knees.
“Yeah, that’s it girl. Always knew you were kinky. Gonna call you Kinky Callie. Show me how bad you want it,” De’Shawn whispered between moans. “Show me how bad you want to ease the pain.”
Callie closed her eyes and focused on the prize instead of the humiliation, just like she learned to do while in pain when running.
CHAPTER FIVE
Graduation Night – Three Months Later
The gym decorations were fun and festive. Blue and gold streamers, bright lights, and countless balloons tied to the chairs transformed the space into a party zone. A pang of regret nearly made Callie gasp as the processional of students walked down the aisle. She wished her father was in the bleachers, sitting next to his wife watching yet another milestone of their children together. Looking over at the empty seat to the right, a lump of tears pressed against her throat. Someone had placed a card in the middle of the chair. In loopy cursive were the words In honor of Colton Caleb Novak. Gone but never forgotten.
“None of these fools cared about you when you were alive,” Callie whispered while wiping a tear away.
“A few did. Wow, graduation. Remember how we used to dream about this day? How exciting the freedom of adulthood sounded?”
Colton’s words were full of bitterness and regret. Hearing them made Callie feel the same. She couldn’t stand to look at the card any longer. Snatching up the paper, she crushed it until nothing remained but a ball the size of a half-dollar. Yes, I remember.
The graduation committee went all out, determined to make the experience memorable. Kevin was part of the committee, and Callie wondered if the notecard was his idea.
While the speeches were given and applause thundered all around as each student’s name was called, Callie’s mind wandered. In a few months, she’d be in college, thanks to Ricky Weaver’s help. Kevin had been right: Ricky was a math whiz, yet the boy was painfully shy. It took two weeks before he stopped blushing and stumbling over words and the real teaching started. Callie worked hard to understand the confusing equations, but when it came time to take tests, she went blank. At Ricky’s urging, Callie turned in extra credit work and somehow, managed to pass the class with a C—a grade she was grateful to get.
Determined not
to get caught or arouse any suspicion, once Callie started dealing for De’Shawn, she only took pills at night. True to his word, De’Shawn gave her two baggies each month—one with of product to be sold and the other crammed full of her personal stash. She forced herself to slow down on how many she took each night—cutting back to two at a time and only four on weekends—after it dawned on her she could make extra cash by selling some of her own. She’d managed to squirrel away five hundred dollars and knew she’d be able to double, maybe triple that amount, in college. Before Christmas, she’d have enough to buy a cheap car. Callie had a host of regulars who bought from her, and she’d been surprised at the vastly different types of students who indulged.
Callie wasn’t living the life she’d anticipated and meticulously planned for years, but she was making it, along with a strange cultural mix of new friends, which kept her occupied while Kevin and her mother worked. The connection with Colton strengthened during the past few months to the point she felt his presence all the time. Things at home weren’t great, yet they were tolerable. The lawsuits were settled and talk of filing bankruptcy ceased. Once each week, Callie attended counseling sessions with her mother, rarely joining the discussion. Most of the time, when prodded for an answer, Callie gave short, simple responses then let the tears come.
She wouldn’t say a friendship had developed between her and De’Shawn, but there was a weird sense of mutual admiration. He respected the fact Callie sold everything he gave her and never shorted him, always delivering the money promptly. Callie appreciated the fact he never prodded for sexual favors again.
When her name was called, Callie walked across the makeshift stage, pausing to smile for photos. The ceremony lasted less than two hours, and then everyone hugged each other, tears of joy, sadness and excitement staining the faces of the majority of the student body.
Callie searched for Kevin, finally spying him in the crowd. He nodded and smiled, pointing to the parking lot. They’d planned out the entire evening, starting with a celebratory dinner with his family and her mom, followed by an evening at her house spent binge watching every “Star Wars” movie. Callie smiled, thinking how funny it was Kevin hated horror movies because of their unrealistic characters yet didn’t see the same was true for sci-fi themed films.
The night would be boring but perfect. Callie wouldn’t need any pills to sleep—the Force would lull her into slumber-land on its own.
Callie’s purse buzzed, so she stepped away from the throng of students toward the bathroom. Extracting the cheap burner cell phone she’d purchased at Walmart, Callie flipped it open. Laughing while reading the text from a somewhat familiar number begging for some pills, Callie grinned. It would be the tenth sale of the day. She only had about twenty left. “At this rate, I’ll be out of product before midnight! Guess people are ready to party after graduation!”
Meet me at the bus depot out back in 5 Callie texted back.
Stepping out into the gym once again, Callie searched for her mother. She spotted her talking with Kevin and his parents near the front entrance. After a quick gaze around the gym, searching for Coach Patterson, the grin spread as she watched him disappear out a side door. Perfect cover!
Pulling her regular cell, Callie sent a text to Kevin. Be right back. Going to say goodbye to Coach P. Meet u at your car in 10.
Watching to make sure Kevin received and read the text, she smiled and waved. He did, too, but for a fleeting moment, Callie noticed a strange look cross his face. While walking out to the bus depot, she wondered if the emotional impact of graduation was bothering him.
The big yellow buses sat in silence, all lined up in precise rows. Callie noticed a body leaning against the one furthest from the parking lot lights, though she couldn’t make out whether it was male or female until about twenty yards away. When less than five feet apart, Callie’s mouth dropped open from shock. “Ricky?”
“Hey, Callie. Surprised?”
“Beyond. All these months filling my brain with solutions to equations and you never said a word.”
Ricky fidgeted from one foot to the next. Callie wondered if this was his first drug purchase.
“My aunt gave me a card with fifty dollars cash. Is that enough to get some hydrocodone pills?” Ricky asked.
“Something’s wrong, Sis. Don’t trust him.”
Colton’s voice made her feel uneasy. Callie took a step backward. Colton was right. The way Ricky asked was too formal—too tentative. “Who gave you the number?”
For a split second, the boy looked like a deer caught in headlights. The look wasn’t unusual. Callie knew Ricky had a major crush on her—but something about his demeanor was off—weirder than normal.
Licking a set of thin lips, Ricky blinked twice. “I, uh, well, I asked Lisa Bowers, and she told me to fuck off. She, um, mentioned your name while walking away.”
“That’s bullshit,” Colton whispered.
Callie’s unease shifted to anger. Ever since she stopped buying pills from Lisa, the two hadn’t spoken a peep to each other. “That doesn’t explain how you got this number. Did you pilfer through my phone behind my back while tutoring me? Tell me the truth, or I’ll lay you out right here. I’ll give you enough pain you’ll need Hydros for sure.”
Ricky’s gaze darted to the left at the same time Callie heard the sound of gravel crunching. Spinning around, assuming she was about to get jumped and possibly robbed, she froze. It took her mind a few seconds to produce a plausible story. “Kevin? Hey, look who I ran into? I was just thanking Ricky for—”
“Stop lying, Callie. I heard it all and recorded everything right here,” Kevin said while holding his phone.
The look on his face and the shimmer of tears behind his beautiful eyes reinforced the words. The emotional pain of hurting the man she loved didn’t last long. Rage at being set up overshadowed it. From behind her, the sound of Ricky scurrying away like a frightened rabbit sent waves of fury throughout Callie’s chest. “You put him up to this, didn’t you?”
“I did. And if you don’t follow instructions, everyone will hear and see what I just did.”
“You son-of-a-bitch!” Callie screamed, lunging for the phone.
“One more step and I’ll post it everywhere.”
Shaking with fury, Callie stepped back and glared at him. “What do you want from me?”
Pointing to the parking lot, Kevin answered, “Give me your purse and get in the car. Say anything else or try something stupid like attacking me again and you’ll regret it.”
Gripping her purse tighter, Callie yelled, “Traitor! How dare you try to control me like I’m something you own! Go ahead, post it. Tweet. Share. Text. I don’t care what you do because we’re done.”
“You’re wrong, Callie. If you don’t get help, you’re the one who’s done.”
Coach Patterson’s stern voice broke through Callie’s rage. Turning, she faced him, shocked to see his eyes were glazed over with tears. “Did you just threaten me?”
“Callie...stop and think about who you’re talking to and what you’re saying to us! We love you and want you to get help! We’ve all suspected, but we knew without solid proof, you’d just keep lying to us. To yourself. Please, babe, get in the car and let us—”
“What?” Callie interrupted. “Take me to rehab? Is that your plan? If so, you’ve ruined graduation for nothing because there’s no way I’m going.”
“You will, or the Board of Directors at UALR will find a disturbing video in their inboxes on Monday morning, sent anonymously of course,” Coach Patterson added.
“You’d really let him do that to me, Kevin? Take away my one shot at college? Ruin my life? I thought you loved me?” Callie gasped.
Stepping forward, Kevin looked her directly in the eyes. The amount of grief behind them made a lump of tears form in Callie’s throat.
“If it means saving your life, yes. I do love you...always and forever. I’m willing to break my own
heart to fix yours.”
The words tore down the shields inside her heart. With a slight nod of agreement, she reached for Kevin’s hand and let him lead her to his car, Coach Patterson only a few steps behind.
Hours later, the tears long gone after watching her mother and Kevin leave the rehabilitation facility, the first chill of fear slithered up Callie’s spine. The fear mixed with simmering anger after glancing at the bag prepacked by her mother resting on the bench across the room. When Kevin pulled into the driveway and Coach Patterson followed them inside, Callie was stunned to find her mother, Dr. Brunson, and Mikki Taylor in the living room. They were like spiders ready to pounce on the unsuspecting meal caught in the sticky web. Mikki—the traitorous therapist—took the lead of the “intervention” as she called it, while everyone else nodded and cried.
Though she’d been furious, Callie knew she was trapped. Her angry, hateful words seemed to fall on deaf ears. No one budged from their stances, each pleading and begging Callie to seek treatment. Callie refused, repeating she didn’t have a problem, could stop anytime she wanted, and they were all crazy.
It wasn’t until her mother fell to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably about how she’d die if something bad happened to her remaining child, Callie caved.
Mind still reeling from the events of the last four hours, Callie listened halfheartedly while the intake coordinator whose tag read simply “Sherry – Your partner at New Beginnings” asked question after question.
“How long and what kind of drugs do you use?”
“Xanax for about eight months; Vicodin close to four.”
“When was last ingestion? Be honest, please.”
Callie glanced up at the clock on the wall. Way too long. “About twelve hours.”
“Any IV drug use?”
“Uh, no,” Callie winced. “I’m not a junkie. That was my brother.”
“Nice, Sis. Real nice,” Colton shot back.
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