Juliet the Maniac

by Juliet the Maniac (retail) (epub)

  That was when the shower started. First I saw something so slight it might have been a trick of the eye. Then one more. I made a wish. And then more of them, dozens of them, dozens of wishes falling down from the sky.

  PIZZA PARTY

  Hank got permission for us to leave for AA an hour early, so we could have pizza. It was a bit of a celebration, really. Alyson and I had finally been promoted to Phase Two, and so had Beto.

  It was kind of humiliating, getting to Phase Two the same time as him. Beto had only been at the school a month. Plus he barely spoke English. He was from Guadalajara, said he’d been sent here for smoking crack—which made no sense because why didn’t he just go to a rehab? Still, I liked Beto. He had pretty brown eyes and a mean sense of humor and said a lot of shit that was unintentionally funny. Like how he was going to “broom” the floor, or the time he couldn’t remember the English word for “confused” so he said his brain was like scrambled eggs.

  The annoying thing was the staff clearly wanted to make an example out of him. Beto claimed it was his choice to be here, because he wanted to quit smoking crack and wanted to get better. So he followed all the rules and never talked back and here he was, not even at RTS for a full month but already on Phase Two, could already drink caffeinated soda and go into town to help with the grocery shopping and make phone calls twice a week. Things that had been kept from Alyson and me for four long months.

  I thought we’d go to a Pizza Hut or something, but instead we got some delivered to Hank’s house. He had gifts for us, he said, and then pulled out a paper bag. We each got two containers of dip in the flavors we liked. Cherry for me and Alyson. Copenhagen for Luke. Spearmint for Kiran and Beto.

  His house was kind of a dump, with shitty wood paneling and dark brown carpets. His kitchen table was too small, so most of us ate while sitting on the floor. There were dishes in the sink. Cheap furniture. You would’ve thought he lived alone if it wasn’t for the pictures on the wall, which showed him and his wife, a chubby blond. And then there was the existence of his stepdaughter, which surprised me because Hank had never mentioned a stepdaughter before. She came out of her room and had pizza with us. She was our age, looked like someone I’d be friends with, with her dyed pink hair and nose ring. When we were done eating, she showed me and Alyson her room. It was just like mine before I’d left home—clothes in piles, an unmade bed, pictures from magazines taped to the walls. Our room at school was neat because it had to be, and we weren’t allowed anything on the walls. I didn’t stay in there long.

  She was just like us, except she wasn’t at all.

  When I came back into the living room, all the boys and Hank went silent, looking at me like I’d caught them doing something wrong.

  “What?” I said. “What are you guys doing?”

  But they just giggled and looked at each other.

  “That was some good pizza,” Hank said.

  “Sure was,” said Luke.

  And that was that. And then we left for the meeting.

  TROJANS

  I found out why the boys had been acting weird a few days later. After group, Luke gave me back the sweatshirt I let him borrow a few weeks before, saying he had finally gotten around to washing it. Except I hadn’t let him borrow a sweatshirt. The sweatshirt he’d handed me was his to begin with, but I was smart enough to not say that. Instead, I took it into my room and closed the door. Tucked inside the pocket was a whole strip of condoms, eight of them, in shiny silver wrappers like candy.

  I didn’t even know what we were supposed to do with eight condoms.

  They’d increased the security recently because a few weeks earlier, two kids got caught having sex in the barn. The funny part was who the two kids were. The girl was Angel—who was cool enough but was so chubby and shy. The boy was Gavin, who was short and had braces and a shaved head, and was always trying to act tough and fit in with Beto and Kiran and Luke but actually just had bad ADD and a shoplifting problem. I never thought they would have tried to fuck anyone, and I especially never would have thought they’d try to fuck each other.

  After they got caught, all excess freedom was revoked. Boys and girls weren’t allowed in the same room together unless they were in direct sight of a staff member. This was complete bullshit, especially considering there were rarely more than two staff on at a time anymore, so we were often stuck in some room until a staff person came to get us. The staff seemed annoyed with the new rule too, because instead of doing paperwork or anything that mattered they had to sit around staring at us like we were specimens—but that was better than somebody getting pregnant. It also meant a lot of sneaking around, and a lot of getting caught. The new rule was one of the things that had kept me and Alyson on Phase One for so long.

  I put the condoms back in the sweatshirt pocket, and then folded it and put it in a drawer, pushing it underneath my sweaters. I sat on my bed for a couple minutes, so I didn’t seem suspicious. Then I went back into the great room, with Luke and a few of the others. Rosie was in there, sitting on the couch with a magazine, making sure nobody was doing any touching.

  I took some paper and markers from the shelf, like I was going to draw something. Then I sat down next to Luke. I wrote in very tiny letters:

  But Luke didn’t say anything. He just smiled at me.

  Later, during school, Luke and I were supposedly quizzing each other on science, but actually we were talking about condoms.

  “So Hank gave them to us, a strip to each of the boys, when we were at his house,” Luke whispered.

  “Damn. That’s cool of him.”

  “He even said he would help us use them. We can get in the back of the van when we drive to AA.”

  The teacher walked by. “Which is the heaviest noble gas?” I said, pretending to be very absorbed in our flash cards.

  “Easy,” Luke said. “Radon.”

  I lowered my voice again. “That’s kind of creepy.”

  “I think he just knows how sexually frustrated we are. He said it would help relieve stress and anger and all that shit. But he doesn’t want anyone pregnant, which is why he’s so big on the condoms.”

  It made enough sense to me. Then Luke said we were up first, that he’d beat Kiran in a game of rock-paper-scissors. We were scheduled to fuck the very next day.

  SEX TAPE

  I thought about it all during breakfast and chores and school and group and lunch and chores and group and dinner. Finally it was time to leave for the meeting. I was nervous. I hadn’t had sex in so long. The lyrics from Madonna’s “Like a Virgin” kept playing in my head. I had shaved my legs and shaved my pussy the night before, or at least done the best job I could with my shitty electric razor. I was wearing my cutest underwear and cutest bra, a black satin set I’d stolen a lifetime ago from Victoria’s Secret with Nicole.

  We got in the van like normal, with me and Luke in the back row. I was wearing the sweatshirt. I tried to smile but my hands were shaky and I kind of felt like I might cry. Then Luke put his hand over mine, and I looked up at him and his blue eyes met mine and I could feel something crackle between us, a force that was equal parts blessed and damned.

  Hank stopped the van right before we got on the main road, turning the volume up on the music. We crawled over the seat into the very back, where we always put the groceries. There was a pillow and a blanket back there. I guess Hank had snuck them in before we left.

  We pulled the blanket over us and lay with both our heads on the pillow, just looking at each other for a second. And then he kissed me, his hand in my hair, his hand on my back, his hand in my pants. We both slid down our jeans and there was that awkward moment when he put on the condom and then he was inside me and the pleasure surged in a slow wave up my back, crashing into my head. I closed my eyes to concentrate and I no longer had a body, was no longer a human but an object and I let the feeling swirl around me. I rolled on top of him and it wasn’t like the sex I’d had before, which always felt frenzied and awkward.
>
  This felt like being in love.

  At one point I splintered out of it, turned back into what I was, a teenager having sex in the back of a moving van full of other teenagers.

  I caught Hank’s eye in the rearview mirror.

  He was watching us.

  He held eye contact for a fraction of a second, then looked back at the road, and then back at me.

  For a second I wanted to stop.

  But—the creepy feeling was quickly overridden by something else.

  I shook my hair, threw my head back, bit my lip. I was beautiful. I was glorious.

  It didn’t last long. I curled into Luke’s chest and kissed his mouth and then it was over. We pulled up our pants and climbed back into our seat.

  * * *

  —

  I kept waiting for somebody to say something but nobody did. I kept waiting for somebody to make a joke. But everyone acted like nothing had happened. So Luke and I did the same.

  * * *

  —

  Except we held hands all through the meeting and for once it didn’t feel pathetic or desperate or virginal. His palms were hot and moist and I couldn’t stop thinking He’s been inside me.

  LATER

  For some reason I didn’t tell anyone about Hank watching us. Not even Luke.

  But it was something I often thought about.

  THE KIDS THAT LEFT #2

  This new kid was different from all the other new kids. His name was Tasafi, he was from Iran, and he looked middle aged even though he couldn’t have been more than seventeen. He didn’t speak much English but somehow had a lot of cigarettes and was fine with sharing, so nobody made fun of him for his accent or dorky clothes. New kids at the school were always interesting, watching their stories unspool: a kid who seemed meek might have been sent for stealing cars and fighting, someone who seemed like a typical popular kid might end up slashing their arms. I was curious to find out Tasafi’s story because it had to be weird. Since he couldn’t even speak English, I figured it would take a while.

  The boys went to the gym in Yreka one Tuesday. We did this often enough on weeknights, the boys one night, the girls the next. This time, the boys came back two hours late, the kids excited, Vinnie and Hank panicked. At first I assumed it had to be an elaborate ruse, some prank that was the result of another lapse in the counselors’ judgment. When they said Tasafi had run away, it seemed impossible. The school was literally miles from anything—the closest structure was the barn of the neighboring horse ranch, and Redwood Trails was so small that everyone in town knew what to do with an unfamiliar teen. But Tasafi was smart. He realized that if he was going to run away, he would have to do it in Yreka, a place where a stranger wouldn’t be noticed.

  It happened in the locker room. One minute he was there, one minute he was gone. Cops were called but they found nothing. He’d vanished. Later, someone heard he’d hopped a train, was free for several weeks until he was finally apprehended in Southern California. Maybe that was just a rumor. Maybe he’s still train hopping around the coast, smoking his weird cigarettes.

  THANKSGIVING BREAK

  Bill said

  I shouldn’t

  Be allowed

  To go home

  For the holiday

  There was some debate

  Between him and me

  And Carly and

  My parents

  In the end

  I was allowed to go

  But only because of my

  Wisdom teeth

  Which were breaking through

  Impacted

  The doctor gave me

  Vicodin

  And I spent the four days

  In my parents’ bed

  High

  Watching all the R-rated movies

  I’d missed

  My mother brought me milkshakes

  And, on Thanksgiving, mashed potatoes

  I wasn’t allowed to see my friends

  Except once Holly came over

  Crying because she missed me

  With photos of all the things I

  Had ceased to be

  A part of

  And I felt a twinge of loneliness and

  Something not unlike

  Nostalgia

  But mostly all I felt

  Was warm and safe

  And high

  ALYSON’S HOLIDAY

  Because she still wasn’t speaking to her father, Alyson had stayed at the school over Thanksgiving. Everybody else went home. There was a question of what to do with her. Finally, Vinnie and Shauna said she could stay with them.

  I found out what had happened as soon as I got back because Alyson was waiting for me in our room. I put my bags down and she closed the door. Her face was all swollen, a scrape on her cheek and a big black eye, so bad that the white was blood-red.

  “I’ve got something to tell you,” she said. I figured it was a fight, with another student or some kid in town. I was wrong.

  Apparently things with Vinnie and Shauna had gone fine at first. They’d played board games and watched movies at night; Alyson helped out with their two kids during the day. They had Thanksgiving dinner at their house, just the five of them, a family, everything homemade by Shauna. But on Saturday, Vinnie and the kids went to Redding to see his parents. Shauna and Alyson stayed home. They ended up getting drunk—really drunk—on cheap vodka purchased at the general store. Both of them blacked out. Alyson didn’t know how she got the black eye, she just woke up that way, sore and bruised.

  They had sworn to each other they wouldn’t tell anyone. Shauna said she didn’t see the harm in one night, wouldn’t even consider it a relapse because it was just temporary. But Vinnie got home early the next day. So early that Shauna was still drunk. She thought she could pull it off anyway. But then she started puking.

  Alyson had been sleeping in the kids’ room when he got home, and the two children were put in there with her while Vinnie and Shauna fought. “Really brought me back,” Alyson said, “listening to Mom and Dad scream from the other end of the house, closed up in a room with my little brother.” Vinnie was yelling like he thought it was the old days, back when he and Shauna used to get in the epic fights they’d told us about, before they both got sober and had kids. He was yelling like he hoped Shauna might throw something. She didn’t. He even threatened to leave her. But all she did was cry.

  In the end, they decided to work things out. Shauna would go to AA every night, she promised. Vinnie made her confess, which seemed stupid of him. That was this morning. Now, Shauna no longer worked at the school. She’d been fired.

  By the time Alyson finished telling the story, I was so jealous of her black eye my stomach hurt. We were sitting on the floor, our backs against her bed. I moved my finger near her cheekbone, where the bruise was darkest, the skin swollen taut in violent smudges of purple. I wanted to touch it. I didn’t touch her. It looked too painful. I hovered there for a moment, and she was perfectly still, staring straight ahead like she was waiting for me to hurt her, before touching my own cheekbone instead. The skin under my finger was smooth and soft.

  PATIENT LOG

  PATIENT NAME: Juliet Escoria

  AGE: 16 yrs 3 mo

  SEX: F

  DOB: 8/23/83

  DATE: 11/29/99

  HISTORY: Patient’s behavior log continues to indicate impulsivity issues. Cont. involvement romantically with other patient LUCAS WEBER. No reported hallucinations. Experiencing increased anxiety; mild depression.

  Drug test positiv e for opiates due to recent surgery (oral). Otherwise clean.

  Reported side effects of lethargy, muscle pain, upset stomach, hair loss (mild) (cont.).

  PREVIOUS MEDICATIONS:

  Zyprexa—discontinued 01/99 once stabilized

  Wellbutrin—discontinued 03/99 (ineffective)

  Tegretol—discontinued 07/99 (risk of overdose/replace w Depakote)

  Paxil—discontinued 7/99 (tremors)

  Remero
n—discontinued 8/99 (weight gain/replace w Zoloft)

  TREATMENT:

  Cont. Depakote at 1500mg/nightly

  Cont. Trazodone 25mg/nightly (for insomnia)

  Cont. Zoloft 50mg/nightly (for anxiety/depression)

  Begin Buspar 15mg/nightly (for anxiety)

  Cont. group therapy, indiv. therapy, 12-step group

  GAY SEX

  A new girl arrived at the school. Christina. She was shy, not as pretty as me and Alyson, not quite as funny, but she was cool, did drugs and had sex, told interesting stories, and liked cute clothes and makeup. She slid into her place at school, halfway hanging out with Angel, her roommate, when she wanted to be good, halfway hanging out with us.

  One night we were all in the kitchen before bed, the four of us girls, along with Beto, Kiran, and Luke. We were talking about being gay. It seemed weird that none of the kids here were. We didn’t even suspect anyone. “Maybe there’s a rule against it here,” Kiran speculated, but we decided against it, figuring it discriminatory. It also didn’t make sense, because RTS accepted students that other schools wouldn’t.

  Then we started talking about gay sex, and whether anyone had had any. All the other girls had—even chubby nerdy Angel had once felt up a girl. The most I’d ever done was kiss Nicole at a party, but that was just because we were drunk and somebody told us to, and it was just for a second anyway. Luke had even made out with a couple of boys, had thought for a while he was bi. All these secret-world stories, right beneath the surface, a range of possibilities I’d been too boring to think of on my own.

  A couple nights later, no one was paying much attention to any of us. Stephen, who everyone liked because he was so nice, even though he was schizophrenic and only ever really talked to Kiran, had spent the entire evening in a fit, crying and cursing through dinner so loud they ended up making him eat alone in the bedroom, where he punched a hole in the wall. He did stuff like that sometimes. So the staff did what they always did—put out the cot in the office, where somebody could keep an eye on him all night. That was what Carly, the girls’ counselor that night, was doing. Hank was downstairs with the boys, so we were left to ourselves.