I saw the cogs of thought shifting in her eyes as she realized I was with Jason. “We haven’t got a choice, we’ve been drinking, we can’t take you home.”
Her face screwed up. “Why?” She pointed at Jason, who talked into his cell a few feet away.
“Yeah, Mr. Martin, we just found her, she’s down at the store. She’s drunk.”
She was probably so drunk she’d need her stomach pumped. I’d never seen Lindy this bad. “Lind, how did you get down here?”
She mumbled something but I didn’t understand it.
Jason came back over. “Your dad’s on his way.”
“Go away, Jason! Just fuck off and leave me alone!” Last time I’d seen her she’d been drunk and swearing at Jason.
She tried to stand.
She’d have fallen and smashed her head if I hadn’t caught her. It was no state for a girl to be in. Hell, it was no state for anyone to be in.
She pushed me away and turned to be sick again. Jason came close to help her instead. But she shoved him away too. “You don’t care! Just go away!”
But he did care, and I cared.
We looked at each other.
I felt like shit. The girl was beyond helping; she’d got hurt and broken, and it was like she was unfixable.
“Lindy, I never meant to hurt you. I’m sorry I did…” Jason tried to help her again.
She curled up on the steps, lying on them, her face buried in her crossed arms, looking isolated, even though we stood there.
It cut at me.
Jason straightened up and his hands slipped into his pockets.
I squatted back down. “Lind, it’s okay. Your dad’s coming. You’re gonna be okay.”
She didn’t look like she’d ever be okay, though.
I rested a hand on her back. Her body jerked like she sobbed her heart out, but she wasn’t making a sound.
I looked up at Jason. He pulled his cell out of his pocket. “I’m gonna call Mom, she or Dad can come and pick us up. Rach will get worried if I’m any later.”
His wife had bipolar disorder and I’d never seen a guy as protective of anyone as he was of Rachel. I couldn’t imagine what that must make Lindy feel. She’d been engaged to him until a little over six months ago––then he’d met Rachel.
The guy had back-pedaled at ninety miles an hour. Within two months he’d dumped Lindy, got married to Rachel, and she’d had a kid on the way. That was the baby’s head we’d just been wetting.
Shit. Guilt punched my chest. Maybe I’d been disloyal. My fingers brushed back Lindy’s hair.
She was too difficult, too angry, too judgmental, too everything. That was why I’d given up on her. But she’d been dating Jason for years, and in all those years we’d been friends too. We’d gone to college together.
Jason talked on his cell, walking a few feet away. I guess he’d told Rachel we’d found Lindy.
Tonight had been about a new start, drawing a line on the past, so Jason and I could move on, but we couldn’t when Lindy was like this.
A siren screamed in the distance. It got closer. Shit. I stood up. Jason looked at me and said something to end his call, then slipped his cell back in his pocket.
The cop car sped up Main Street. Its wheels screeched when it pulled up on the parking lot.
Great. Her dad was angry.
The driver’s door opened and Mr. Martin stepped out.
“What’s been going on, boys?”
Jason answered, “We were walking home, Dwayne, and Billy spotted her on the steps––”
“You don’t know what she drank?” Mr. Martin walked over.
I moved out of the way.
Lindy’s parents had used to be really social; we lived in a small town, everyone knew everyone, but I hadn’t seen them for months,
Jason looked down, his gaze scanning the parking lot near Lindy. “There’s nothing around to say she’s drunk anything.”
Her dad squatted down and touched her shoulder. “Lindy?” I’d thought the way he’d pulled up, he’d be shouting at her, but his voice was more concern than frustration.
Jason and I had encountered his temper as kids, the day we’d stolen that spray can. It wasn’t fun.
“Lindy?” he said more strongly when she didn’t answer, or move. He straightened, then bent over her, turning her head. There was absolutely no sign she even knew he was there. He lifted one of her closed eyelids.
All there was beneath it was the white of her eye.
Shit. She was in a hell of a mess.
Mr. Martin sighed like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders as he straightened up and his hand reached to the breast pocket of his shirt. He pulled out a cell, turned his back on us and walked a few feet away.
I looked at Jason. He looked at me. I was sure he felt like I did. Neither of us could move on with Lindy like this.
“Miriam, I’ve got Lindy down here at the Macinlays’ store… Yeah. Don’t worry I’ll sort it. You don’t need to fret, it’s not good for you, but just tell me what time she left home?”
I probably hadn’t seen her mom for more than a year, let alone months.
“Okay. Go check her room would you, she’s been drinking, or taken something, I wanna know which and what…”
There were a few minutes of silence.
“It’s empty?”
“How many were in there, do you know?”
“Okay, I’ll get her some help and call you. Don’t worry, honey. It won’t do you any good to worry, you know that, you have enough going on. She’ll be okay.” He sighed when he ended the call. He didn’t look at Jason or me, just stared into the distance for a moment, then took a deep breath, like he was drawing on some reservoir of strength and patience.
He probably needed it for Lindy, if she’d been this messed-up for six months. No wonder her parents had gone into hiding.
Jason and I looked at each other, waiting on the verdict.
With his back to us, he lifted another cell from a clip on his pants pocket.
“Hi, I’m at the Macinlay store, in Main Street, I need an ambulance, quick time. It’s an emergency. An overdose.” He sighed again. “It’s my girl…” There was so much pain in his voice it hit me hard, and I could see it hit Jason too.
We’d been celebrating a new life in the world… and Lindy… was so unhappy she’d tried to check out. Shit.
“What did she take?” Jason said, when Mr. Martin turned around, clipping the cell back onto his pocket.
He didn’t answer straight off. Lindy probably wouldn’t want Jason to know.
But she’d come down to his store… Fuck. Why?
“She’s taken all the anti-depressant meds she’s been prescribed.” He walked back over to Lindy, and as he moved I caught something glinting in the light by the lamppost behind him. I walked over to get it as he bent over Lindy again.
“And this,” I held it up. “A quarter bottle of vodka to wash them down with.”
“Is she going to be okay?” Jason said, watching Mr. Martin slap her face as he braced it with the