Color
Blind
Lalla Squeglia
Copyright © Lalla Squeglia,
2011
Cover Artwork Copyright © by Lalla Squeglia
Smashwords Edition
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials.
Chapter One
“Boy? You home?”
The teenager sighed and ran his hands through his hair. His back still hurt from last night’s beating, and he probably had another one in store for being late.
“It’s me.”
“Come here.”
He went into the living room. His father was removing a needle from his upper arm. He looked up and asked, “Know what this is?”
“Heroin?”
“Yes. Ever tried it?”
“No.”
“Do you want to?”
He hesitated. His father wasn’t angry-yet-but he didn’t know which answer would set him off.
“I guess.”
His father smiled.
“Come here. I’ll show you how it’s done.”
He went to the couch and sat down.
“Good. Roll your sleeve up…that’s it. Here, you can have this one. I was saving it for myself, but since it’s your first hit and all, I don’t want you preparing it. You’ll fuck it up, like you do with everything else.”
The boy flinched under the words, but he knew they were true.
“Just stick the needle in a vein. Don’t matter which.”
The boy brushed his black hair from his eyes and took the needle. There was a sharp prick.
“Great. Inject it. Slowly.”
He did, watching the clear liquid slither into his arm.
“How long ‘til it works?”
“A few minutes.”
They sat in silence, watching a cartoon cat run into a wall. After a few minutes, the boy began feeling good. Drowsy, but better than he ever had in his life. His back no longer ached, and he was almost…happy? Yes, that’s what this was. Better than happy.
“Feels good, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“You got homework?”
“Can I sit here and watch the rest of this with you, Dad?”
“Sure.”
The father tousled his son’s hair. The boy tried not to flinch away, but luckily his father didn’t notice when he did. The boy was fifteen years old, and he was experiencing two firsts. His first high, and his first peaceful memory with his father.
Chapter Two
Nancy Hale was sure of two things: that men were assholes, and that she was in desperate need of chocolate. The former was a very justified opinion, brought about by her employer, Dr. Samuel Grey. The latter was a bona fide need, not a craving. There was a half-melted chocolate bar in her purse that would fulfill the need nicely. She ate it, looked at the mountain of paperwork, and breathed a sigh of relief that it was Friday. No work for two whole days. She looked out at the rainy Seattle sidewalk and hoped she could get off early today. She wanted to go home to her junk food and some cartoons and her teddy bear. And maybe a blankie.
The door opened, nearly imperceptibly, and a young man came in. He had short black hair, ghost-white skin, a fading bruise on his face, and he was tall and skinny. He was dressed in dark, oversized clothes, a black scarf, and gray fingerless gloves. Nancy glanced down at his hands. Despite the gloves, a few red marks were visible. He was a heroin addict, and judging by the looks of him, he’d been one for a long time. She shuddered in spite of herself. No matter how long she worked at the clinic, she would never get used to seeing long-time heroin addict. Nothing against them-they were coming for help, after all-but the sight of them always made her queasy.
“Can I help you?”
“I need to make an appointment.” His voice was soft and anxious.
“Sure thing. I’ll need you to fill these out…then I think I’ve got a slot for next…hang on a minute…yeah, next Thursday. Would that suit you?”
He nodded and reached for the papers.
“Thank you.”
“Sure. If you want, you can take those home and bring them back next week. But don’t forget them.”
“Thanks.”
He coughed and retreated back towards the door.
“I need a name.”
“Cole Martin.”
It came out as little more than a whisper. Then he was gone, disappearing into the rain outside. Nancy shrugged. Well, the amount of paperwork here should keep her busy. If she was busy, Dr. Grey would leave her alone. Those were the best days, when he left her alone. She reached for the top paper and a fresh pen. It would be a long, boring day. Just the way work should be.
Chapter Three
While Nancy was working on paperwork, Cole Martin was at home, coughing and looking for an ice pack for his back. There was a large welt there from the beating the day before. He wondered how much trouble he would be in if he borrowed some of the vodka his father always kept handy. He decided a few sips of vodka were not worth a potentially broken bone. There was no ice pack to be found and he ended up making one out of a plastic baggie and some ice cubes. He took it upstairs and lay down and put it on the welt on his lower back. He thought of the secretary at the little clinic he’d found. Thank God for all those self-help brochures they had at City Hall.
The secretary had been pretty, he’d admit. His ‘type’, as he would have said in high school. Everybody’s type, probably-strawberry blondes always got the most attention. He pushed her out of his head. There was no need to get all excited over something he couldn’t have. Besides, he had to act normal. If his father noticed something was up, he’d be in trouble. The ice bag was making his shirt wet and he took the shirt off, balled it up, and threw it onto the ever-growing heap by the wall.
“Cole! Get down here!”
Cole groaned and picked up a sweatshirt. He tugged it on and shuffled downstairs, coughing.
“You sick?”
“Just a cold.”
Sean Martin raised his eyebrows.
“You want a shot?”
He didn’t, but withdrawal was a bitch.
“Please.”
“Make it yourself.”
Sean shoved a bag at Cole and went into the other room.
Well, no beating. That’s always a good sign.
Cole went into the kitchen, found his favorite spoon, and started prepping his shot.
Chapter Four
Nancy triple-checked the lock on her apartment before going to bed that night. Even though she knew it was locked, she did not sleep well. Every little noise had her sitting up in bed and eventually she took her blanket and her teddy bear to the couch to watch TV. She wanted to call her father, but he would be asleep. Besides, she didn’t want him to think that she was going crazy. A bipedal cat ran across the screen and Nancy smiled a little. She’d always liked cartoons, especially these days. They brought her back to her childhood. She missed being a little girl. Even her teenage years had been good. Parties, the occasional weed, heavy metal music in the background.
Nancy suddenly decided she wanted a shower. She never felt clean anymore, even though her skin was cracked from the frequent washings.
Thanks, Dr. Grey. she thought, scrubbing her arms with a pumice stone. Anger and pumice stones didn’t mix and she cut her arm.
“Ow. Dammit.”
She finished her shower, still feeling unclean even though her skin was pruny from the water. The cut wasn’t bad and she didn’t bother with a bandage. She still did not feel clean, but the hot water was almost gone. She made herself a vodka and coffee and went back to her cartoons. Her bear was still on the couch-why wouldn’t it be?-staring at her with sparkling eyes. It looked like it knew something. Maybe it did. Who knew what went on in the minds of teddy bears? Now she was thinking like a crazy person-teddy bears didn’t think. But hers always looked wiser than others. She hugged it and felt a little better. Its fur patches felt soft against her skin. A red dog stopped and said something she didn’t catch. She wasn’t really watching, but the sounds were soothing. She closed her eyes and listened. It didn’t take long for her to sleep. For once, she did not have nightmares.
Chapter Five
Cole looked at his reflection. It didn’t look good. He didn’t look healthy-too thin, too pale, and a bruise was refusing to fade from his face. He had a story for it, in case somebody asked. He always had stories.
Hell, he thought, I should become a writer.
The reflection cracked a smile. Cole tugged his gloves on. He knew they only called attention to himself, but he didn’t care anymore. He was tired of having people point to his hands and ask if he needed help. Or, more likely, take a few steps back, as if his addiction was contagious. He’d gotten used to the stares and the mothers pulling their children away from him on the few occasions he went outside.
“Rehab today.” he said aloud. His reflection frowned at him. “You’re not helping.” he told it.
I must be nuts, talking to the mirror.
He picked up the razor and tested its blade on his finger. It was dull. He’d have to go with the noose, then. He’d do it tonight, when his father was asleep and he wouldn’t be disturbed. Besides, he wanted to see the city one more time. He grabbed the car keys and bolted out the door and prayed that his father wouldn’t get home early.
Chapter Six
Nancy had forgotten about Cole until he materialized in front of her. He scared her.
“Sorry.”
He was taller up close-she had to crane to look at his face. The sight made her wince-his skin was stretched tight and there was a dark bruise on his eye.
“Cole, right?”
“Yeah. That’s me.”
“Do you want some ice?”
“For what…oh. No.”
He stepped back from her.
“You’re early. You’ll have to hang out in here for about fifteen minutes…do you need a cough drop?”
He was coughing, but he managed to shake his head.
“Allergies.”
“Try a mint.”
“Thanks.”
He took three and curled into a seat. If he was trying to hide, he wasn’t doing a good job. His black sweater stuck out against the yellow chair. She didn’t mention it. He gave her the creeps. Something wasn’t right about him.
Well, she thought, something’s not right about me, either.
She opened a file on the computer and started typing.
“Nancy?”
How did he…name tag.
“Yes?”
“How long do these appointments usually take?”
“It varies from person to person. If you’re in a rush, tell Dr. Grey and he’ll keep that in mind.”
She hoped her voice was steadier than she thought when she said Dr. Grey’s name. If it wasn’t, Cole made no sign that he noticed.
“Thank you.”
“Mm hmm.”
She wanted to ask him again if he wanted ice, but she didn’t. It wasn’t any of her business. He looked depressed, though. Withdrawal did that sometimes. Normally she wouldn’t have pitied someone like him, but he was in here getting help. And something about him just screamed, ‘Pity me, please!’
She ignored him and started typing up a file based on the paperwork he’d given her. The next time she glanced up, he was asleep in the chair. She’d wake him up eventually. He had five minutes before Dr. Grey would be ready for him. She shot a look towards the back room to make sure he wasn’t coming out any time soon. He wasn’t-why would he?-and she turned back to making a file for Cole. She doubted that he would last very long. Either he’d give up or overdose. Most likely the latter.
Chapter Seven
Cole didn’t even get around to knotting a noose. His scarf, worn down from use, was beginning to unravel. There was no way it would support him. He balled it up and threw it behind him, followed by his shirt and gloves. He wanted to puke. He hadn’t taken his full shot and it was showing.
I only shaved off a little! A little bit and I end up sick! Thanks, Dad, thanks a lot.
He’d borrowed a bucket from downstairs in case he did puke. Hopefully Sean wouldn’t notice it was missing. His stomach flipped and he leaned over to reach for the bucket. He dry-heaved but didn’t vomit.
“Oh, Jesus.” he groaned. “Being clean is not worth this.”
He didn’t want to think what it would be like later, when he wasn’t taking any. If he made it that long. Sean would get new razorblades soon and then he could get out of here. Lost in thought, he didn’t notice the door swing open.
“Why’s this door shut?”
“Forgot…”
“And what’s that bucket doing up here?”
“I don’t feel good.”
“You take your shot?”
“Yes.”
“Then what the hell’s your problem!”
Cole pressed tighter against the mattress. Sean had been drinking. It was always the worst when he’d been drinking.
“Did I say you could have the bucket?”
“No, but…”
“Did I say you could shut the door?”
“I forgot, I’m sorry…”
“That’s two rules you’ve broken in one night, Cole! Next thing you’ll be telling me is that you went somewhere today! You didn’t do that, did you?”
“No.”
Sean shook his head.
“Steal my bucket, shut the door, then you take a tone…that’s three.” he slurred, holding up three fingers.
Please pass out drunk, please pass out drunk.
He didn’t. For a drunk man, he could move fast. Cole didn’t try to run. It was always worse when he did that.
“Dad?” he whispered, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he could get through to him tonight.
“Shut up and take it.”
“Dad, please…”
He wasn’t quick enough to dodge the fist to his chest. Nothing broke, but breathing was suddenly very hard. It would bruise.
“Dad, I’m sorry, just please don’t do this tonight!”
Sean reached for a shirt collar, didn’t find one, and settled for grabbing Cole’s shoulder instead.
“Please…”
Cole felt the all-too-familiar sensation of being thrown before hitting the wall. The impact made him cough.
“Dad, please…”
His voice was little more than a whimper, but Sean turned and left the room without a word. Cole dragged himself onto his bed and lay still, trying not to move. Everything ached, especially his head. The light hurt. He didn’t want to get up and turn it off. He fell asleep some time later, waking up only when Sean drew a blanket over him and turned off the light.
“Dad…”
“Go to sleep, Buddy.”
He hated that nickname.
“But…”
“Go to sleep, Cole.”
He didn’t miss the edge of anger in his father’s voice.
“Night, Dad.”
Sean left. It was only after he was gone that Cole allowed a few tears to escape. He needed to get out of here, one way or another.
Chapter Eight
The table was cold. Nancy was crying, unable to look at Dr. Grey. There was the sound of the gun being set down and clothes being removed. She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping everything would just go away. There was a sharp pain and a hand clamped over her mouth to keep the scream in. She tried to bite the hand but her mouth did not want to cooperate. Why was this happening? Was it something she did? Why was God turning a blind eye to this?
Nancy woke up to the phone ringing. She looked at the clock and freaked out.
Seven forty-five? Shit, how long have I been asleep?
Long enough to miss most of her first class, anyway. She’d had a lot of absences in that class already, but there was no point in getting up to go now. By the time she showered, dressed, brushed her teeth, and grabbed a granola, class would be over. So she could take her time in the shower. But first…the phone had been ringing. There was a voicemail.
“Hey, princess, guess you’re at school, call me when you get home and we’ll plan for lunch someday soon, okay?”
“Okay, Daddy.” she said to the machine.
She went to the shower and turned the water on hot enough to hurt. She liked it when it was that hot. Then she could feel something besides the sickening numbness that sank all the way down to her bones. Maybe deeper, if that was possible. The only trouble with having the water that hot was that it didn’t last. All too soon, it was cold and she got out and reached for the blow dryer. It was dead. She toweled her hair as best she could and headbanged to the radio to dry it the rest of the way. She was only a minute early to her science class that morning. They got out early and by eleven forty five, Nancy was driving towards her work, feeling sick.
Chapter Nine
Nancy did not call her father back. She forgot. She also forgot to set her alarm for the next morning, but her first class was a late-morning one, so it didn’t matter. Unfortunately, her friend Janet was in that class. She liked Janet-somewhat-but she was so very noisy. As of late, Nancy didn’t like noise. Besides, Janet was always nagging on her to ‘Dress nice! You don’t look good in sacks!’ She sat in the back and kept her head down and combed her hair around her face to look invisible. It didn’t help.
“Nancy! Where have you been?”
“Here. I’ve just had a sore throat.”
“Is it contagious?”
“Not anymore. It was probably just allergies, but you never know…you know the patients we get sometimes come in sick.”
For some reason, the image of Cole flashed into her head. He was due today. She wondered if he would show up-he’d looked close to death last week. She shoved him out of her head. He had no business being there. Janet had said something.
“Excuse me?”
“I said, I know. Every time you get a junkie, you get sick with something. Please say you don’t have any right now.”
“We do, but he’s not in much.”
“Good.” Janet sniffed. “I don’t know why you bother with those kinds of people. They always relapse.”
“Not always.”
“Yes always. What about that girl that came in…three times, right?”
“Five.”
“Five!”
“Shh. Yes. But she beat it in the end, it just takes a while sometimes. Her family was no good.”
“Still.”
“Quiet. I failed the last quiz, I have to pay attention.”
Janet rolled her eyes and turned to talk to the boy next to her. Nancy leaned against the wall, sometimes writing down what was on the board. Mostly, though, she looked out the window at the rain and wondered what she was going to do. She needed to get out of that place.
Chapter Ten
Cole was sitting in the car, feeling fevered and dizzy. He was going to ask for the cough syrup tonight, but right now he had his appointment. He got up, darted from the rainy street the building, and went in.
“Cole, right?”
He jumped-he hadn’t seen Nancy at first.
“Y-yeah.”
“You’re early.”
“Good traffic.”
He signed in and took a mint. It helped his throat.
“How’s the bruise?”
“It’s about gone, thank you.”
She didn’t say anything else and Cole settled into the chair. It was too thin and the pillow didn’t feel right. The fabric was smooth but scratchy. He looked at Nancy again. She really was a pretty girl, but something was wrong. She was jumpy, frightened,
Like me.
She’d been through something. He didn’t ask. She wouldn’t tell him, and it was none of his business.
His wrist hurt. He was pretty sure it was sprained. Sean had shoved him down a few stairs and he’d landed on it wrong. At least it wasn’t dislocated. It had been hard preparing his fix, although that was probably for the best. He set his wrist across his lap where it was safe from being touched and leaned back, resting his head against the wall. It felt cold compared to the fire in his skin.
“Dr. Grey can see you now.”
“Thanks.”
He got up and his wrist bumped against the chair. Streaks of pain shot through it. He eased his hand into his pocket and shuffled into the back room.
* * * *
Nancy didn’t realize how much time had passed until Cole came back. Had it been that long already? She looked at the clock. It had been that long. Wow. He picked up another mint and she repressed a gasp.
“What happened to your wrist?”
“What...oh. I fell on it, that’s all.”
“Sit down. You need that wrapped.”
She wouldn’t have to touch him. It would be quick and easy.
“You don’t have to…”
“Still. It’ll heal faster.”
She didn’t recognize the look in his eyes. Shock, maybe. She brushed it aside and got out the first-aid kit.
“Hold still, it’ll take two seconds.”
Cole remained motionless as she wrapped his wrist. It was very swollen and covered with scars and recent track marks.
“All done.”
“Thank you.” he said softly.
“Sure. Don’t use it.”
He nodded and dropped his eyes. Something was wrong with him. Her caring streak flared up.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, thank you. It’s just a little difficult.”
He was lying, but she didn’t press him.
“See you next week.”
“Yeah. Thanks again, Nancy.”
She stiffened. How had he known her name? She hadn’t told him, and she wasn’t wearing her nametag. Maybe he’d remembered from the week before. The thought both flattered her and creeped her out. She put him out of her mind and resumed working on the mountain of papers beside her.
Chapter Eleven
Cole hurt. His wrist was throbbing, and so was his head. He’d successfully hidden the wrapping on his wrist but it wasn’t helping much. He pushed his sleeve back and looked at it. The white bandage was a fat cushion around the sprain, and when he pressed it down he couldn’t feel his wrist. That was probably good. He usually didn’t wrap his injuries-Sean would notice and yell at him for being a wimp. He kept his sweater on-the last thing he wanted was to wake up with Sean on his case about the wrap.
He knew he should eat, but he didn’t want to. The thought made him nauseous. Great. Now on top of the headache and the sore wrist he had a sick stomach. That was just great.
Cole turned on the radio and picked up his shot. He hadn’t made the full dose-some of the powder had gone down the drain when Sean wasn’t looking. He tied his fraying scarf around his wrist. After a few minutes, he could pick out a vein in his palm and he plunged the needle into it. He could feel the poison coursing through his body and wondered if he would OD this time. He hoped so.
Is it odd, he wondered, to be so afraid that Dad’ll kill me but to want to die?
He couldn’t think of an answer and after a minute, he nodded off, the scarf sliding from his fingers to the floor.
Chapter Twelve
Nancy was throwing up. It wouldn’t be the first time today. She’d woken up at eleven at night from a bad dream about Dr. Grey. Now, an hour later, she was still kneeling over the toilet, wondering if she should try to make it to the phone and call 911. She didn’t want to. It would stop, it always had before. But it was not a fun sensation.
Fifteen minutes later, the vomiting stopped. She rinsed her mouth out, took a small sip of water-which promptly came back up-and went back to bed. It was hot in the apartment and she did not put on blankets. She hugged her teddy instead.
“Teddy,” she said, “What’s wrong with me?”
The bear only looked at her.
Nancy set it down, went to the window, and opened the drapes. It was dark outside and raindrops were running down the window. They made it look like Seattle was crying. A musician had shot himself across town the other day-maybe Seattle was in mourning for him. She wondered if death was better than living in fear and feeling so filthy.
She lay on her bed again, but sleep did not come. She got up and started a pot of coffee. While it perked, she went outside to have a smoke.
It was freezing outside. It felt good to Nancy. She leaned against the railing and took a drag of her cigarette. A raindrop fell on her finger. She shook it off and looked down. The sidewalk seemed very far. She shivered a little and stubbed out her cigarette. Surely the coffee was done by now. She thought about adding vodka and decided against it.
There was nothing on TV-big surprise-and she ended up going back in her room to listen to the radio. She found some song about a boy committing suicide.
Maybe death is better than this.
She lay back in the dark, listening to the radio and sipping her coffee and thinking about getting a new job.
Chapter Thirteen
Cole was lying on his bed, shaking and concentrating on keeping his dinner in his stomach. Sean had finally noticed that he wasn’t feeling good and told him to take some cough syrup before bed. He was going to, but first he had to keep food down. That was easier said than done. The fact that he hadn’t taken a full shot was making food seem like his worst enemy. He supposed this was a symptom of mild withdrawal. He didn’t want to think of what full withdrawal would be like. There was a knock on the wall outside the door and he winced.
“Y-yeah?”
“I’m goin’ to bed, Buddy. Don’t forget to take syrup for that cough.”
“Night, Dad. Thanks.”
Sean did not come in. Good.
His clothes were itchy and tight and he pulled them off and curled under the blankets. They didn’t feel good, either.
When he was sure Sean would not come out for anything, he took a small plush snake out of his backpack. It was green, ratty, and there was a small hole in its tail. He’d put duct tape over the hole, but it was coming off. His mother had given it to him a week before she left. He wondered where she was, if she was even still alive. She had to be, she’d left, not gotten buried in the backyard. He missed her.
Why’d she leave? he wondered. Was it because of something I did?
Surely not, but he knew he’d been a heavy cause of his parent’s arguments. He hid the snake under the mattress again and lay still. He didn’t think he could take the cough medicine-he’d be lucky if he didn’t wake up puking later.
Chapter Fourteen
When Cole came in for his next appointment, Nancy’s jaw dropped. He looked terrible. He was covered in bruises and one of his arms was in a sling.
“What happened to you?” she whispered.
“Got jumped.”
“Sit down. Do you want ice?”
“I’m okay.”
“What about your shoulder?”
“Jammed it.”
The sling looked like it had seen a lot of use before, but Nancy didn’t ask.
“How’s it going?”
“With the…heroin?”
“Yes.”
“It’s going okay, thanks.”
“Sign in, please.”
He did and retreated to the ugly yellow chair after taking a mint. Nancy went back to her paperwork.
“I-I wanted to say…um…thank you. For wrapping my wrist the other day.” His voice was shaking.
“It was nothing. How’s it doing, by the way?”
“It’s okay, thanks. I can use it a little more now.”
“You shouldn’t overuse it. You could damage it more.”
She glanced up. He looked very nervous. Probably lack of a fix.
“How long have you worked here?”
“Three years.”
She wondered why he wanted to know.
“Wow.”
“Yeah. It’s a good place.”
Nancy, you’re a horrible liar.
Cole offered a smile. It didn’t look good on him. He still looked sick. Or did he always look like that?
“How’re you feeling?”
“I’m okay, thanks.” His voice was muffled around the mint in his mouth.
She glanced at the clock. Five minutes. When she looked back at Cole, his eyes were closed and he was shivering. The heater was on seventy-five.
On a whim, she got out the thermometer and went over to him.
“Stick this in your mouth.”
“Why?”
“Because Dr. Grey’s going to want to know.”
He took the thermometer from her, being careful not to touch her. Was he a germophobe?
When it beeped she took it back. Ninety-nine point three.
“Tell Dr. Grey about this.” she said, pointing to the thermometer.
“Okay. Thanks.”
“Don’t fall asleep.”
He flushed and bit his lip. Nancy stuck the thermometer back in the desk and looked at the clock again. Three more minutes.
Cole burrowed into his sweater, his hands vanishing into the sleeves. He didn’t just look sick. He looked scared.
Well, being jumped will do that to you. Nancy thought.
She did not speak to him again until it was time to send him in to see Dr. Grey.
Chapter Fifteen
For the first time since high school-and even then it had been a rare occurrence-Cole was thinking about a girl. He’d always been shy around them, and they hadn’t liked him much, either. The only time one of them had gotten close enough to touch him had been at a party, when they were both drunk. And she was the school slut, so she didn’t count. If anything, she’d scared him a little. But Nancy was different.
He didn’t know what she’d done to get his attention. Whatever it was was probably unintentional. Maybe it was the fact that she’d bothered to wrap his wrist up. Or that she hadn’t given him the look of disgust he knew so well. Or a combination of things. He wanted to get to know her more, if he could.
Dr. Grey had told him not to drop his dose anymore until he was healthy-well, as healthy as possible under the circumstances. He didn’t mind. Maybe he could become accustomed to this new dose and hold off the withdrawal a little longer. The door creaked open a little bit and he closed his eyes. Sean did not come in. Good. The beating he’d gotten the other night had been enough to render him unconscious. He’d woken up on his bed, wearing an old sling Sean kept around in case something like this happened. The door closed a little more and Cole breathed a sigh of relief. If it wasn’t for the heroin, he might have been able to leave, but no one would hire him now, and he had no other place to go. He was stuck here. He hoped that Sean would have a heart attack.
When he was younger he’d loved his father, done everything he could to please him, but the creature down the hall was not his father. Fathers weren’t supposed to get their children hooked on drugs and beat the hell out of them for leaving the back door unlocked.
He shivered and turned his thoughts back to Nancy. That was a safe topic. He got under the blankets, keeping his arm across his chest, and closed his eyes.
He wondered what it was like to be hugged. The last hug he’d gotten had been in the third grade. That was all he wanted now, was to be hugged. Surely it wasn’t too much to ask.
Chapter Sixteen
Nancy loved the weekends. No school, no work, just rest. She was sitting in her kitchen, listening to the coffee perk and watching the rain fall. Her throat hurt.
I probably caught something from Cole. she thought.
Cole…she didn’t understand him at all. Something was wrong. She’d seen heroin users before, and he fit the usual behavior patterns except for one. Most of them were suspicious and angry individuals. He was scared. Yesterday she could understand-being jumped in an alley left aftereffects-but all those days before…was he feuding with his dealer? Probably not-if drug dealers were upset, no one lived very long. Not unless they moved, and he was still here. So that couldn’t be it. Was it his home environment? Again, unlikely. He was old enough to have moved out, and even though he was sick, he could probably defend himself against an angry girlfriend. So what was his problem?
Why do you care?
That was a good question. She didn’t have to. It was in her best interest not to. So what was it about him that made her worry?
Maybe it was all those injuries he came in with. That was probably why. Something was going on-no one was that clumsy. Granted, he’d been jumped once, but still.
Maybe he is that clumsy. Who cares?
She poured herself a coffee and took a sip. It burned her lips. She didn’t care. Her thoughts turned back to Cole.
What was wrong with him, she wondered? Did he have a mental disorder? That was a possibility. Or was it because he was sick? He’d been sick for a long time. Maybe it was something terminal.
Quit thinking about it. You don’t know him, you don’t need to know him, and he’s probably a perv underneath it all.
She took another sip of her coffee and put Cole out of her mind. He had no right to be there, anyway. Men were assholes, and he was no exception.
Chapter Seventeen
Nancy’s desperate attempt to forget about Cole failed miserably when he came in looking and sounding worse than before. The bruises were fading, but his cough had returned and his arm was still in the sling.
“You should’ve called in and stayed home.” she said.
He shook his head.
“I’m fine. It’s just a cold, it won’t go away.” He signed in, his writing a messy scrawl. “Really, it’s nothing.”
Nancy shrugged and pointed to the mints.
“Take one. Or we have cough drops if you want one.”
He declined the cough drops but took two mints.
“Thanks.”
I’ll have to stock up on orange juice. Nancy thought.
“Sure. Go sit down, you don’t look good.” He went and all but fell into the chair. “How are you feeling?”
Now she recognized the look on his face-disbelief.
“I’m okay, thanks.”
He lay his head against the wall and closed his eyes. Nancy brought him a paper cup with water in it.
“Here.”
“Thanks.”
He took it. Their fingertips brushed and Nancy jerked back. Or was it Cole that had done that?
“Thanks.” he said again.
“Yeah.”
He was shivering. Nancy went back to her desk.
“Are you in school?”
She jumped. She’d thought he was going to be quiet. She wished he would be. His voice was raspy and grated on her ears.
“Yes. Are you?”
“N-no. My dad needs me at home.”
“You live with your dad?”
“Yeah.”
His dad was clearly not a good conversation topic. Maybe he had cancer or something.
“That’s nice.”
He did not smile.
“Yeah. I guess.” He took a sip of the water and closed his eyes. “Thanks again.”
“Sure. Get some sleep when you get home.”
He nodded.
“Nancy?”
“Yeah?”
He didn’t say anything for a minute.
“Never mind.”
She didn’t press him. He’d probably forgotten.
“Dr. Grey can see you now.” she said instead.
Chapter Eighteen
Cole was lying on his bed, his head hurting and feeling very confused. How was he supposed to ask out a girl, anyway? Especially one he hardly knew? He hadn’t done anything with a girl before, not even in middle school. He’d always been the quiet, jumpy one getting slammed against the lockers for being the ‘teacher’s pet‘.
This was confusing.
He rubbed a finger over one of the scars on his arm.
Just forget about her, Cole. You’re not worth it. There’s no way she’ll say okay. She probably thinks you’re some kind of freak.
But he wanted to give it a try all the same. Next time he had to go in, he would make an effort to get to know her better. That was a step in the right direction, right?
He reached over and turned on his radio. The sound was scratchy. It soothed him.
He wondered if Sean had gotten new razor blades. But lately he’d been wondering if he wanted to go through with that plan. He’d see how it went with Nancy. He would just have to steer clear of Sean, if he could. The last thing he wanted was for her to start asking questions. He didn’t need her knowing that much.
His head hurt. Sean had thrown him against the wall last night for taking a ‘tone’. He threw his good arm over his face and closed his eyes. He needed his fix, but Sean wouldn’t be home with it for another hour.
Dammit.
He found a semi-comfortable position and looked at the radio. The numbers on the clock were blurring together. He wondered if he had a concussion. He didn’t think so-his pupils were the same size as always. It was too light in the room.
He hated this room, now that he thought about it. It was too cold, with hardly any color except for a few drops of blood on the carpet and a rusty stain on the far wall. That was blood, too-Sean had shaken him back and forth by the wall and he’d hit his head hard enough to knock him out. Apparently he’d bled some, because when he regained consciousness Sean was scrubbing a stain off the wall. He put the memory out of his mind-it would only make him feel worse. He decided to think of Nancy again. That was a nice topic.
Their fingers had brushed together earlier. The sensation had been like an electric shock. He wasn’t sure who had pulled back, and it didn’t matter. It had been a start. He was just so damn nervous around everyone, but her especially. He didn’t know why.
Next time I go in there, I’ll talk to her again.
Chapter Nineteen
Nancy was leaning against the wall, smoking. She loved cigarettes. They soothed her.
“Oh, so you’re a rebel.”
She jumped and nearly dropped the cigarette.
“Excuse me?”
Cole pointed to the sign next to her.
“Says no smoking.”
“No one pays attention to the sign.”
He smirked. That fit his face better than a proper smile.
“Want one?” she asked.
Might as well make nice to the guy.
“Sure.”
He took one, using only two fingers to take it. He had his own lighter.
“Want a spot by the wall? You’re getting wet.”
“I’m okay.”
“Are you still sick?”
“Not very.”
“Still. Come out of the rain.”
He did, keeping close to the edge of the awning. Maybe he was a germophobe. Or just shy.
“How’s it going?”
“It’s going okay. I can’t drop the dose anymore until I’m better.”
“It’s a long process.”
“You’ve seen it before?”
Never like you.
“Yes.” she said.
“How long does it take?”
“Depends. A few months, at least.”
He nodded and took a drag of the cigarette. He still looked very pale.
“What are you in school for?”
“I’m studying to be a nurse.”
“In?”
“An upscale rehab clinic. I want to deal with the mental part of addictions, if I can. Cravings and depression and stuff.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah.”
“That’s great.”
He looked like he wanted to say something else but didn’t.
“You’re a little early.”
“Good traffic.”
In the road, someone rolled down their window and screamed at the car in front of them to drive. They both laughed.
“Thanks for the cigarette.”
“Yeah, sure. It helps. By the way…if it gets really bad, one of our other patients said video games help him take the edge off.”
“Video games?”
“Yeah. He said it was a good distraction.”
“Thanks for the tip.”
“Sure.”
“He have any tips for the itching?”
“Don’t scratch. Someone a while back said an ice bath helped, though.”
“Thank you.”
“Sure. It’s a bitch.”
He nodded.
“Have you lived in Seattle for a long time?”
“My whole life. You?”
“Yeah. Well, that’s a lie-we spent a year a little outside of it, but that was when I was little.”
“Where were you?”
“I don’t remember.”
He coughed and leaned against a support column.
“I’m gonna go in now. You coming?”
“Yeah.”
He got the door for her.
“Thank you.”
“Sure.”
There was the hint of a smile on his face, but it was gone a second later.
“What do you do after work?”
“I’m kind of a homebody.” she admitted. “I stay at home and watch cartoons.”
She knew better than to ask what his activity was. It was obvious, and he acknowledged that.
“I’m looking for new hobbies.”
“Sit down. Let me get the thermometer.”
She could feel his eyes on her. It unnerved her a little.
“Here.”
His fever had not gone down.
“Have you seen a doctor?”
“No. I’m sick a lot.”
She brought him a water and retreated behind her desk.
“N-Nancy?”
“Yes?”
“Do you think maybe I could have a cough drop?”
“Yeah, hang on. Cherry or honey?”
“Which tastes better?”
“Honey, but they’re both nasty.”
“Honey, then.”
“Here.”
“Looks like undercooked egg.”
“Just eat it.”
He did.
“Ugh.”
“I warned you.”
He dropped his head back.
“How much longer?”
“Five minutes.”
She accidentally knocked a pile of papers off the desk.
“Fuck!”
Cole laughed but got up and helped her pick up the papers.
“Thank you.”
“Sure. Never heard a girl use that word.”
“Sorry.”
“Just surprised is all.”
“I normally don’t do that.” she lied.
Cole dropped the papers on her desk.
“Did they have an order?”
“Yes. I’ll reorganize them today.”
“Want help?”
“I got it.”
“You sure?”
She thought about it. She felt safer with someone in the clinic.
“If you’re sure you don’t mind.”
“No, not at all.”
“You have to go in now. If you’re sure, meet me back out here afterwards. But you’re sick-are you sure you don’t want to go home and rest?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
He’d tensed up at the word ‘home’. She wondered what was so bad. Maybe his dad was a drunk or something. Or dying.
He went into the back room and Nancy started sorting out the papers.
* * * *
Cole was scared to death.
Well, Cole, you did it. You got time to talk to her. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?
He had to admit that yes, it was, but that didn’t help his nerves. He was always nervous talking to people, and Nancy in particular.
“Cole!”
“Y-yes?”
“Did you hear me?”
“Can you repeat it?”
Dr. Grey nodded sympathetically.
“I asked if your home life is suitable for this. Are you living with anyone?”
“Yes. My dad.”
“Is he supportive?”
Cole shrugged.
“He hasn’t gotten on my case about it.”
Well, it wasn’t a lie.
“Is he helpful?”
“He’s not home a lot.”
That wasn’t a lie either.
“Hmm. Do you feel like you have a good support network?”
“Y-yeah.”
The doctor didn’t believe him. He looked like he was about to ask more, but he saw the clock and said instead, “You’d better get home and get some rest. Same time Monday?”
“Sure. Thanks.”
He was more than happy to get out of the office. It smelled funny back there, like old fish.
Nancy was still working her way through the pile of papers.
“Still want help?”
“If you’re up for it, I guess. Grab a chair. You look awful.”
Cole couldn’t pick up the chair because of his shoulder and ended up dragging it along the carpet.
“What do I do?”
“Put them back in alphabetical. The pile was A to L. That pile’s A, that one’s B, and so on.”
“Okay.”
“Thank you. I owe you.”
“It’s nothing.”
There was an awkward silence for several minutes. Cole’s sleeve slipped up when he reached across to set a paper down.
“What did you do?”
“What?”
Nancy pointed to his arm. There was a nasty greenish bruise a little past his sprained wrist. Sean had grabbed him and made it worse.
“It’s nothing.”
“Looks like something. Is that the sprained wrist?”
He nodded.
“What did you do?”
“It’s nothing…I tripped and caught myself out of habit, that’s all.”
“Are you sure? It looks almost like someone grabbed you.”
“It’s just a bad bruise.”
“Hmm.”
She didn’t believe him. That was bad. He fixed his sleeve.
“Why do you wear those gloves?”
“I don’t want to see the scars.”
She nodded sympathetically. There was another silence, this time a comfortable one.
“Do you want another cough drop?”
“No, thanks.”
“I can get the rest of these. Thanks, Cole.”
He felt very warm when she said his name.
“You sure?”
“Yeah. Go home and get some rest.”
He stood up. He didn’t want to go home. Sean was probably home.
“See you next week.”
“Yeah. Feel better.”
“Thanks.”
He left.
* * * *
Cole was right. Sean was home.
“Where’ve you been?”
“Went for a drive…”
“Why?”
“It’s nice out, thought I’d go to the park…”
“Did I say you could go?”
“No, but…”
“Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been, Cole? I get home and find you and my car gone! What am I supposed to think?”
“Dad, I…”
“Shut up, Cole!” He shut up. “I’ve spent the last hour wondering whether to call the police! Dammit, Cole, when I tell you to stay home, you better stay home!”
Cole shrank back against the wall.
“Dad, I’m sorry…I didn’t mean…”
Sean grabbed him and pulled him away from the wall.
“You better damn well learn to stay home, Cole!”
Cole closed his eyes. His wrist and shoulder really hurt.
“Look at me!”
He opened his eyes. Sean’s face was white.
Uh-oh.
“Dad, I’m sorry…”
Sean shook him.
“It’s too late for sorry, Cole! You about gave me a heart attack! Are you trying to make my life miserable?”
“No, I just…”
“You just? Cole, if I had a dime every time you just did something…get out of my sight. I’ll deal with you later.”
That was worse. Whenever Sean planned out a punishment things got messy. It was always the planned punishments that gave him a broken bone or a dislocated limb. He went upstairs anyway. He needed his fix.
It was waiting for him on his dresser, along with his favorite spoon. He prepared it without paying attention to what he was doing, took half and threw the rest away. It was getting a little easier to do that.
Despite his fear about whatever Sean was going to do to him, he was in an okay mood. He’d gotten to know Nancy a little more. That was a step.
Sean did not come up at all that night and when Cole snuck downstairs to get a drink, he found him passed out drunk on the couch. Big surprise. He turned off the TV and dropped an afghan over him.
There. That’s enough interaction for one day.
He went back upstairs with a water and went to bed. He did not dream.
Chapter Twenty
Nancy toyed with her cross necklace. She hadn’t worn it for over a year now. It had been on her teddy bear instead.
She felt guilty for touching it. She was filthy now, she had no right to touch it.
She put it back on the bear, tucking the cross and loose chain into a rip in its tummy. Now she didn’t have to look at it.
For some reason, Cole crept back into her thoughts. She was a little worried about him. All those injuries didn’t make sense. And he’d been sick for a long time…never mind. She didn’t need to worry about him, it was none of her business.
So why are you still worried, Nancy?
She shook her head and went to get a drink. Maybe some vodka in a soda. That would be nice. And after that maybe she would have one of the chocolate pudding cups sitting in the fridge.
Or maybe she should have the pudding first.
She decided on having her drink first and got an orange soda. She put it back a few minutes later and decided on a shower instead.
The water burned her skin. She stood there for a while, not thinking about anything, until the heat went down and she remembered she needed to wash. She needed a new scrubbie, she noticed. She’d try to keep that in mind next time she went to the store.
Her mind turned to Cole again. She didn’t want to think about Cole. She was very tired of thinking about Cole, actually, but he wouldn’t get out of her head. Maybe tomorrow she would get a paper and see about a new job. That was what she needed. Then she wouldn’t have to think about Dr. Grey or Cole ever again.
Chapter Twenty-One
I’m crazy. Cole thought, looking at his reflection in the mirror. She’ll never say okay. She hardly knows me.
“Say it. I’m crazy.”
The reflection didn’t say anything, thankfully.
Sean had forgotten about Cole’s punishment the other day, and Cole had been careful to avoid him as much as possible. For once his reflection wasn’t bruised too badly, and his arm was out of its sling. It still hurt, but the sling was itchy. He tried a smile. It came out as a grimace and he stopped and dropped his eyes to his hands.
He hadn’t taken his gloves off since the night before, and they were crumpled up. He hated them, but they were his security blanket. As long as he wore those, he didn’t have to look at the scars on his hands.
He swallowed a dose of cough medicine, gagged, and hoped it would turn out okay. He really did like Nancy. She seemed like a very nice person.
He took one last look at the mirror before leaving the house. He felt like he was going to be sick. His head hurt. But on the bright side, Sean was out of town on business for two days. Two whole days of peace.
Sucks that it’s not forever.
* * * *
The door opened and Nancy jumped. It was only Cole. She felt a wave of relief.
“Hi.”
“H-hey.”
“How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay, thanks.”
He looked nervous. That was nothing new.
“You’re early again.”
“Good traffic.”
“That’s what you always say.”
“That’s always the case.”
“Go sit. Or do you want a mint?”
“I’m okay. I took some medicine this morning.”
“Good.”
About time.
He was fussing with a loose thread on his sweater and he looked like he wanted to ask her something.
“Cole? Are you okay?”
He took a deep breath.
“Um…I know you don’t know me that well, but I was wondering if maybe you would…um…if you wanted to do something. After work or something.”
She thought about it. She didn’t want to, not really, but she trusted Cole. Well, she trusted him not to drag her into a dark alley. Besides, she could probably take him if need be.
“I’m busy after work.” she said. “But I have my lunch hour off. Would that work?”
“Sure.”
He gave her a shy smile. It made him look a lot better.
“Go sit, okay? You don’t look so well.”
He did.
Five minutes later she sent him in to see Dr. Grey. When he was gone, she leaned back and wondered if this was a bad idea.
You idiot! Now you’re going to get kidnapped or worse because you went and said yes!
She didn’t think he would. He didn’t strike her as the type. Hell, that one day, when their fingertips had touched, she’d been positive he’d pulled back first. He wouldn’t do anything to her.
She hoped.
* * * *
Cole wasn’t sure if he was dreaming or dead or what. He hadn’t thought she’d say okay. But she had, and now they were sitting at a coffee shop watching the rain fall. The silence between them was a comfortable one, but Cole wasn’t sure how to act, what to do or say.
The waiter refilled their coffees and shot an icy look at Cole. Cole dropped his eyes to his hands and kept his mouth shut.
“Cole? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m okay.”
“It’s hell, huh?”
For a minute he didn’t know what she was talking about.
Oh. Right. Heroin.
“Yeah, sometimes.”
“You’re doing good, Dr. Grey says.”
“I guess.”
She gave him a tight smile. He noticed she was gripping the cup hard enough to make her knuckles white.
“Are you scared of me?”
“No! Why would I be?”
He gestured to his arms.
“Oh. No, I’m not scared of you. What gave you that idea?”
He shrugged.
“I don’t know.”
“I’m not scared of you.”
Her grip on the cup relaxed a little. Good.
He was trying not to screw this up, but he had no idea what to do. He hoped he was doing this right.
“What are you gonna do this weekend?”
“Try to get rid of this cold.”
“How long have you been sick?”
“It just keeps coming back. I’m sick a lot.”
“That’s norm…that sucks.”
“You get used to it.”
“Do you have other hobbies?”
“I draw sometimes.”
When my dad’s not home to tell me it’s ‘sissy stuff’.
“You should bring something in! I’d like to see it.”
“Maybe I will.”
He took a sip of the coffee and burned his mouth.
“So you’re going to be a nurse?”
“Yeah. I like helping people. Unless they’re assholes.” Cole snorted. “I’m serious! You meet them all the time-the jerk who cuts you off in traffic, the perv, um…there’s more, I know there is.”
“I know. Trust me, I know.”
He leaned back in the chair, trying to look like he was relaxed.
“Cole.”
“Yeah?”
“It’s okay. They’re not gonna throw us out or anything.”
“Sorry.”
She shook her head, but she was smiling. Cole bit his lip.
“Crap!”
“What? What is it?”
“I gotta get back to work!”
“Sorry for keeping you.”
“Don’t be sorry. I’m the one who needs to keep track of that.”
The waiter dropped a check in front of them.
“Split it?”
“I’ll get it.”
“Thank you.”
He shrugged.
“Want me to walk you back?”
“If you want to.”
“Sure.”
He kept a bit of distance between them.
“I’d like to do this again sometime.” she said.
He hadn’t been expecting that.
“Um, sure. Sure, I’d like that.”
“Cool. I have to go in now.”
“See you next week?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
She went inside and Cole went to his car. He didn’t remember ever feeling this good-even when he was high.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Nancy called in sick the next day. It wasn’t a complete lie. She had a sore throat, anyway.
She microwaved a box of noodles and took it to the couch to eat it. She’d pulled the hide-a-bed out earlier that morning to make herself comfortable.
As she ate, she remembered that she had to write a paper.
Eh, it can wait.
She thought about yesterday instead.
It had been nice, actually. The last time she’d been out with anyone, she had been out with Janet, who drove her nuts sometimes. She loved Janet, really she did, but Jan was obsessed with celebrities and makeup and parties. Nancy had started declining her invitations more and more, and finally Janet had quit asking.
But Cole was different. Once you looked past the heroin use, he really was a very nice person.
No! No, no, no! Men only want one thing, and I don’t want to do that anymore!
So why did she feel safer around him? Maybe it was because she wasn’t alone in the office. She always felt safer when patients were there. That was all.
So find a new job and forget about him.
She’d grabbed a paper on the way home. It was sitting on the arm of the couch now, unopened.
She set her noodles down and picked it up. It felt oddly heavy.
There weren’t any good jobs today-the best one was a worker for fast food. That wouldn’t work out. She couldn’t cook to save her life.
So what was she going to do?
She would worry about it in a few days. Right now she needed to sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Cole dropped back onto his bed. He’d taken a dose of medicine that night to help him sleep, but so far it wasn’t doing anything. He looked at the clock. It was only five after nine.
Sean would be coming home tomorrow unless his flight was delayed. Cole hoped it would be. Hell, he hoped he wouldn’t come home at all.
He’d taken his shot about an hour ago, but already he was itching. He thought about taking more, but he knew he’d regret it. Hopefully the medicine would kick in soon.
Yesterday had gone better than he’d thought it would. He had been expecting half an hour of awkward silence, at best. Maybe they could do it again in a week or two.
He wondered if he should try to keep in touch if-after-he kicked heroin.
I’ll see how it goes, I guess.
He put the pillow over his face and prayed for sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Nancy looked at the day’s paper. Even a part-time job would be better than the one she had. Then she could work short hours here until she found somewhere else. That would be fine as long as she had early hours.
There weren’t too many jobs to be had, but there was one at a hotel down the block from her apartment. That might be okay. She would check it out tomorrow and see about it.
“Nancy?”
“Yes?”
“Have you seen your father lately?”
“No. Why?”
“Just curious. We go way back, you know.”
“Yes, I know.”
“Next time you see him, tell him I said hi.”
“I will.”
She forced a smile until he went into the back room.
I really hate that man.
When she got home she would shower and look at the hotel job.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Cole prodded at his food. He really wasn’t hungry, but Sean was sitting across from him and if he didn’t eat, he’d be in trouble.
“Are you still sick?”
“It’s almost gone.”
Sean frowned.
“I’m worried about you, Cole.”
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