Forgive Me (13 page)

Noble shrugs. Nothing is going to be okay where Jason is concerned. He’s going to freak.

Yeah, he’s not going away quietly. I send one last text.

I show it to Noble. “Does that sound crazy?”

“Yes, but it’s true. Go upstairs and talk to him. I’ll wait right here. If you need me just yell, okay?”

“Yes,” I say, and walk upstairs alone. I turn on every light but the one in my room. The stars are glowing on the ceiling and on my dress and I can’t bring myself to ruin it with light. I hold my phone as I watch the stars move through the night and I question how anyone can be mad about this. It is amazing.

My phone rings and I can’t wait to talk to Jason. That is, until I hear the complete anger in his voice.

“Where are you, Annie?” I take a deep breath and try to focus on the stars. They’re not exactly the same as the ones above Jason tonight, but they are loving me.

“I’m in my bedroom, Jason.” His name falling off my lips sends a chill through me. The love I feel for him travels like wet concrete and settles in every appendage and at the pit of my stomach.

“Are you alone?” He’s confused. I try to think of what this must be like from his perspective, but it’s unpleasant so I run from it.

“I’m tripping on acid,” I say, and watch the constellations change above me.

“What?” He’s livid.

“I’m lying on my bed, in my Halloween costume, alone and tripping on acid. That’s why I didn’t want you to be mean to me. I’ll be tripping for, what time is it?”

“Annie, what have you done? It’s 1 a.m. Is there anyone else home? Anyone there with you?”

“Yes. Jenn and Julia are here. Wes and some guy named Michael, and Noble.”

“Are they all tripping too?”

“Yes. Actually Noble isn’t and he seems upset that we are. That I am, but I don’t want to talk about that if you don’t mind,” I say as if it’s his obligation to understand. “What time is it?”

“I told you it’s 1 a.m.” His voice is quiet. I hope I haven’t broken him.

“Still?”

“Yes, Annie. Still. What time did you take it?”

“I think around 11, maybe a little earlier. It feels like three days ago.”

“Annie, I’m going to go, but I want you to know I love you more than anything in this world. Do you hear me? I love you.” My smile threatens to break my lips right off the front of my face.

“I know you love me, Jason. I can tell by the way you look at me,” I say, and can see his gray eyes staring at me with a glint in each one. “I’ve never felt safer,” I say defiantly, and block out the memories of my parents.
Not tonight, Mom
.

“Don’t leave your house and don’t set anything on fire. Promise me you will take care of yourself.”

“I will. I love you,” I say, and hang up the phone. I wish he could be here, like this with me. Something tells me tripping might not be physical enough for Jason.

I walk into the hallway and Noble is waiting on the stairs. He startles me and then he warms me.

“Thanks, Noble.”

“Anytime, Charlotte. You okay?”

“I’m great,” I say, and my face hurts from smiling.

“I’m going to go. If you need anything, anything at all, you’ll call me?” he asks, holding my face to gauge my understanding.

“I promise.”

“Okay, have fun tonight. They call it a trip for a reason. Enjoy it.” Noble turns to leave and I follow him down the stairs.

“Noble, I love you very much,” I say, and he turns back to me with his naughty grin.

“I know you do, Charlotte. I love you too. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Perfect.”

Our core group stays together the entire night. We bake cookies no one wants to eat, we watch cartoons, we attempt to play Pictionary which is utterly hilarious, and we lie still and listen to music. Around 4 a.m. I get a text from Jason.

And I respond

Which probably pisses him off, but I’m on drugs for God’s sake. I can’t figure out what won’t make him mad.

“What’s up with you and Jason? You’re so intense,” Wes says.

“It’s not easy to explain,” I answer, leaning my head back on the couch.

“Well try. Because I would love to understand, too,” Julia chimes in, and I’m shocked she really doesn’t know. It’s all so clear to me. I need Jason Leer to live, at least to feel alive. It’s not easily explained. Ergo their question.

I stand up in front of them to try and unravel what’s in my head. I take Wes’s cigarette and turn off the light and move it back and forth. The glowing red light trails back and forth across the room. “See how this red light looks different tonight than it ever has before? That’s how it is with Jason. Everything in the world is different, in the most enticing way, now that I have him.”

I can feel all their eyes on me in the darkness. “Since I’ve been with him love is different, need is different, want is different, different from any of the same emotions I’ve known my whole life. I never knew things existed like this and I can’t give them up now.”

Their silence beckons me to continue. They still don’t understand. I take a deep breath.

“If I stay quiet, I can be a thousand miles away from him, and shudder just from the thought of the things he does to me, sexually.” I pause and regroup. “If I imagine him being hurt,” I push the thoughts immediately from my mind, “I’ll burst into tears. I can feel him in my soul and when he looks at me it’s as if he swallows me whole,” I say, and feel like I’ve done it justice.

They are all still looking at me. Not saying a word.

“What? Does it sound crazy?” I ask.

“No. It makes me think every relationship I’ve ever had has been incredibly inadequate,” Wes says, and I exhale, relieved they don’t think I’m insane. I turn on the lights and Julia is crying a little. I look at her, confused.

“I get it now. I get it,” she says, and laughs at herself for crying.

By 6 a.m. things are different inside the house. We’re all exhausted, but not sleepy. The trails stopped a few hours ago and we talked until we barely had voices left. At 8 a.m. Wes and Michael head back to their apartment and Julia, Jenn, and I lie on the couches unable to close our eyes. It’s the Sunday of Homecoming weekend. Between the tailgate, the game and the tripping last night, I might slip into a coma if my brain ever lets me sleep again.

“Maybe we should get high?” Jenn suggests.

“Really, more drugs? Maybe we should have a glass of milk,” I suggest, but I know we have not one healthy thing in this house.

“I think it will take the edge off,” Julia says.

“Milk?” I ask, confused. It’s going to be a while before my brain works again. I’m hollow inside. And I miss the trails. I miss the lights melting and the music floating. I hope I get to do this again someday.

We lie on the couches for too long or maybe just long enough, and I announce I am going to shower. I look at the clock above on my phone and it’s 10:30 a.m. Besides the trippers, the house is completely quiet. I turn on the water and grab a pair of shorts and my Oklahoma sweatshirt.
God, I miss you Jason.

I take off my clothes and let the water pour over me. It hits the top of my head and runs off my chin and I extend each arm and let it fall from my fingertips. I don’t think I’m tripping; if I was the water droplets would lengthen and touch the floor, but things look different today. I understand why they say tripping opens your mind. It’s different than anything I ever could have imagined. I would love to do it at the beach someday. Maybe with Noble. He would be great to trip with.

I hear voices in the hall. People must be waking up. I, on the other hand, will hopefully be going to sleep after this shower. The bathroom door opens and I wait for someone to ask to borrow something, but the shower curtain is pulled back and Jason Leer is staring at me. His eyes capture me and I force my brain to understand his presence.

“If this is some kind of hallucination, so help me I’m going to drop acid every day,” I say as I step to him and place my wet hands on his face. Jason’s eyes are dark and angry. He pulls his face back and furiously takes off his clothes off. I watch him in silent disbelief. He isn’t really here. This is some insane side effect of LSD. I move to the side as Jason steps into the shower. He stares at me through shattered eyes.

“How?” I ask, but his eyes weigh on me and I stop talking as Jason grabs my face in both hands, resting his forearms on my shoulders. He looks like he might cry. His hands are crushing my head and I cover both his hands with my own and try to loosen his grip.

“I’m right here,” I say, breathless. “Jason, I’m right here.” I pull his left hand down and move it across my breast, and he exhales. His eyes finally release mine as he looks over every inch of me. “I’m right here,” I repeat. He forces me to the back of the shower, kissing me hard, his lips on mine exploding something in my brain. I’ve wanted him so much and now he’s here. I wrap my leg around his waist and he pulls me up his body. He’s in me before I can ask for it. He’s forcing me into the back of the shower as his assault continues on my lips and I just want him to feel me. He’s looking down, avoiding me, as he takes what he needs.

And then he comes. He pulls out and rests his face on my shoulder. I run my hand through his hair and the burden of guilt washes over me. I have caused him tremendous pain. I circle my arms around his thick neck and kiss the side of his face. I leave a trail of blood and touch my finger to my mouth to confirm my lip is bleeding. The blood pools between my teeth and lip and I pull back from him to spit it on the floor of the shower. Jason watches it run down the drain and I pull his face back to me.

“I’ll always be right here.”

“You weren’t last night,” he says, and a fight brews.

“How did you get here?”

“Harlan dropped me off at the Kansas airport and I flew here.” Jason looks around the shower and I know our time here is done. I’ve never been with him without having an orgasm. Although, I’m not sure I could have one right now. There’s a negative side effect. He steps out of the shower and wraps a towel around him as I watch. “I’ll meet you upstairs,” he says, dismissing me as he leaves. I lean back under the shower and try to decipher what I’m feeling. There’s joy he’s here, the need to touch him, utter exhaustion, and anger creeping up at his judgment. I didn’t do anything wrong.

I dress in my shorts and sweatshirt and follow Jason to my room. It’s a long walk past Julia’s unconscious body on the couch. I’ve never felt anything but the need to run to him until this moment.

Jason is sitting on my bed, his feet on the floor, his elbows on his knees, and his head between his hands, naked. He could be a sculpture, but he’s not. He’s a living, breathing, angry cowboy. I kneel in front of him and pull his hands from his head.

“Tell me?” I plead.

“Tell you? Tell you what? You tell me, Annie.” His anger is increasing. “You tell me how I’m supposed to stop you from becoming a crackhead from 1,500 miles away.” He spits “crackhead” as if it is the vilest form of life. I pull away and anger occupies my face.

“You don’t have to call me names,” I say, avoiding his point.

“What would you call it, Annie? Your parents die in a car accident and a few weeks later you start tripping on acid. Does that sound healthy? This is why I don’t want you to smoke pot. It’s a gateway drug. Next you’ll be cooking meth and shooting heroin.”

It’s hard to believe this is a serious conversation, at least on his end. I fight to not laugh in his face.

“You’re overreacting. LSD is not going to kill me and it’s not going to lead to a life-ending addiction to heroin. It’s the soda and smoking that’ll kill you. You should take a look in the mirror,” I say, the fight back in me. “Have you ever tried to clean dried soda off a countertop? It’s like glue. You want that in your body? You should smoke pot! Try something natural.”

I exhale and fear I’ve gone too far. I’ll know in a second because he’ll throw my bed out the window.

“Natural,” he scoffs, nodding his head as he says it. “Maybe later you and your cool new friends can take me out to the ACID HIT FIELD where you guys picked your natural drugs. Do you hear yourself?”
Do not roll your eyes, Charlotte.
I relax my jaw and take a big breath through my nose. And exhale it. I stand up and sit on top of Jason, straddling his naked body. I run my hands over his shoulders and down each arm. When I get to his hands I place each one on my ass and run my hands back up. I pull my body toward him and cross my ankles behind his back.
Now we can talk.

“I’m not becoming a crackhead,” I say, and move myself closer still. “I’m just trying some new things. I think drug experimentation is completely age appropriate, even more so if my parents hadn’t died.” Surely there is some study to back this up. “I need you to trust me and give me a little freedom to explore.” I tilt his face toward mine. “I need you to trust me,” I raise my eyebrows, begging for his understanding.

“If you want to explore, why can’t you join a club or volunteer somewhere? Don’t act like dropping acid is a rite of passage. It’s not like a sheet of it comes with your admission letter.” He’s allayed. His anger lifts and I’m sure it has something to do with our bodies being this close because touching him is calming me, too.

“I love you,” I say, and kiss the side of his face.

“I need you to come back to Oklahoma with me.” His words paralyze me. My lips are still touching his cheek as fear grips me. He pulls me back to see my eyes. “I’m serious, Annie. Come back to Oklahoma. You can explore whatever you want there. I just need you to be with me when you do it.”

I know any protests I make now will only be met with his stubborn righteousness, so instead I suggest a nap. He’s exhausted; he drops the subject, for now. He lies down with me in my nice bed in New Brunswick and I collapse into a state that no thoughts can penetrate.