Pick-me-up (21 page)

Read Pick-me-up Online

Authors: Cecilia La France

Tags: #drugs, #high school, #meth, #iowa, #meth addiction, #iowa small towns, #abuse first love, #abuse child teen and adult, #drugs recovery family, #abused teen, #dropout, #drugs abuse, #drugs and violence, #methampethamine, #methamphetamine addiction

BOOK: Pick-me-up
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Angel had wanted to get another tattoo on her
back, so Katelyn went along on Thursday night to a parlor in Ames.
 She managed to sit through the hour of buzzing while Angel
laid on her stomach as casual as if she were watching cartoons on a
Saturday morning.  By the end of the hour, Angel and Charlie,
the heavily inked artist permanently staining Angel’s back, had
convinced Katelyn that a tongue piercing wasn’t that painful.
 

Ear piercing hadn’t hurt too much, Katelyn
remembered, just the initial stick and a few days of soreness.
 But ear piercing was so boring.  Everyone had their ears
pierced.  She wanted something different.  Whenever she
saw someone with their tongue pierced, she was in momentary awe.
 She couldn’t tell outright who had them, except for those
people who talked with a lisp or those that constantly played with
their tongue.  Those people looked like idiots in her mind.
 But, for those people who pulled off their secret until it
shone through on its own, they were cool.  

So, after Angel was bandaged and her
permanent ladybug safely concealed by her pants, Katelyn sat in a
stiff chair, had her tongue clamped, numbed, and then pierced.
 The pain hit on the way home, kept her up all night, and
burned through school the next day.  Katelyn wanted to go
home, but her mom was there during the day.  She had no
intention of letting her mom in on her secret yet.  

“Ih thinth ith infethed,” Katelyn tried to
pronounce.

Tim sprung over the front seat into the back.
 

“Hey,” Angel swerved and protested.
 “How ‘bout a warning next time?”

“Lem’me see,” Tim said and turned on the
car’s overhead light.  He stared at Katelyn expectantly.
 

Katelyn sighed and opened her mouth.

“Can’t see.  Stick it out.”

“Ah am,” Katelyn complained.  She tried
to stick it out farther.  

“I can’t tell, but it’s ugly!”  He drew
out the last word with emphasis.  He drew his arms up just in
time to block a hit from Katelyn.

“Nogh funny,” and she collapsed into him as
he drew her in with one arm.  Tim comforted her for a moment
and then leaned forward into the front seat trying to reach
something on the floor.  He came back with his small cooler.
 He pulled out a piece of ice.  

“Open,” he said like a doctor.  Katelyn
obeyed, and he put it on her tongue.  She moaned and tried to
spit it out.  “Keep it on.  Be tough.”  He pulled
out a can of beer, opened it, and leaned back into the seat.

She kept the ice on her tongue, but leaned
into him for comfort.  The ice quickly melted, but had numbed
the feeling a bit.  She reached over and grabbed a new piece.
 By the time they hit Des Moines, she was able to contribute
to Angel and Tim’s conversation, which mostly revolved around
greatest guitar players.  Katelyn had heard Tim argue his case
several times before, so she was able to comment on a few of the
artists.  

They found the club after Tim and Angel
argued about which exit to take.  Angel took her own exit.
 Tim stayed silently amused while she drove through the empty
business district, through a hospital parking lot, and finally
pulled into a church parking lot.

“Okay, fine.  It’s either your
directions or divine intervention at this point,” she surrendered.
 

“You could have it both ways, baby,” Tim
teased.  Katelyn laughed.  She was glad Tim and Angel
joked with each other.  Tim was quick to find fault in other
people she had tried to introduce him to.  Katelyn didn’t take
him to any parties she heard about through school.  Tim didn’t
even try to be social at those.

“Take a left.”  He directed Angel
through Court Avenue.  Katelyn saw the bar where she was left
alone four months ago.  She tensed slightly, but Tim didn’t
notice.  They crossed the river and easily found the neon sign
for Club AM.  

“Jesus,” Tim cursed with disgust as he saw a
group of girls waiting at the door to get in.  They were
huddled together and their high-pitched complaints could be heard
from inside the car.

“It’s cold,” they whined in turns, each out
princessing each other with their complaints.  The girls stood
without coats in tight low-rise jeans and spaghetti tops.
 Plenty of skin was likely to get frost bite.  

It wasn’t their outfits, but what the girls
represented that caused Tim’s objections.  Katelyn knew he
didn’t care for girls who worked too hard for popularity.
 “They’re trying to get noticed but end up looking more like
each other.”  Katelyn started paying attention to the popular
girls at school.  Just like these girls, the colors of clothes
and hair were different, but there was no individual style.
 Needless to say, Emily made Tim’s list the first time he met
her.  

Angel parked half in a regular street parking
lot and half in a loading zone area.  Angel always got away
with stuff like that, so Katelyn didn’t say a thing.  

“Ih may noght be ahll bahd,” Katelyn said,
trying to cheer Tim up.

They filed in after the princesses paid their
cover charge.  Katelyn easily passed inspection as a
19-year-old when the bouncer looked at Jenny’s ID.  She had to
give Jen $5 to borrow it, but Jen was at least being civil to her.
   

Inside the club, there was much more
representation from the other categories of the lower 20s group:
stoners, emos, hipsters, boy band wannabes, more princesses, and a
strong showing of metal heads.  The night was for rock.
 

A really horrible band was finishing up.
 Angel’s boyfriend’s band was third in the line up of five
local bands.  There was potential for sucky music since they
weren’t the featured band, but neither Tim or Katelyn would say
anything negative in front of Angel.  She’d had a bad run of
men lately, and Oli, the lighting guy, was Angel’s new hope.
 

Angel disappeared to find Oli.  Tim had
finished his scan of the club and motioned Katelyn along a crowded
path toward the back.  Up front, an open dance floor in front
of an erected stage took up about half the club’s space.  A
bar sat off to each side of the dance floor and both were crowded.
  The club served alcohol, but if there was a legal age
drinker present, they had to be wearing a yellow band to order,
hold one, or even have it in front of them.  Bouncers were
everywhere protecting the liquor license and preventing fights.
 There weren’t many yellow bands.     

Most of the tables were taken—not necessarily
occupied, but taken.  Coats, bags, or half-full drinks sat on
some tables to indicate a group had laid claim to it.  It was
not cool to sit.  As Katelyn was bumped by several girls on
their parade route, she didn’t care much about cool.  One bump
caused her to nearly bite her swollen tongue and she cringed.
 She felt Tim tug on her arm and she turned back around as he
dove into the cushioned seat of a wrap-around booth.  There
were coats on the seat and cups on the table, but this didn’t faze
him.  She took his lead and scooted in with him.  

Within two minutes, a pair of highlighted and
bronzed girls came up to the table with the obvious question on
their face.  “Um, this is our stuff,” said one.

Tim surveyed the “stuff” and nodded.
 “Nice.”

The girls looked at each other and the bold
one tried again.  “Like, we were sitting here.”

Tim fed them bait.  He moved over
slightly, patted the seat, and said, “We don’t mind sharing.” And
he gave them a very full, fake smile.  

The Bold One shifted her weight to the other
leg and her face couldn’t hide her distaste at the idea.  She
looked at Katelyn, but Katelyn looked away. She looked back in time
 to see them grab at their stuff and walk away.  The Bold
One said loudly enough for Katelyn to hear it.  “Let the
asshole and his bitch have the table.  It keeps her fat ass
out of our way.”

Katelyn tensed, wanting to get up and yell
back.  She immediately felt Tim’s hand on her leg.
 “Please,” he said in judgment, “you wouldn’t waste energy on
that, right.”  It wasn’t a question.  Katelyn went slack,
but felt wronged.  She didn’t ask for the insult.  It was
his idea to steal the table.

Angel bounded up to the table and threw her
bag on the seat next to Katelyn.  “Great news, Oli’s band is
up next.  The other band’s singer is totally blowing chunks in
the backroom, refuses to go on.  I think you’ll like
Modeanna.”

“You want something to drink?” Tim scooted
out his side of the booth.  Katelyn thought about how the ice
felt and nodded.  

“Sp-ite,” she managed and automatically
started to dig in her bag for some money.

“I got it,” Tim said with a gracious tone.
 “One Sprite coming right up.”  He smiled at her before
he turned into the throng of young adrenaline.  Katelyn warmed
with the kindness.  It was nice not having to pay for
everything now that Tim had a job.  

Angel was digging in her purse and took out a
small tin decorated in an oriental red pattern.  Katelyn had
seen it before, but usually ignored Angel’s use of its contents.
 Angel slipped it under the table out of view and gave Katelyn
a knowing smile.  “Oli was handing out gifts.”  She
pinched two small orange pills and popped them into her mouth after
she was sure she wasn’t being watched.  Angel casually took a
drink of an energy drink Oli must have given her, too.
 “Here’s to being Generation Rx.”  She laughed.
 

Katelyn looked Angel over.  She was
skinny thin.  It’s not fair, Katelyn sulked.  She eats
like a pig and doesn’t gain weight.  It must be the pills.
 Angel’s body was lanky and narrow, even her face.  Her
long hair hid her thin neck, a feature that didn’t exactly scream
beauty.  But, Angel was attractive.  Guys always checked
her out.  

Katelyn sulked.  She bet Angel never had
to deal with nasty comments and insults about weight.  Angel
had left her high school not long after her mom was diagnosed with
brain cancer.  Angel stayed home and cared for her--at least
that’s what Katelyn heard her tell people.  But, Angel told
her in private that she just couldn’t care about school when she
knew her mom was dying.  Her mom died.  Angel turned 18.
 And, with some of the Social Security money she received,
Angel went to California to spend it.  She came back to Iowa
and moved into a temporary group home.  One program encouraged
residents to achieve their GED or try the alternative school.
 So, Angel was totally out of the drama and pressures of high
school social life.  

“What?” Angel caught Katelyn studying her.
 

“Are you goin’ to be able hoo brive?”

Angel leaned in to Katelyn with wide eyes.
 “Drive?”  Katelyn nodded.  “On this?”  Angel
pointed to her mouth where she had just swallowed the pills.
 “To Texas and back, baby.  To Texas and back.”  She
laughed, and then looked at Katelyn as if seeing her mood for the
first time.  “Oh, girlie, no worries.  It’s just an
Adderall boost.  Your tongue bothering you that much?”

At the mention of it, Katelyn was reminded of
the pain.  She shrugged.  

“Shoot.” Angel dug back in her purse for the
tin, “I got something that will make that feel better.”

Katelyn instantly started shaking her head,
but stopped to consider the offer.

Angel held two oblong white pills out to her
on the booth’s seat.  “Want ‘em?”  Katelyn always passed
on Angel’s offers from her pill collection, and Angel had stopped
asking.   This was odd for both of them.

Katelyn stared at them.  “Wha is
ih?”

Angel looked at them closer.  “Vicodin,
I think.  Josie gave them to me at the Academy last week.
 For her dad’s migraines.”  She paused, but continued as
Katelyn hesitated.  “Look, a doctor would prescribe you
something, right?”

Katelyn took the pills and washed them down
with a drink from Angel’s energy drink.  Her stomach twanged
with a reminder that she hadn’t eaten anything more than a
strawberry shake on her break all day.  Her tongue had hurt
too much to add food to the problem.  

“Thanks,” Katelyn said to Angel, which came
out more like “Hanks.”

“You better take another,” Angel said, and
she sorted through her tin under the table until she handed another
to Katelyn.  Katelyn swallowed it with little thought.
 

The speaker’s music was suddenly cut off as
Modeanna began.  “Check, check,” the lead singer tested and
turned to the bass guitar player with a smile before his joke, “I
prefer cash.”  The band launched into a fast heavy beat.
 The first chords from each player clashed, but then they
found their rhythm.  A group of guys made their way to stand
and nod in front of the band.  A couple of girls ran out and
began slutty dance moves.  The dancing didn’t match the music,
but worked in getting all the guys’ attention.
   

“I’m going to get a better view,” Angel
announced as she was already moving out of the seat.  Angel
never bothered asking Katelyn if she’d be okay alone.  That
wasn’t her style.  Angel was on her own mission.

Katelyn took a deep breath.  She looked
around and took some relief in that people were paying attention to
the band or dancers instead of watching her.  She looked
around, but didn’t see Tim.  Not again, she thought.  She
started to bite her nail, but the simple movement sparked her
tongue.  Katelyn dropped her hand, but soon was twisting her
hair absentmindedly.   

Tim practically jumped into the booth across
from her, like he was waiting for the right moment to scare her.
 Her shocked look was instantly transformed into relief.
 “Miss me?” He smiled and set an almost full glass of soda in
front of her.  She smiled and nodded.  She moved closer
to him and they watched the band for a while.  Actually, they
listened and mostly watched men watching the girls pretending to
love the band.  

“You alright?”  Tim yelled over the
noise.

Katelyn realized she was holding her jaw
lower to make room for the swollen mountain in her mouth.  It
didn’t feel any smaller, but she felt slow and far away.  She
shrugged.

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