01. Chasing Nikki (5 page)

“You sure
you can’t come party with us, dude?” Wes asked, reaching out to bump fists with
me.

“Not this
time, but soon hopefully,” I promised.  “That’s why I’m here though.  Can any
of you spot me some blunt for right now?  I can pay you for it.” I pulled a
twenty out of my wallet.

“No
worries.  I can take care of you, bro,” Chad said, and he reached into his
backpack and pulled out a baggie.  “There’s more where that came from too.”

Sweet.  I’d
found a supplier.  “Awesome,” I replied.  “I appreciate it.  Catch you guys
later.”

I walked
away toward my truck, and I was certain of only one thing.  I was getting high
tonight.

Things
worked out perfectly.  Grandpa was out of town acquiring some new equipment for
the ranch, and he needed me to do all of the chores for him.  I fed all the
animals as quickly as I could and then went back to the house to do my
homework.

Grandma
called me down for supper, and I ate with her and my mom.  If there was one
thing I couldn’t begrudge about living on the ranch, it was Grandma’s cooking.
I quickly dug into the fresh steak with the heaping side of mashed potatoes, gravy,
and corn on the cob.

“So how was
your first week of school?” my mom asked.

“It was
okay,” I replied in between bites.

“Just okay? 
You didn’t make a lot of new friends?”

“Yeah.  I
did.”

“Well,
that’s good isn’t it?”

I shrugged. 
“I guess so.”

“Hmm.  You
don’t seem very excited about it.  How about the girls?  Find anyone you might
want to date?”

I put my
fork down.  “Mom, do we have to talk about this right now?  The school is
fine.  I’ve made friends with some of the guys on the team.  There are lots of
cute girls, but I don’t know if I’ll be dating any of them soon.”

“You should
have some of the guys over sometime,” Grandma interjected.

“I’d like
that.  I know at least one who would like to come play video games.”

She covered
my hand with hers.  “This is your home too now.  You can invite any one you
would like to have here.  I want you to be comfortable.”

“Thanks,
Grandma.” I smiled. “How’s your new job?” I asked my mom, trying to turn the
focus off myself.

“It’s a
job.  I don’t know how much money I’ll make in real estate here, and I guess
this agency covers quite a broad area.  So there may be times that I’m gone for
a few hours to show houses to potential clients.”

“Well, I’m
sure you’ll be great at it.”

“Thanks,
Chase.” She gave me a hug as she passed on the way to the sink, taking my plate
with her.

“Grandma and
I were thinking of going to a late movie since Grandpa is gone.  Would you like
to come with us?”

I shook my
head.  “No.  I still need to muck out the horse stalls.  I promised Grandpa I
would get a thorough cleaning done on them this weekend.  I’ve got to go to
Cooley tomorrow for my service hours anyway.”

“Would you
like us to stay here with you?  We can go another time.”

“No.  Have
some fun.  You deserve it.  I’ll try to come with you next time.”

“Okay, if
you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.” 
I felt a little guilty knowing what I had planned, but I wasn’t about to change
my mind.

I made my
way out to the barn and finished up all of my work.  When I had the last of the
fresh straw in the stalls, I let the horses back in.  I briefly spoke to old
Mitzi and fed her a carrot before I climbed up into the hayloft, pushing the
top exterior door wide open.  I leaned against the frame, and slid down to the
floor.

The stars
shone brilliantly against the clear night sky, and I lit up, drawing the smoke
heavily into my lungs, closing my eyes as I sighed in relief. 

Man, I’d
forgotten how good this really was.  I smoked one whole joint and immediately lit
up another.  The night was quiet—everything was so still.  I didn’t want to
think about anything, willing all the voices in my head to be silent.  There
would be no death, moving, arrest, girls—only me, sitting in the night.

While that
was nice in theory, it wasn’t long before flashes of my dad popped into my head.
I pushed them roughly aside, and they were immediately replaced with thoughts
of Nikki. 

I sighed.  I
need to let her go and find another girl.  Any girl would do.  She just needed
to be someone I could pass the time with.  Maybe do a little partying, then
some making out and who knows what else.  I wasn’t going to keep investing
myself in trying to pursue a relationship that was going nowhere.

I snorted at
my choice of that word.  Who was I kidding?  There was no relationship.  Sure
Nikki was gorgeous, but we were complete opposites.  She wasn’t even my type. 
She was a good girl, and I was branded a bad boy.  A punk, as she’d called me,
and the problem was everyone else thought the same thing.  No one had ever
taken the opportunity to really get to know me before they passed judgment.

Maybe I
didn’t help out my reputation at all, taking advantage of the times I could
prove just how punk-like I could be, but what was the point of trying to be
something else when everyone already had a preconceived notion of what you were?

They all
thought they knew me, pegged me from the first glance.  No one had any clue
about who I was on the inside.  They didn’t see the athlete who was determined
to win, no matter the cost.  They didn’t see the raised bar I’d set for myself
physically to be the best I could be.  No one cared how hard I used to work on
getting top grades before my dad died.  He wanted me to get into a good
college, and I wanted to do anything I could to make him happy.  I wanted to
get a football scholarship, but I was determined to have a high grade point
average too when scouts looked at me.

I had an
excellent employee record during my summer job as a lifeguard, even receiving
commendations for service from my boss.  My job was always standing with him. 
He’d told me he would hire me anytime I could work because I was always so
reliable.

I had always
been warm and friendly before.  I was nice and polite to the people I met and
formed, what I thought, to be lasting relationships with those around me.  I
was popular, well liked, and admired by many.

It never
ceased to amaze me how everyone just faded away into the background, melting
slowly out of my life after my dad was killed.  They couldn’t understand how
devastated I was by his death—how it felt like everything in my world had
turned completely upside down.

He died on
my birthday.  On my birthday!  I didn’t ever want to have another one again. 
Every day I walked outside to get in my truck, and for one second I was
standing on the carport hugging him before rushing off to school to show my
friends my new gift.  I didn’t know it would be the last time I ever saw him as
he stood in the driveway waving after me with that big smile on his face.  I
should have thrown a fit, begged him to skip work and stay home for my party. 
If I would’ve he would be here, and we’d all still be living our real life, not
this fake one that had risen up to take its place.

I never told
him goodbye, and now I’d never have the chance again.  The grief that ate me up
from the inside was unreal, unbearable.  It became all-consuming, until it was
the only thing I could think about.  I couldn’t concentrate on anything but the
scenes of my dad flashing through my mind—how I’d taken everything for granted,
assuming he would be there forever.  It overwhelmed me until I couldn’t take it
anymore, and I was desperate to find a way to relieve the pain.

I jumped on
the chance when it was offered, drowning my sorrows in alcohol and drugs.  It
didn’t matter if it was wrong, I needed a way to escape, a way to be
oblivious—a way to not feel like I needed to vomit every second of my waking
life.  I lived to get as drunk or high as I could … anything to move past that
state of consciousness.

My problem
now was that no one was willing to look deep enough to see the real me that lay
dormant beneath the surface.  Everyone thought I was a troublemaker, the bad
boy, the punk.

I wasn’t.  I
was just broken.

Chapter Five

“Can I help
you?” asked the elderly woman behind the desk at Mountain Medical Center.

“Yeah, I’m
Chase Walker.  I’m here to volunteer for community service hours.  The lady I
talked to on the phone told me to check in here and you would tell me where to
go.”

“Alright,
let’s see if we have you on the list,” she replied, reaching for a clipboard
and running a gnarled finger down the paper.  “Yes, here you are.  It says
you’re scheduled to assist in conference room B with the substance abuse group
today.  Just go straight down this hall behind you, and make a turn at the
second hallway to your right.  The conference room will be there on your left.”

“Thanks,” I
said, turning to follow her directions. 
Substance abuse.  That’s just
great,
I thought, wondering if the fates were starting to conspire against
me too after last night.

I’d changed
my clothes and thrown them in the washer after I left the barn, then scoured
the house for some drops to help my bloodshot eyes.  After I took a shower, I
went to chill on my bed, planning to listen to my iPod while I waited for my
mom and grandma to get home.  Apparently, my body had other plans since I fell
asleep and slept clear through the night.

When I woke,
I found someone had covered me with a blanket and there was a box of candy from
the theater placed on the nightstand.  That was when I noticed the clock and
realized I was running way behind.  I jumped out of bed and hurriedly got ready
to drive to Cooley.

I located
the conference room easily enough, pausing at the door before I walked in.  The
room was empty except for a large circle of chairs in the center, but I could
hear the murmur of voices coming through a door toward the back.

A tall,
professionally dressed woman with graying hair pulled up into a bun appeared
and looked at me quizzically.  “Are you here for the group?” she asked.

“No. I’m
supposed to help out here today for community service,” I replied.

“Ah, you’re
Chase.”  She smiled and stepped forward with an outstretched hand.  “I’m Maggie
Stafford.  I’m the group therapist.”

“Nice to
meet you,” I said politely.

“We’re
starting a new group this morning, and there’s a massive amount of paperwork we
pass out.  You’ll be helping my assistant to organize packets and staple them
together.  There’s a lot to do since we have exercises and journaling that we
encourage our participants to do in their recovery therapy.”

She motioned
for me to follow her into the next room.  “Because our group is large, our
meetings will last about two hours.  So if you work the entire time, I’ll sign
off on those for you.”

“Sounds
good,” I replied, and she pointed me toward two long tables stretched out side
by side.  They were covered in massive stacks of paper. 

I could hear
other people entering the room we’d just left, and Maggie leaned forward to
glance through the doorway.  “I need to get out there.  You can start by
gathering the first five papers and stapling them together.  My assistant will
be back shortly to help you.”

“Okay.” I
set my service paper down on a chair and got to work.

It wasn’t
too long before I heard the door from the hallway open behind me.

“Here’s the
fresh coffee, Maggie.  Sorry it took so long.”

I stiffened
and turned toward that voice.

“What are
you doing here?” Nikki spoke, her eyes wide in surprise.

“I could ask
you the same thing,” I replied, folding my arms and leaning against the table
as I gave her the once over.  Yep, her effect on me was unchanged.  Damn.

“I work
here.  I’m Maggie’s assistant.  Why are you here?” she asked again.

“You want to
set that pot down?  I don’t want you to burn yourself,” I replied, ignoring her
question.

She seemed
flustered for a moment, staring between the coffee and me before she carried it
out to where the group was meeting.

I started
stapling papers again, wondering why I was letting this stupid grin sit on my
face.  I reminded myself I’d decided to move on and forget about Nikki, but
that didn’t seem to help me any.  Community service was suddenly looking a lot
more fun.

She came
back into the room and closed the door behind her.  “Did you follow me to
work?”

I snorted,
glancing at her out of the corner of my eye.  “I’m not
that
desperate.”

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“What are
you doing here?” she asked, and I swore I saw her stomp her foot.

“I thought
it was obvious.  I’m stapling papers.”  I gestured to the rising pile before
me.

She made an
irritated sound, and I couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Did you
just growl at me?” I raised an eyebrow as I stared at her.

“Quit
evading the question, and answer me.” She was glaring at me now.

“I’m here to
do court-mandated community service hours.  It was part of my sentence after my
arrest.  I didn’t know you worked here.  This is just one of those awe
inspiring cosmic coincidences.”

“Oh,” she
said, suddenly looking down at the floor.  “I forgot you said you’d been
arrested before.”

“You did?” 
I was surprised.  Maybe there was hope for her after all.  I was pretty sure
everyone else imagined me wearing stripes everywhere I went.  “People ask me
about it so much I thought perhaps I had it stamped on my forehead somewhere.”

“If you do,
it’s your own fault.” She moved over, close enough that I could smell her softly
scented perfume, and started gathering a packet of papers.