Crank Series: Crank Part 18

Adam took command.

You not bothering that little girl?

The trio pulled back, straightened up.

'Cause that just isn't right Glared.

Stared.

Half issued a challenge.

Nah, man. No need to fight. Besides ...

Adam pointed to a black and white, two blocks away and closing.

You know what they do to rapists in prison?

Three Raiders Jackets

faded into the night, dissolving like silver and black nightmares.

Adam folded me gently into his arms, kissed my sobs, stilled my quaking.

Don't cry, Bree. It's okay now.

The patrol car drew even, slowed to a crawl, window rolled down, inquiring.

Remember, you're buzzed. Stay cool.

Glad he was there, scared he was there, I dug deep for a smile, waved the cop away.

Come on. Let's go home.

I Held Tight

to his shirt all the way home, clung fast like a paranoid kitten.

Dad wasn't there, no doubt bowling off his own buzz, so I asked Adam in.

We stayed up all night, smoking, talking, I struggle to remember exactly what about.

Boys Chicks School Detention Art Sports Reno Albuquerque Mom Mom Dad Long-gone Dad Stepdads Boyfriends Gay sister O.D.'d brother Buddy Bree Adam Kristina Love Love

Dawn Broke

A rose-colored rain over distant hills.

We kissed for about the thousandth time, No promises, no demands, Just solid rebuilding of shattered trust.

Then I said it.

He said it too.

I love you.

And everything that went before meant nothing.

About That Time

Dad stumbled in, looking like the monster had boogied on off.

You still up?

Up, and flying high.

Was I supposed to go to sleep?

Better get some sleep.

I walked Adam to the door, promised to see him later.

You two didn't do anything I wouldn't do. Did you?

No way, Daddy dearest.

And where were you when I needed you?

'Cause a girl could get into real trouble.

Clueless

Dad went to bed.

I laid on the couch, closed my eyes, let the night slip into replay Exhilarating, rocketing into my mind, reaching unimagined highs.

Depressing, knowing when I left, Adam would stay. Would he downplay spectacular times together, forget the best, remember the lows?

As if I had never entered his life, never existed, would he toss all promise of tomorrow, tumble headlong into old routines?

As if he had never told me he loved me?

I Was Supposed to Sleep?

Thoughts bulleted in my brain, ricocheting, creative side to practical side, l.u.s.tful half to hateful half.

Sleep? Yeah, right.

I got up, located cleanser and sponge, scrubbed the bathroom, washed the dishes, waxed the kitchen floor.

Wrote a four-page letter to my sister, told her I was in love.

With a boy.

I think I asked for her forgiveness.

Wrote a poem, an epic, tinged with dark humor, decided to give it to my mom because this was all her fault.

Somehow.

Went to the bathroom, considered my growling stomach, but the thought of food made me want to heave.

Settled for a beer. That went down fine, so I had another.

And another.

After the Fourth

No more writing paper, nothing left to clean, I turned on the TV, thanked G.o.d for the Jerry Springer marathon, six great hours, filled with pitiful people, whose lives were way worse than my own.

Hard to believe the world is such a screwed-up place.

I needed food, sleep, but the monster denied every bit of it.

Playing wasted couch potato was all that I could ask for.

And more.

Fading speed buzz, escalating alcohol, it was all I could do to stay upright.

So I didn't.

Used Up

Burned out, adrift on a sea of uncertain synapses, a place where your eyes refuse to focus and your brain refuses to function.