Never Eighteen Read Online Free PDF Page B
Author: Megan Bostic
She gets my need to fix things that have broken along the way, to mend fences. Maybe if we all just tried to put the pieces back together as soon as they fell out of place, the puzzles in our lives would feel more like an accomplishment than a chore.
Kaylee pulls up to the curb in front of Allie's house. I turn to get out of the car, but Kaylee stops me. "Are you sure about this one?" she asks.
"I'm sure."
"She's not the same, you know. She's not the Allie we used to know."
"Yes, she is. Deep down, I think she is. I want to try to bring
that
Allie out again."
"What if you can't, Austin? You can't help everyone."
"At least I'll know I tried."
"I sure hope you know what you're doing," she says.
"I don't. But I know what I'm trying to do. Is that good enough?"
"I don't know, Austin. Just go. Go about your business. I'll be sitting here in the car, alone, if you need me."
I exit the car, head up the walk to the front door, and ring the bell. Allie answers. She's definitely not the Allie I used to know. That Allie was cute, lively, fun, and a bit fat. This Allie is dark, depressed, gaunt, and thin. Too thin.
"Austin, dude, what are you doing here?" she says. She reeks of pot.
"I wanted to see you."
"See me? Why? I mean, no offense, but we haven't exactly been best buds for a while."
"That was your choice," I remind her.
"So it was." She nods. "Who's in the car?" She motions toward Candy.
"Kaylee."
"Are you guys like boyfriend-girlfriend now?"
"No, just friends."
She eyes Kaylee out in the car as if trying to see something more than I've told her. She always did have a keen intuition, a knack for reading people. She looks back to me, gives a knowing look, nods, and says, "Why is she waiting in the car?"
"Because I asked her to."
She looks at me suspiciously now. I think maybe she'll turn me away. Instead she says, "Come in.
"I'd offer you something to drink or eat, but the cupboards are pretty bare. Mom doesn't shop worth a shit anymore, and, well, you know my dad's never home. You want to sit?"
"Sure." I take a seat on the couch. She sits down next to me. I survey the room carefully. It looks the same—the country décor, the pig collection in the corner—but there's something different about it, something not quite right. The air. I don't mean oxygen; I mean atmosphere. It's suffocating, as if at any moment I'll be gasping for breath. I shake it off, get down to the reason I'm here.
"So, how've you been, Allie?"
She stares at me blankly, as if I've not said anything at all. An awkward silence hangs between us. She finally speaks. "You know how I've been, Austin. I've been shit." She reaches over to the side table and grabs a little plastic bag. She takes a pill from the bag and begins to scrape the outer coating off with her fingernail. "So, what's up, Austin? Why are you here? What's with the visit?"
I'm mesmerized by her actions. She wraps the scraped pill in a piece of paper and places it on the coffee table in front of us. Grabbing a lighter, she pounds it on the paper over and over. "Austin?"
I look up at her and she's staring at me. I momentarily forget the purpose of my visit. "A lot of people miss you, Allie."
"Miss me?" She carefully unfolds the paper, revealing the pill, which is now nothing but a fine powder. "I see everyone at school every day; they don't miss me. I walk through the halls by myself, eat lunch by myself, sit in class by myself." Allie places lines of the powder in front of her and proceeds to snort them through a straw. Her eyes water as she wipes residue from under her nose and licks her finger.
Not able to help myself any longer, I ask, "What is that?"
She looks up and simply says, "OC," then snorts another line.
"OC?" I ask, feeling stupid.
"OxyContin."
"Do you have a prescription for that?" The look she gives me answers my question.
She continues our conversation without a second thought. "Austin, if everyone misses me so much, why don't they come over and say
Kaylee pulls up to the curb in front of Allie's house. I turn to get out of the car, but Kaylee stops me. "Are you sure about this one?" she asks.
"I'm sure."
"She's not the same, you know. She's not the Allie we used to know."
"Yes, she is. Deep down, I think she is. I want to try to bring
that
Allie out again."
"What if you can't, Austin? You can't help everyone."
"At least I'll know I tried."
"I sure hope you know what you're doing," she says.
"I don't. But I know what I'm trying to do. Is that good enough?"
"I don't know, Austin. Just go. Go about your business. I'll be sitting here in the car, alone, if you need me."
I exit the car, head up the walk to the front door, and ring the bell. Allie answers. She's definitely not the Allie I used to know. That Allie was cute, lively, fun, and a bit fat. This Allie is dark, depressed, gaunt, and thin. Too thin.
"Austin, dude, what are you doing here?" she says. She reeks of pot.
"I wanted to see you."
"See me? Why? I mean, no offense, but we haven't exactly been best buds for a while."
"That was your choice," I remind her.
"So it was." She nods. "Who's in the car?" She motions toward Candy.
"Kaylee."
"Are you guys like boyfriend-girlfriend now?"
"No, just friends."
She eyes Kaylee out in the car as if trying to see something more than I've told her. She always did have a keen intuition, a knack for reading people. She looks back to me, gives a knowing look, nods, and says, "Why is she waiting in the car?"
"Because I asked her to."
She looks at me suspiciously now. I think maybe she'll turn me away. Instead she says, "Come in.
"I'd offer you something to drink or eat, but the cupboards are pretty bare. Mom doesn't shop worth a shit anymore, and, well, you know my dad's never home. You want to sit?"
"Sure." I take a seat on the couch. She sits down next to me. I survey the room carefully. It looks the same—the country décor, the pig collection in the corner—but there's something different about it, something not quite right. The air. I don't mean oxygen; I mean atmosphere. It's suffocating, as if at any moment I'll be gasping for breath. I shake it off, get down to the reason I'm here.
"So, how've you been, Allie?"
She stares at me blankly, as if I've not said anything at all. An awkward silence hangs between us. She finally speaks. "You know how I've been, Austin. I've been shit." She reaches over to the side table and grabs a little plastic bag. She takes a pill from the bag and begins to scrape the outer coating off with her fingernail. "So, what's up, Austin? Why are you here? What's with the visit?"
I'm mesmerized by her actions. She wraps the scraped pill in a piece of paper and places it on the coffee table in front of us. Grabbing a lighter, she pounds it on the paper over and over. "Austin?"
I look up at her and she's staring at me. I momentarily forget the purpose of my visit. "A lot of people miss you, Allie."
"Miss me?" She carefully unfolds the paper, revealing the pill, which is now nothing but a fine powder. "I see everyone at school every day; they don't miss me. I walk through the halls by myself, eat lunch by myself, sit in class by myself." Allie places lines of the powder in front of her and proceeds to snort them through a straw. Her eyes water as she wipes residue from under her nose and licks her finger.
Not able to help myself any longer, I ask, "What is that?"
She looks up and simply says, "OC," then snorts another line.
"OC?" I ask, feeling stupid.
"OxyContin."
"Do you have a prescription for that?" The look she gives me answers my question.
She continues our conversation without a second thought. "Austin, if everyone misses me so much, why don't they come over and say