Illya
Dropping heavily onto my cot to tie my sneaker laces, I glanced over at Sylvie as she draped across her own cot and played Alien Invasion on her phone.
“I’m heading to the store. Do you want anything in particular?” She shook her head, her short bob whipping her cheeks lightly, and my lips thinned under furrowed brows. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I think I’m getting sick. I’m just not hungry.” The bland response was the same one she gave me yesterday, and I simply shrugged it off. Sylvie didn’t eat a lot, but I wasn’t going to be responsible for her whole person. “If you could get me a VitaWater, the green one, that’d be great, though. I’ll pay you back next Thursday.”
“It’s one VitaWater, Sylvie, they’re, like, two bucks. Just don’t forget to pay your half of the electric bill.” She rolled her eyes at me even as a smile stretched her thin lips, and I chuckled softly. “I’m heading out. I’ll see you later.”
“Okay.” Worry sloshed against my ribs when I stood up, and I tightened my fanny pack around my waist and hiked up my jeans as I fought a frown. Heading out of our small efficiency space, I locked the door behind me even though it was about ready to fall off the hinges.
That was the one thing I never did— get involved with drugs. Long after Sylvie kicked her heroin habit, the effects remained, and she wasn’t the same. I stuck with her through it all, but I told her clearly I wouldn’t do it again. Whenever she got the itch, she would tell me, and we’d work through it.
But I knew she stopped going to NA meetings recently. I suspected she’d stopped paying her drug dealer what she owed. I had a sneaking fear this ‘sick’ issue she was having wasn’t actually being sick, but because she’d started using again and was hiding it from me. Hopping down the stairs to the first floor, I ran my hand through my hair roughly in agitation.
I loved Sylvie in a way that only trauma could develop, and we’d gone through so much together that a life without her would be hard. Even so, I’d do it if I had to.
Memories swamped my mind’s eye as I emerged into the brilliant light of late morning, and I unlocked my bike with practiced movements. Both our parents died when we were young, and Sylvie and I met in a group home when we were teenagers. We decided to run away together, which wasn’t nearly as romantic as it should’ve been, and lived on the streets because it was better.
Now, both of us were twenty-eight, and I felt like I was finally starting to get my life together. I saved every penny I could, and it was slow going, but at least it was going.
Sometimes, I wished I could marry a rich guy and meander my life away in bliss and luxury, but I wasn’t going to take the easy way out. My dad once told me that nothing worth earning in life was easy, and I took that to heart. Climbing onto my bike, I reached to rub my chest absently, and my skin tightened and twitched under the friction from my shirt.
“I’ll take the long way to the store.” Truth be told, the grocery store was only six blocks from my apartment, but I wanted to enjoy the day. The air was hot but not sticky, and the sun was hard but not blazing— at least not yet. For the slums of San Diego, not dying of heatstroke was an indicator of a good day. Pushing off to cross over the sidewalk and into the street, I lifted my butt off the seat to ease into a steady pace. Thankfully, there weren’t many hills in this city, and we were far enough from the ocean to avoid getting saturated by salty air.
Honestly, I thought I did pretty well for myself, all things considered. I didn’t have a preferred job, though, and I didn’t have the luxury of being picky. Maybe, eventually, I’d try my hand at something else, but what that was, I really had no idea.
Also, the taxless money was really nice even though it usually amounted to the same as a forty-hour workweek. At least the government wasn’t taking half of it.
“Ugh-h-h . . . it’s such a nice day. Maybe I should ride around for a while after I put all the stuff away.” Snorting, I sat on my bike seat to cruise, and a grim smirk tilted my lips. ‘All the stuff’ was usually just water, dried vegetables, and just enough deli meat for two sandwiches. There was a bread store that sold nearly expired bread for a dollar, which I could put in the freezer. If I was feeling really wild, I could buy myself some peanut butter and a few apples, and my mouth watered at the notion.
Gnawing on my inner cheek as I sailed down the street into a wide turn, I frowned at the grocery store sign hovering above the buildings of a plaza a half-mile away. How did my ride go from fifteen minutes to five?Oh, right. . . I think too much, sometimes.Cars zipped past me, and I glanced around at the somewhat nice, kept up structures around me. This part of town wasn’t as well-endowed as downtown in the east end, but there weren’t many terribly awful spots, either. Of course, if I rode a little way south, I’d end up in a hive of drug addicts and dealers, but they mostly stayed on their side of town.
The more they stuck together, the less inclined the cops were to bust them.
Turning into the grocery store parking lot opposite a small strip mall, I clung close to parked cars to avoid getting hit by someone backing out or pulling in. The bike rack was by the dumpsters on the side of the building, and I bopped my head as I silently went over my pitiful list.
“I should grab some cat food just in case.” Just as the grumble passed my lips, I rounded the front of the store only to grind my heel into the ground. Sylvie stood by the dumpster, in full view, with a guy that looked slimier than a used car salesman. Fumbling to pull my phone out of my pack, I swiped open the camera and zoomed in as a fire sparked in my chest. Glaring at my phone screen, I hit the ‘Record’ button while she handed this guy what looked like thirty dollars.
And, there, right on the screen, he passed Sylvie a little baggie of what I recognized as black tar heroin despite being wrapped in paper inside the dime bag. They weren’t even discreet about it. Neither checked around to look for witnesses, and I clenched my jaw hard as betrayal seared my throat. Seething silently, I blew smoke out of my nose, and I videoed Sylvie stuffing the baggie in her pocket before heading around the back of the store.
I was,generously,fifty feet away, and even with my terrible math skills, I knew that was close enough for them to notice me out of the corners of their eyes.
“What the fuck? What the fuck, Sylvie?”
The guy waited around a moment before following Sylvie, and my lip curled in disgust. No wonder she wasn’t eating— she was using again! I had this shit on video! There was no way she could deny it now. Her lack of appetite had started a few days ago, so she must’ve used at least twice. Sylvie wasn’t one of those people that used five times a day, maybe four or five times a week, when she was at her worst.
But this was worse than her worst. My heart pounded hard against my ribs, and I stuffed my phone angrily back into my fanny pack to jerk my bike to the stand.
Memories beat against my burning eyes, and shivers raced down my spine. Sylvie and I made a pinky promise so long ago, standing outside a womens’ shelter in the rain while we waited for the doors to open. With such clarity, I could remember her tone as she explained she wanted to get clean. Determination sparkled so brightly in her eyes even as she regaled me with the tale of her blowing a dude for drug money.
Where had that gone? Why did I feel like I was the one strung out? Why did I have the ache that may never go away?
“Fuck. Fuck, Jesus Christ. I can’t believe you!” Hissing, I was so angry, I jabbed the lock in place and stomped my foot just to release some energy. “You bitch!”
I told Sylvie— Iexpressly, clearly stated— that I would fuck her up if she ever used again and I found out about it. I wasn’t going through the mood swings, the sweating, the screaming— never again. When she was in a good place, I told her straight that she’d begone— g-o-n-e— gone!
“Damnit!” Straightening to take a huge breath, in an attempt to calm down, I shook my head viciously, and my fake blonde hair clung to my cheeks from the sweat of my ride. “Okay, okay. I just need to calm down. I’ll do my shopping. I’ll bring everything home. I’ll go for a super long ride to figure out how to confront her, and then I’m kicking her out. I don’t care what she says.”
