I nodded and told him I was taking care of it. I thought of the plants, still with so much potential for disaster, and felt sick.
The chemo had taken most, but not all, of Kayley’s golden hair. It would grow back eventually, but for now she’d chosen to wear aSex Pistolscap I’d found on the internet. The first night she was home, she wanted movie and a pizza. I went into the kitchen with my phone to order the pizza...then stopped. Normally, I’d fight her on it, saying the pizza was unhealthy and expensive. Of course, now I didn’t care about any of that, I just wanted to indulge her...but if I did, would that give away how worried I was about her? Spoil her because she was so ill and risk her knowing, or be tough on her to reassure her that everything was normal...and risk her thinking I didn’t care?
I got stuck in a loop with it—it wasn’t just that it was a hard decision, it was that there was no one in the world I could ask for advice. Mom and dad were gone and I’d been so busy at the grow house that I’d barely seen any of my friends for months. Even Staceythought I was being cold because I was so secretive about where I was all the time. I got more and more worked up and, just when I thought I was about to hurl the phone at the wall in frustration, I broke down in tears. They came out of nowhere, all of the stress just pouring out, and I couldn’t keep them quiet. I let out a fractured, moaning sob.
Kayley’s voice from the living room. “Louise?”
Shit.I heard her jump down off the couch. I looked around, eyes full of tears...and then grabbed the handle of the refrigerator. I hauled open the door, shoved my hand in and then slammed it on my fingers.
Kayley ran in to find the refrigerator door open and me crying and nursing my throbbing hand.“Motherfucker,”I spat, showing her the rising red marks.
“I’ll get some ice,” she told me. “And that’s a dollar in the curse jar.”
I watched her with eyes full of tears. The grow house had to work. I couldn’t lose her.
23
SEAN
June
I’d sworn to myself,after I nearly kissed her, that I was going to keep my distance...and I did. But not seeing her made me crazy: I was addicted and I’d start jonesing after just a couple of days.
I’d find excuses just to be at the grow house and then sit there watching her, imagining every filthy thing I’d like to do to that pale body...and she just carried on working, oblivious, probably thinking about roots or nutrients or something. Surrounded by plants, she looked even more like some goddess of nature. I’d never seen her look so totally at home...I just wished it could be in a proper garden instead of a windowless grow house. Somewhere she’d be safe. Like one of those stately homes I’d been taken to as a kid. That’d suit her, being lady of the manor. God knows she was classy enough.
I did what I could for her. Little stuff. I couldn’t stand by while life ground somebody like her into the dirt. So I helped her out and quietly drove myself crazy, torturing myself by putting myself in the same room as her week after week.
Then, one day in June, it all went wrong.
It was way too hot for so early in the year, even in California. Oneof those days where the sun really pounds down on you, where you can almost hear your skin hissing and reddening and the asphalt in the streets goes sticky under your feet. It wasn’t too bad in the air conditioned house, but I’d been walking outside, checking for anyone sizing up the house. When I got inside, I pulled off my tank top and went and stood right in front of the air conditioning unit so that the cold air was smacking right against my shining body.
Bliss.I closed my eyes and let out a long groan and slowly rotated, letting the air chill every part of me. I had to back up, so it could hit all of me, and eventually I felt myself knock into a table.
I heard an intake of breath behind me and twisted around, opening my eyes. At first, I thought maybe I’d knocked something over, but everything looked fine. Then I saw Louise staring at me, her hand to her mouth.
“What?” I grunted.
“What happened to you?” she whispered. She was staring at my back.
Shit.
She’d seen the burns.
They’re pretty well hidden by my tattoos. That’s the idea of them—all those snaking lines and the black ink make the circular, puckered scars disappear. But when I’d backed up against the table, the lights had lit me up, hundreds of watts of pure white light shining right at my skin, and revealed everything.
I looked back to Louise. Her eyes were wide with shock...and something else I never wanted to see: pity.
“None of your fucking business,” I spat. It was out before I could stop it, a reflexive defense. I pulled my tank top back and stalked outside into the sunlight. If she called after me, I didn’t hear it over the roar of the Mustang’s engine and the screech of the tires.
That day woke me up. It reminded me of what I was and why we couldn’t be together. It didn’t matter how much I wanted her: I wasn’t going to taint her or put her at risk by getting any closer. Sure asfucknot close enough that she’d figure out where all my anger came from.
I stopped hanging out at the grow house. Louise was doing justfine with the plants, I reasoned. She didn’t need me there at this stage. I buried myself in work, taking on as many jobs as I could fit in.
A few weeks later, at the end of June, I was in the back of a car with Lennie, traveling to a job. I prefer to drive myself, but sometimes the people who hire me like to come along to watch.
Lennie’s one of the bigger dealers. Thin, under his suit, and sort of jumpy, but he’s got all this long black hair and big dark eyes so women flock around him. Right now, I was sitting with him in the rear of his huge old Lincoln Town Car as it cruised down the street. He had a blonde next to him and she was running her hands all over his chest through his shirt, her fake boobs almost falling out of her dress. Normally, I would have enjoyed the view. Now, all I could think about was how much better Louise would look in that dress, with her pale, natural breasts, and how amazing those cool, soft hands would feel as they explored my body….
“Lennie,” I said. “Could you get me a meeting with Malone?” I’d only met Malone, the big distributor, a couple of times. Normally, the jobs came from either the dealers or the growers, well below his level.
