Tapping out Page 4

  Deciding to get ahead on my homework, I grab my backpack and bring it over to the table. At the end of this year, Tristan and I are going to have to pick a major. Up until this point, we have taken all the same classes since it’s just been the general subjects but now we are almost done with them and will have to figure out what we want to earn a degree in.

  While I know fighting is what I want to do with my life, I understand where my dad was coming from. I need to have a backup plan. Look what happened to Marco. Sure, he’s expected to make a full recovery but what if he wasn’t? What if he could never fight again? Then what?

  The problem is I have no damn clue what I want to do with my life outside of fighting. My mom told me I need to do some soul searching. I’m hoping something will just fall right into my lap.

  I pull out my English II reading for the week. We are expected to read the current event articles and write an argumentative essay on whether we agree with the topic. I read the article twice and still have no idea what the hell the person is arguing about. So, instead I run into my room, change my clothes, and head to the gym to get a workout in. At least when I’m working out, I don’t have to think.

  Seven

  Marco

  Two months ago…

  Fuck! I am in so much goddamn pain. The doctors predict I will make a full recovery but they can’t be sure, and right now, I can’t imagine ever being fully recovered. My arm is almost healed completely. They took the cast off at the doctor’s appointment yesterday. And my ribs and shoulder are also close to being healed. I’m still sore where the ribs were broken but that’s not the problem. The problem is my back.

  When the Porsche flipped, I wasn’t wearing my seatbelt, so I flew out of the vehicle while it was in motion. My back hit the concrete and I now have a herniated disc which is pressing on the nerves causing the pain to run from my ass down my leg.

  The doctors are trying to treat the herniated disk with pain meds and chiropractic therapy before they go in to do surgery. Because of this herniated disk, I can’t be cleared to workout at all. So, I’m stuck at home, not able to do shit all fucking day long.

  When I told the doctor, the pain meds weren’t working, he upped my dose. The next time I told him, he told me he couldn’t up the dose and to try using a cold and hot pack. What I want to do, is take the cold and hot packs and shove them up his fucking ass.

  I know I shouldn’t be complaining. It could be worse especially since I wasn’t wearing a seatbelt. I could be in a fucking coma like Logan is. The thought of my best friend stuck in a hospital unable to wake up makes me feel sick. When the car flipped, he wasn’t wearing his seatbelt either, and when he got flung from the vehicle, he hit his head hard. There was swelling in his brain and he went into a coma while being operated on. While there’s still brain function, the doctors can’t say if or when he will wake up.

  My phone rings and it’s Janell. I might not be in any place to have sex yet, but she sure as fuck gives good head.

  “Yeah.”

  “What’s wrong, baby?” Her voice is high pitched and gives me a headache. I prefer her not talking, which means her mouth stays around my cock as much as possible.

  “I’m in fucking pain, Janell.”

  “I can bring you something for that…” She’s told me this same thing numerous times, and every time so far, I have turned her down. I don’t want to become a druggy like my biological mom.

  But how the hell am I ever supposed to get back to fighting if I can’t get cleared because of the fucking pain I’m in.

  “OK,” I tell her. Then hang up without waiting for a response.

  About thirty minutes later she knocks on my door then lets herself in. Mathias is at work, as usual, so it’s just us.

  “I brought you a couple different things to try,” she says, waggling her eyebrows. Janell has bragged several times that her brother is a huge drug dealer and can get her anything she wants. She doesn’t do much drugs when we hang out but I know through friends of ours, she can party hard.

  “I have coke, OxyContin, and Percocet.” She hands me three baggies.

  “My brother also gave me some heroin.” She places a foiled square on the table.

  “What the fuck, Janell! I’m not shooting up.”

  She rolls her eyes at me. “There’s other ways to do heroin. It’s a powder so you can heat it up in the foil and inhale it, or you can sniff it like you would coke. No needles necessary.”

  “I’m not doing coke or heroin.” I grab the two baggies with pills from the table and decide on the Oxy. It’s one step up from the shit my doctor prescribed me. I open the baggy and pop two of the pills into my mouth praying for some relief from this pain.

  I close my eyes and let the drugs do their job and soon the numbness begins to take over. Maybe for a little bit all the pain will go away. I’ll forget my best friend is in a fucking coma, that I can’t fight, that Bella didn’t even bother to come see me in the fucking hospital. Maybe for just a little while I can forget it all. I feel Janell’s hands wandering up my leg but I am finally at peace for the moment.

  “Go away,” I tell her before falling asleep.

  Eight

  Bella

  Four weeks ago…

  “What do you mean there’s a party going on at Marco’s place?” Tristan asks Gina while they are sitting on the couch watching one of her ridiculous reality shows. I hear Marco’s name and instantly my ears perk up. It’s been a month since Marco has been back in California and I’ve heard from my parents he’s struggling with the fact that the doctor hasn’t cleared him to exercise in any way.

  “It’s all over Facebook. Janell has invited everyone.”

  “Who’s Janell?” I ask trying to sound nonchalant while I am sitting at the table studying for my math test. Tristan should be studying as well, but whenever Gina is around, she gets upset if he doesn’t give her all his attention, and since she’s not in college she doesn’t understand how much studying is required.

  “Marco’s girlfriend,” Gina says. “She waitresses at Bradley’s with me.” I knew Tristan met Gina at the bar she waitresses at but I didn’t know she hangs out in the same circle as Marco.

  “All right, let’s go,” Tristan sighs.

  “Yes! This party is going to be lit.” Gina jumps up, ready to head out the door.

  “We are only going there to check on Marco. Caleb just texted me and said Mathias is out of town. He’s afraid Marco might be sinking into some kind of depression. No drugs, Gina, please,” Tristan pleads and my heart breaks for my best friend. It’s evident he cares about her, but it’s also evident she cares more about getting high than taking his feelings into consideration.

  “Do you need to get changed before we go?” I think he’s still talking to Gina but when I look up I see they are staring at me.

  “Oh no, I’m not going to a party at Marco’s. It’s like one in the morning.” I shake my head to put emphasis on my answer.

  “Yeah, you are, because Caleb is worried about Marco and has asked me to go over there and check on him, and Marco hasn’t answered any of our calls or texts.”

  “And how does that translate to me going to Marco’s house?”

  Tristan stands up and walks over to me, leaning over the table with his fists hitting the table top. “Because regardless of why you and Marco aren’t talking, he’s our best goddamn friend. More so yours than mine. And if something is wrong, we are going to be there for him. So, for one fucking minute, put aside your petty bullshit and think about our friend.”

  Well, shit!

  “Fine.” I throw on a pair of skinny jeans, a loose tank top, and grab my Cooper’s Gym hoodie.

  We pile into Tristan’s truck, and about twenty-five minutes later we pull up to what I assume is Marco’s condo. Since we stopped talking before he moved, I’ve never seen the place he shares with his cousin, Mathias. Tristan said it’s on the beach but holy shit this place is amazing!

  Tristan finds a pa
rking spot and we walk up the stairs to the second floor. I know exactly which condo is Marco’s as soon as we reach the second-floor landing. There’s people standing outside, the music is blaring, and his front door is wide open. There’s got to be at least fifty people here.

  “Let’s split up and look for him,” Tristan suggests. Gina sees some girls she knows and starts chatting and laughing with them. When we get inside, I am shocked at what I see. There are drugs and liquor bottles scattered all over the table and counters. Pills, powder, there’s even someone shooting up.

  I start searching for Marco in the living room and notice Tristan is heading out to the back patio. So, I head in the opposite direction down the hall. The hallway is filled with people, forcing me to have to push through them. The first door is the bathroom and as I go to knock, a guy and girl come out. Ok… guess he’s not in there.

  The second door is locked, so I knock a few times but nobody answers. I spot one more door a little farther down so I go to that door. It’s unlocked so I open it up slowly, afraid of what I might find. The room is pitch black but I can see the silhouette of a body lying in the bed.

  “Marco?” I whisper. Realizing there’s no way he can hear me over the music, I say his name louder. “Marco?”

  “Bella?” he responds, his voice gruff. When I know it’s Marco in the room, I close the door behind me and lock it. It’s hard to see and I trip over something on my way to him, but once I’m closer I can confirm it is in fact Marco. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, I look around and don’t see anyone else in the room.

  “I’m not sure if you noticed but you have a party going on outside your room.” I try to go for light to break the ice.

  I hear him take a deep breath and release it. “Yeah, Janell loves her parties.”

  “Your girlfriend, right?”

  “Janell? No, just a… no, she’s not my girlfriend.”

  “Marco, there’s a lot of drugs out there.”

  “Belles, I can’t deal with whatever is going on out there.” He sounds so defeated. I reach into my back pocket and text Tristan, the phone illuminating the room.

  Me: I found him in his room. I’m talking to him.

  Tristan: I’ll work on breaking up this party without causing a scene.

  “How are you doing?” I ask, which is so stupid. I mean, really? The guy’s best friend is in a coma and he can’t train. Of course, he’s doing shitty.

  Marco ignores my question and says, “C’mere, Belles.” I scoot a bit closer to him. “Come sit next to me, please. I’ve missed you.” This time I crawl across the bed and sit up next to Marco. Now that I’m closer, I can see he isn’t laying down; he’s slouched but sitting up against his headboard.

  Marco turns to face me, the little bit of light peeking through the blinds letting me see his face. “Damn, Belles. You’re really here. I’ve missed you so much.”

  “It’s only been a few months since you’ve seen me.”

  “Seeing you at the gym doesn’t count. It’s not the same.” Marco runs his hand up my arm and cups my cheek. “I’ve missed you so fucking much.”

  I swallow thickly at his words because I’ve missed him just as much. It was easier to pretend I didn’t miss him when he wasn’t this close to me.

  “Have you missed me, too?” he asks.

  I nod slowly, the lump in my throat preventing me from saying the words.

  “It was your choice, Marco,” I finally say after a few minutes of silence. “You pushed me away.”

  “I was trying to do the right thing.” His fingers trace over my chin then move to my lips, up the curve of my nose, and down my cheek, like he’s trying to relearn what I look like. It makes me think of what a blind person might do to learn the facial features of someone they can’t see.

  “We weren’t doing anything wrong, Marco.” I take his hand and bring it down to the bed. His touch is driving me insane. When I go to pull my hand away, he grabs it.

  “I need you, Belles.” Those four words send chills up my spine. He says them with such conviction I almost believe him.

  “No, you don’t,” I whisper.

  I feel the bed shift and suddenly Marco is hovering above me. “I need you, Bella. Please.” His breath fans across my face and then his mouth is on me. His lips aren’t gentle like they were in the past. They are rough and punishing. They don’t taste like my Marco, and somehow, I find the strength to push him back a little, breaking our kiss.

  “Marco…” I say because I don’t know what the hell else to say.

  “Please… please, Bella. I just need to be close to you. I need my best friend back.” The vulnerability in his words are my undoing. I know full and well I am going to regret this tomorrow but right now all I can think about is how much I love this broken man, and the fact that he needs me.

  “OK,” is all I can get out before his lips sear into mine. He’s kneeling in front of me, and not wasting any time, he grabs my hoodie and tank top and pulls it over my head then he grabs his own and throws it all to the ground.

  Sitting back on his shins, he pulls my body down so I’m lying under him then he unbuttons my pants and pulls my panties and jeans down. I have imagined every day over the last several years about what it would be like to be with Marco again, but being with him right now…there’s no emotion. He says he’s seeking comfort yet his moves are all robotic.

  Reaching over to his nightstand, I hear him grab a foil packet. He lifts his lower body up, his arms caging me in and he kicks off his shorts. His lips return to mine, his tongue entwining with mine. There’s no foreplay, it’s nothing like it was the last time. He pushes into me too soon. I’m not wet enough and it hurts. But I don’t say anything. I just lay there, letting Marco use me.

  He nuzzles his face into my neck as he thrusts in and out of me lazily. My body finally accepts him, my sex getting slicker, and then… it’s over. I don’t even orgasm. Marco stops thrusting and rolls over to lay next to me.

  “Marco?” I move my face closer to his to get a better look and see he’s passed out. Sighing heavily, I go to the bathroom to clean up. As I stand, I feel liquid dribble down the side of my leg. It’s dark so I can’t see what it is. I go into his in-suite bathroom and close the door, turning the light on.

  I sit down to pee and grab the toilet paper to wipe myself. I don’t remember being this wet the last time we had sex, and last time, Marco made sure to get me off. Using my finger, I swipe the liquid from the inside of my leg. It’s sticky…

  Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.

  After wiping up my leg, I flush the toilet and wash my hands. Leaving the light on so I can see Marco, I walk up to the side of the bed and shake him. He doesn’t move at all.

  “Marco,” I say not bothering to whisper. Trailing my eyes over his body, I see he’s still naked. His dick is now flaccid and there’s no condom on it. I know he grabbed a condom…

  I start shaking out the sheets not even worrying about waking him up. I mean, really… who the fuck just passes out immediately after sex? As the sheet catches air, I see the foiled packet fly up then land back on the bed. I reach forward and grab it. Still wrapped! What. The. Fuck! He came in me? Mother fucker!

  “Marco!” I shake him harder. “Marco! Wake up!” When he doesn’t stir, I place my hand on his chest to make sure his heart is still beating. It is. I leave it there a few seconds to feel his chest rising and falling. Then I glance at the clock seeing it’s almost 3:00 in the morning. I have a math test in less than four hours.

  Throwing the sheet over his naked body, I grab my clothes and quickly get dressed. When I walk out of his room, the house is quiet. Tristan must have gotten rid of everyone. The house isn’t spotless and the music is still playing but it’s been turned down. I also notice all the drugs are no longer littering the surface areas.

  I see him and Gina sitting out on the back patio having what looks like a heated conversation. I don’t want to interrupt them but I need to get out of here. “Hey, sorry to i
nterrupt.”

  They both turn to face me. Gina’s eyes are bloodshot, clearly high. Tristan closes his eyes briefly and takes a deep breath before reopening them. “It’s fine. Is Marco ok?”

  “He’s sleeping. Can we go?”

  “Yeah.” Tristan’s eyebrows furrow, clearly wanting more but I’m not in the mood to give him anything else.

  “Might as well… Tristan killed the party.” Gina stands up, but wobbles shakily. Tristan quickly grabs a hold of her hips to steady her. I can see a myriad of emotions cross his features as he looks at Gina—anger, shame, annoyance, defeat, but most of all sympathy. And it has me wondering if maybe there’s more to why Tristan stays with someone like her.

  Marco

  Next morning…

  Holy shit my head is pounding! The light is seeping through the windows making me feel like my brain is going to explode. I reach into my drawer and feel around for a baggie. When my fingers touch it, I snatch it up, open it and pour the white powder right onto my end table. Grabbing the razor that I keep in there, I push it into a straight line then bring my nose down to the wood, inhaling deeply. The coke enters my nostrils and almost seconds later, I feel numb again.

  I close the baggie and throw it back into the drawer before shutting it. Laying back down against my pillow, my arm comes up over my face to block out the sunlight.

  “Marco? Are you awake?” Janell’s annoying fucking voice booms through the door.