Newborn

PART FOUR

I struggled with the keys, the lock, and my shaking, frostbitten hands. Okay, maybe they weren't 'frostbitten', per se, but I could no longer feel my fingertips thanks to this lovely winter's night. Eventually, the door opened, but it wasn't because of me. No, this was courtesy of my boyfriend, Troy.

Troy had dark, mocha-coloured skin and a burly body. He was about six feet tall and practically covered head-to-toe in tattoos. Normally he had big, beautiful brown eyes, but right now they were red-rimmed and bloodshot. It was his dilated pupils that gave me the answer that I was searching for—he was high, again.

"'Bout time, woman!" he exclaimed, his words slurred. "Normally you're back by three. Had a big night?"

I slithered inside and closed the door behind me. "If a big night means getting arrested, then yeah, my night was huge!" I rolled my eyes as I stood in his hallway—if you could even call it that. The house was a mess, as per usual. "And jeez, Troy, would it kill you to clean up this dump?"

I didn't know where to tread as I made my way into the main room. His apartment was small. It consisted of a joint lounge room, bedroom, dining room, and what might as well be considered his dumpster, too. This room was not only messy and dirty, but it was so unclean that it smelled like manure. Old pizza boxes lay on stacks of filthy clothes, which were covered in mud from being constantly walked on. Dirty underwear and more clothes were all piled up into a corner that was pretty much—what he considered to be—his closet, and old bottles of fizzy drink and beer were spilt everywhere.

"Oh, hell no!" Troy stormed over toward me, crushing any junk in his path. "Again? You were stupid enough to get busted again? What? Are you just screwing guys in parks now or sum'in?"

Those words completely obliterated any of the 'you're worth something' confidence Reed had just given to me. Just like that, my shoulders slumped, and I felt two inches tall. "No," I said, not meeting his gaze. "They didn't catch me in the act. But they knew what I was doing, so—"

"You got another fine," he said, finishing my sentence for me. "Damn, Helena. Can you do anything right? How much this time? Jeez, bitch, you cost more to keep than you're worth!"

It was hard to believe that there was once a time when I cared for Troy. I don't know what I was thinking, but now I almost hated him. Almost. Besides the fact that he was twenty-nine, and I was still technically a minor, he just wasn't the man I had feelings for anymore. Not even close. Troy was unemployed, living off the government, and dealing drugs when he wasn't busy reaping profit by doing them himself. I could tell that he was high right now, but on what, I couldn't say exactly. In fact, it was probably easier to name what he didn't take because that would result in a shorter list. The main giveaway to his drug habit wasn't just his dilated pupils. It was the way his personality changed. When Troy was clean and sober, he was never this mean to me.