Dissonance | ✓

08 | Needles

     On Saturday, Mason instructed me to meet him at his dorm by six thirty P.M. At six forty, I arrived at his door. I peered into the peephole and saw nobody there. The doorknob was unlocked, so I let myself in.

     The structure of the room was the same as my own, all except for there being only one bed, desk, and closet. Beside the desk was a dark bookcase. In place of books in it were trophies. Most of them were for basketball, but a few were awards for essay and creative writing competitions. They dated back to when he would have been in middle school, and were placed askew at the very bottom shelf. Who knew Mason could write?

     I took a pile of laundry from the desk chair, threw it onto his bed, and sat down. Pinned on Mason's bulletin board were work-out schedules and game dates. This contrasted with the poems scattered on his desk top. A recurring theme in the writing was war. It was dark, but very intriguing.

     My attention was drawn to a half-open drawer under the desk. Its contents were covered by fabric. Out of curiosity, I took a closer glance. I should not have done that.

     Needles at the end of syringes, with several small bottles around, was all I saw. Although I knew exactly what they were, I tried to convince myself otherwise. Maybe he was diabetic. Maybe he had some other condition that required self-injection. Anything other than what I thought it was. Deplored by what I had seen, I quickly shut the drawer, just as Mason entered.

     "Hey, I'm glad you let yourself in 'cos there are some serious losers out there, but if the supervi—" Mason stopped mid-sentence when he saw where I was. "What are you doing?"

     "Oh, um-uh...I-I..." I stuttered.

     His eyes grew dark. "Were you snooping in my desk?"

     He approached me and I retreated. He yanked the drawers open, and recovered his needles and bottles with the fabric.

     "Why were you looking through my stuff?" He growled. I stopped backing up.

     "Why are you on steroids?" I retaliated.

     Mason opened his mouth to speak, but did not say anything for seconds. Then, in the voice of a mouse: "It's none of your business." He sat on the edge of the bed, putting his head in his hands. I carefully approached him and kneeled on the floor beside him.

     "Whatever it is, you've got to tell me." My fingers gently stroked his knee. Seeing a person as cocky and egocentric as Mason vulnerable truly meant to me that he was putting down his guard.

     He took one hand and put it on my mine. "Basketball is my life, and I just can't fail. Riverdale is so stupid to not have bag checks and drug tests and all. I just took advantage, I guess, and it did spiral out of control a little. But I'm trying to quit now. I promise. All I need is for you to keep it quiet. Quitting will become that much harder if people bother me about it." Mason's eyes were cloudy. "I'm begging you. Please."

     "Of course I won't tell anyone. As long as you're quitting, nobody else needs to know," I reassured, pulling him into a tight hug. Then, Mason sat me on his lap, and crushed his lips against mine. His lips were soft and warm. The kiss sent me back to when he kissed my hand the first time we met: I had the same chills running down my spine. Right then, I did not judge him on how he appeared to be, or who he cheated on in the past. This Mason was the only version I wanted to know—gentle, honest, trusting.

     We originally planned to watch an indie band's gig at this small cafe not far from the school. After what had happened in Mason's dorm, we scratched that idea and opted for sitting under the willow tree and simply chatting. We shared embarrassing memories, cheesy jokes, and a bag of tortilla chips without dip. The night was amazing.

     As it neared midnight, a supervisor came over to tell us to go to our dormitories. I practically floated the whole way back, and when I returned to my dorm I had lain on my bed as if it was a body of water.

     I almost drowned in that water when Miranda stormed in and slammed the door behind her. I sprung up. Her usual flamboyant posture was gone.

     "Hey, what's—"

     I never even got to finish my sentence. Miranda snapped her head in my direction.

     She barked at me, "you know what's wrong, you bitch!" Attempting to ask her what she meant only angered her more, as she smote a desk lamp and sent it to the ground. If that would not have sent the supervisor up here, I did not know what else it would have taken.

     "I don't even know why I trusted you. You are so close to Josh. You only wanted to know so you could go and tell him." Red managed to tint her dark cheeks. She oozed anger, and I knew then that it was not wise to try and defend myself for what I knew I had done. She was talking about what I had told Josh when he was upset.

     Miranda pulled her bag from under the bed and shoved clothes and uniforms into it.

     "Where are you going?" I gingerly urged.

      She was already standing in the door threshold. "I'm gonna stay with somebody else. Trust me; it's so I don't set fire to your eyebrows at night."

∞

     My phone went off and jolted me out of my slumber. The room was still pitch black, except for the beam of light coming from my phone. Lazily, I unlocked it and read the new message I received:

     'TW: RANA spreads rumors about XIMENA and frames COLLEEN. SERIYAH suspended. COLLEEN betrays only friend.'

     After reading that, I felt like whoever wrote The Word was right in my dorm. That, or Miranda took it upon herself to humiliate me. On the other hand, I was pleased to see that Ximena cleared my name concerning her and Rana. Either way, I was still defamed.

     I dropped my phone onto the nightstand and flopped back into bed, frustrated with myself. There was no winning.

∞

     During lunch, the following day, I planned to meet up with Joey and Carter in the library. Miranda's grudge against me grew overnight, so I avoided her at all costs.

     When I arrived at the library, Joey and Carter were not yet there. I plopped into a chair and put my bag on the table in front of me, dust immediately flying up. I accidentally inhaled it and started hacking madly.

     "Are you alright?" chortled Joey, suddenly right beside me.

     I looked up. "Yeah, I'm fine." The hacking calmed down.

     Carter sat across me. "Are you going to Miranda's—wait, never mind."

     "Miranda's what?"

     Joey pretended to be deeply interested in something that was beyond a window on the opposite wall. Carter buried his head in a math textbook.

     "Whatever it is you're looking at is not answering my question," I said. No answer. "Am I talking to a wall?" I curtly said. 

     Joey puffed out a breath. "Colleen, you wanna know why things are different now? It's 'cos what you did to Miranda wasn't cool. She's really angry, and were not so...impressed."

     "So if you don't like me anymore," I said in a hushed voice, "why are you here? You might as well leave."

     The two tried to protest but I was in a rage that forbade me from hearing their reason.

     "You need to chill. You shouldn't even be the one upset," Carter spoke, collecting his things and leaving.

     "Maybe you should get a life outside those books!" I jeered. Hurt washed over his face as he glanced back, and I instantly wanted to take that back—I only said it out of frustration—but Carson was already plodding away.

     Why was it so easy for me to push away people that only ever tried to help? With Carter offended, Miranda betrayed, and Josh a no-go zone, I pretty much had no friends left, and I was only weeks into school.

     I was officially stranded.