What I just can't get past
Is the way we let it end
Now I'm wonderin' where (s)he is
Knowin' I can't get that goodbye back.
-Luke Bryan, "Roller Coaster"
Brooke
"Are you sure, Brooke? You're good at this job, and there are management opportunities available for you. Do you really want to throw that away?" Jackie, my manager at Sephora, questioned.
"Jackie, I don't want to quit. I really don't, but I cannot work with Madison. It's not good for my recovery," I said, not wanting to throw Madison under the bus, but Jackie just wasn't letting it go.
"What do you mean?" she asked, a perfectly sculpted eyebrow dropping.
I sighed. "Jackie, I've told you everything, right? Heroin use, DUI, miscarriage?"
Jackie nodded. "Yes, and HR determined that since you never used while on the clock and you completed your rehab, you could keep your job. What does any of that have to do with Madison?"
Wow, she really has no clue. "Madison introduced me to heroin. I'd never used it before I met her. And I met her here."
Jackie's mouth dropped open slightly. "Oh, Brooke. I didn't know. I'm sorry."
I shook my head. "You don't have to be sorry. But I can't work with her."
Jackie chewed on her lip and looked up at the ceiling. "Okay, look. I'll level with you. You're up for a promotion. I was going to make you assistant store manager. That comes with quite a pay raise along with benefits. What if I never schedule the two of you on the same shift?"
I considered this. I could use a pay raise, and I did like my job. I nodded. "Okay. But I want day shift."
"Done!" Jackie exclaimed immediately. "And if you see or hear about a trace of heroin use... you let me know right away," she ordered.
"Okay. Got it. Thank you, Jackie. I really appreciate this. You could've just written me off as a loss, and you didn't," I said, standing up to hug her.
"You're welcome, Brooke. I believe in you," she said, hugging me back.
"Thanks," I grinned. "Well, I guess I'll see you at the end of my shift tomorrow."
"See you then. Your training will begin next week," she said as I left the office.
In the parking lot of the mall, I saw a familiar silver Toyota sitting next to my car.
Madison.
Shit, I thought. She's the last person I want to see right now.
She jumped out of her car and waved wildly. "Brooke! Where have you been, bitch?"
I bristled at the use of our old nickname for one another. "I've been in rehab, Madison," I snapped.
"Oh, well, isn't that precious. It was just as a condition of your DUI, though, right?" she asked suggestively.
"No – I mean, yes, it was a condition, but that's not the only reason I did it. I'm almost two months clean now, and I intend to stay that way," I responded, opening my car door and turning to face her.
She pouted. "Oh, come on Kane. That's no fun," she mocked.
I saw red. "No, Madison. You know what's not fun? Getting pushed around by your boyfriend, getting a DUI, spending weeks in the hospital and rehab, losing the person you love, and then having a fucking miscarriage. That's what's not fun!" I screamed.
She stepped back, and a look of sadness crossed her face. "Oh, Brooke, I'm really sor – "
I held my hands up. "No, Madison. You do not get to say that to me. If it weren't for you, I'd never have started doing heroin, I never would've met Jordan, and I never would've lost Luke."
"Come on. You can't blame me for all that," she said, crossing her arms.
"You're right. I can't. I take blame for it too. It was ultimately my choice. But you were a part of it, a big part. And if I never see you again, it'll be too soon," I hissed, getting in my car and slamming the door, peeling out of the parking spot. I barely looked to make sure I wasn't going to hit her.
***
When I got home, Katherine was already at work and the house was quiet. I did laundry and washed the dishes in the sink, then sat on the couch to watch TV.
I sat for about thirty minutes before I picked up my phone. I opened my contacts and scrolled until I saw his name on the screen.
Luke.
All I wanted was to hear his voice... to see how he was. But he made it pretty clear he didn't care to talk to me. I had sent him that long text, pouring my heart out, and he didn't even respond.
But damn it, I was lost without him. I at least needed him to be a friend... but maybe that was impossible.
I sighed and kept scrolling until I landed on Rachel's name.
I tapped her number and waited, listening to it ring once – twice – three times.
Finally, she picked up. "Hello?" Her cheery, melodic voice made me feel instantly emotional.
"Hey, Rach, it's Brooke," I said, attempting to clear the lump out of my throat.
"Brookie!" she greeted. "Is this your new number? I must've forgotten to save it!"
That cut me a little, but I ignored it. "That's okay. What are you up to?" I asked, standing up to pace around the living room.
"Stop!" she squealed to someone in the background – probably Miles. "Sorry," she said to me. "We're decorating the balcony for Halloween and I swear if he doesn't stop tickling me, I'm going to fall to my death!" she joked.
I laughed. "Don't do that. I'd miss you too much," I said quietly.
"Aww! Hey, I do miss you. Why don't you come up for a visit?" she suggested.
My heart constricted. "I don't know – I mean, wouldn't that be awkward, with Luke and all?" I asked.
"He'll get over it," she said, quieter this time. The noise in the background had disappeared. "You're still my best friend, B."
I smiled, a tear sliding down my cheek. "Thanks, Rachel. I really needed to hear that. I'm pretty lonely down here."
"I'm sorry... is Kat working a lot?"
"Yeah, insurance didn't cover my entire stint at rehab, so she and I both have been working overtime... by the way, I got a promotion today."
"You did?! That's incredible. I'm so proud of you!" she exclaimed. "What?" she yelled again, to someone in her apartment. "Hang on," she said to me.
"Okay," I replied.
In the background, I heard a female voice. "Rachel, Luke wants to know if..." I didn't even need to hear the rest of the sentence; it was the redhead from the parking lot.
Rachel said something to her, but I didn't catch it. All I could think about was Luke's arms around that girl, and I momentarily lost the ability to speak.
"B? Are you there?" Rachel was calling.
"Y – yeah, I'm here. But hey, Kat just got home," I lied. "I gotta go. Love you, Rachel, talk soon," I choked out, hanging up before she could ask me what was wrong.
I let out a scream of frustration, throwing my phone down onto the couch. Everyone was moving on without me, and I was stuck here in the same goddamn spot. This girl, whoever she is, had just moved in on my friends... not to mention the love of my life.
But it was all my fault. Not Madison's, not Jordan's, not Luke's or even this new girl's. It's all me.
I ran down the hall to my room, dropping to my knees in front of my nightstand, rifling through the drawer until I found what I was looking for.
A baggie with a piece of tinfoil, a lighter, spoon, tourniquet, clean needle... and the china white that I had gotten from Jordan when things were still good between us.
I took the baggie into the bathroom and locked the door. My legs were shaking as I sat down on the edge of the claw-footed tub.
I took out each part of the high I was chasing, laying it on a towel on the toilet seat.
As I stared at each piece of the puzzle that would complete the high I was craving, I tried to give myself a reason not to do it, but the hateful voice in my head just wouldn't shut up.
Why not just shoot it, Brooke? You don't have any friends. You're not pregnant. Your sister works all the time, she won't even notice. Just this one time, right? You didn't know your last high was going to be your last, so you deserve one more hit. Right?
I closed my eyes, trying to clear my head.
Beep.
I opened my eyes and pulled my phone out of my pocket to read the text.
It was from Katherine.
Brookie, I took tomorrow off. Let's go to dinner tonight and then shopping tomorrow in Destin. What do you say? :)
There it was... a reason not to do it. I stood up, pushed everything off the toilet seat and opened it, flushing the white powder.
"Fuck you," I said out loud, picking up everything else and shoving it in the baggie so I could dispose of it properly. "I won't be taken down again."