22 | Painkillers

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I drove to school alone that Monday with a headache. The cold had settled in for good as frost clung to the windows of my car and my breath turned to smoke every time I exhaled. The morning sun flashed like strobe lights as it weaved in and out of bare branches, and it made my headache worse.

I had slept through most of Sunday and ignored texts from basically everyone, and as Monday rolled in like a storm cloud, dread settled in my stomach. I almost called out sick, but my mom wasn't having it and roused me with just enough time to half-dress myself and get to school before first free period was over. I hadn't worn a tie in two weeks, and to no one's surprise, I hadn't gotten in trouble yet.

As I pulled into my usual parking spot, I typed up a text with shaky hands. I blamed the cold.

DALLAS GUNTHER: I need to talk to you. Meet me at my locker in 5.

The text sent with a whoosh, and I was sure that's how my soul sounded as it escaped my body. I felt like I was about to be a passive onlooker in my own life, but maybe it was inevitable. Me in my own body was racking up bad decisions like extra points.

My loafers echoed off all the empty spaces as I trudged across the linoleum floors of the front hallway, as most students had at least somewhere to be for first period. My heart sank when I saw Jordyn leaning against my locker already waiting for me, golden strands of hair framing her face as she had her head tilted down into her phone. I let out a heavy sigh before approaching her.

"Hey," I greeted her as she slid herself away from my locker so I could open it. I dropped off my afternoon books and fumbled for nothing in my backpack to avoid eye contact with her.

"What happened?" she asked as she casually placed a hand on my forearm. "You went dark this weekend after the party, I was texting you and you weren't answering."

"Yeah, I had a really bad hangover." The lie slipped through my teeth effortlessly. "Just had to sleep it off."

When I finally looked up at her, she smiled at me and it made my heart lurch. She moved so that she stood in front of me with her back to the rest of the hallway, and I felt myself back into my locker. She had me cornered without even trying.

"So, what did you want to talk about, Dallas?"

I raked a hand through my hair. "It's just...this weekend..."

I swallowed back all my doubt, but before I could say any more, the floodgates opened up, and kids from every classroom spilled out into the hallways as first period ended. I groaned and leaned my head back against my locker. "Jordyn-"

She held her hand up to stop me. "Look, before you say anything, I just...I wanted to apologize for what happened at the Halloween party."

"Apologize?" I scoffed. "For what?"

She winced as she bit down on her glossy lower lip. "I shouldn't have just like...jumped you and kissed you without your permission. I know we were all kind of buzzed and whatever, but that's not really an excuse."

In football, there was a euphemism called Monday Morning Quarterback, where after game weekends a quarterback would watch game film and be able to point out where he could have done things differently or what he could have changed to make situations more in his favor. It was basically just the less cliche football version of hindsight is 20/20. While this generally didn't apply to me since I usually made the best decisions possible in a game, it obviously did not apply to other aspects of my life.

If I had known Jordyn was going to apologize for unknowingly (or knowingly) sabotaging my moment with Kaia, I would have made more of an effort to remedy the situation. I'd texted Kaia a few times after she had left, but she'd rightfully ignored me, and I let it go. I let her go. But Monday Morning Quarterback knew better.

"Oh." I nodded, still trying to process it all. "It's fine. Really, it's okay."

I wished Jordyn was an inherently shitty person, but she wasn't. Not even close.

"Anyway," Jordyn sighed out. "I just had to get that out. Your turn."

I didn't know what possessed me to look over Jordyn's shoulder at that very moment, but what I saw felt like someone was shredding up my heart in a blender. Kaia and Jackson leaned against a locker on the other side of the hallway, and she absentmindedly fiddled with his tie while he held her other hand in his. They laughed and smiled like nothing in the world had ever been wrong.

The soul that left my body earlier? He just whooshed back in and fed the little growing monster in my stomach with jealousy and hurt and trepidation. He took the wheel and course corrected, steering me right into the storm that I'd fought so hard to keep away. I gently took Jordyn's hand and pulled her closer into my body, feeling the warmth of her radiate through me.

"I just wanted to tell you...you have permission. To kiss me, I mean." I leaned down and pressed my forehead to hers. "Right now."

"Right now?" she echoed softly.

"Yes."

She rocked forward on her toes and brushed her lips against mine, and I tasted coconut lip balm on her lips. I gave her hips a gentle squeeze, silently urging her to kiss me harder. Longer. Hungrier. Keep the beast fed.

"Dallas," she breathed out against the crook of my neck after she pulled away. "Everyone is looking at us."

I didn't care that everyone was looking. I was only interested in one person looking. I let my eyes glance back over Jordyn's shoulder, and sure enough, Kaia had her eyes locked in on us. There was no going back now. I'd just have to live with the pain.

✗✗✗

NEW LIVINGSTON STORMS PAST CLIFTON 49-17 IN GAME ONE OF GROUP IV CONNECTICUT STATE PLAYOFFS

New Livingston star quarterback Dallas Gunther is no stranger to pressure or the playoffs, and it showed as he threw for a whopping five touchdown passes and rushed for one more in New Livingston's first playoff game against Clifton Secondary. Gunther was pulled in the fourth quarter in lieu of sophomore QB Lando Harrison to give him tangible playoff reps, as well as a taste of the shoes he'll be filling when Gunther and the rest of this dynamic senior class go off to play football at the next level.

While New Livingston's other senior captains, standout wide receiver Chris Thompson and linebacker Anthony Higashioka, have committed to the University of Alabama and Boston College respectively, Gunther has notably not made a formal commitment to any school yet. His rivals.com profile indicates he has over 10 offers, including rumored local frontrunner Cornell University. In accordance with NCAA regulations, Gunther has until April 1st of next year to finalize his decision.

New Livingston plays powerhouse Ridgefield High School in an afternoon showdown next Saturday, December 4th for a spot in the semi-finals.

"This is really so impressive," my Aunt Adrianne cooed as she folded the newspaper article back up and handed it to my mother. "We need to come see you play before the season is over."

"When they make the state championships, it's played  at UConn this year, so you'll be right around the corner." My mother smiled, and the way she said when they make the state championship wasn't lost on me.

My aunt and uncle lived in a ritzy suburb outside of Hartford, and we always drove up to my mother's sister's house and spent Thanksgiving weekend with her family. It was like a holiday cult ritual as we sat around my aunt and uncle's high-ceiling living room under the dim glow of a really ugly vintage chandelier, seeing whose yearly achievements could outdo whose to summon the demon sin of pride in human form. I was almost certain I'd be the sacrificial lamb tonight.

My cousin Kiernan was my age, and although he didn't have the athletic prowess I did, his parents had other things to humble-brag about, like his full scholarship to Northwestern to study Pre-Law. I couldn't be angsty about it - Pre-Law hooked me up with enough adderall for the rest of the semester so I didn't collapse. I'd been so wrapped up in everything, the entire month of November had gone by quicker than I could change my god damn socks.

"I thought you had already committed to Cornell," my uncle chimed in, taking a casual sip of his whiskey. While me and my cousins were old enough to earn a glass of wine at dinner, I was sure I'd get weird looks if I downed whiskey straight before we'd even made it to the table.

I stiffened up in one of the plush white leather armchairs that anchored the couches in my aunt and uncle's living room, but before I could speak, my father did for me.

"It's not formal yet," he said after returning his whiskey glass to a marble coaster on the coffee table. "We're waiting until we go to accepted students day in February to make the decision official."

My stomach groaned, and I wasn't sure if it was from hunger or the constant anxiousness that rolled through me all night. Every time my father said Cornell was like pouring acid into my gut. He glanced over to me, silently urging me to contribute to the conversation, but when I opened my mouth all that came out was a sickly belch.

"Dallas," my mother scolded in that harsh whisper she'd perfected over the years, where she didn't want to be loud but still wanted to discipline me. "Manners."

"Sorry," I grumbled. The more I shifted in that sticky leather armchair, the more uncomfortable I got. "Actually, Aunt Adrianne, do you uh...do you have any like, Pepto or something? I think I've still got a little motion sickness from the car ride."

She nodded and instructed me upstairs and down at the end of the hall into the bathroom attached to their master bedroom. I peeled myself out of the chair and made a beeline for the stairs before I could catch any glares from my parents wondering why I'd suddenly acquired motion sickness, but I couldn't explain the churning in my stomach if I tried.

I jogged up the spiral staircase two steps at a time and made it down the hall to my aunt and uncle's master bedroom, stumbling around in the dark for a light switch and nearly tripping over an antique trunk at the foot of their bed. I got to the bathroom and immediately turned one of the porcelain sinks on high, splashing some water on my face and hoping to drown out the sound of any potential dry heaving. The marble surface of the countertop was cool against my clammy hands, and after a few moments of trying to steady my breathing, I looked up into the mirrored medicine cabinet. I slept through the night and had developed a habit of napping most days after practice, and yet I looked like I hadn't slept in 10 years.

I yanked the medicine cabinet open and in my desperate fumbling, knocked two other bottles out and onto the counter while grabbing the Pepto. When I picked up the other bottle to put it back, the pills rattled against the orange plastic, and my eyes were drawn to the bold print on the label. PERCOCET 10 mg/650 mg. I let out a shaky breath as I pried the bottle open and dropped a pill into my hand - the same little pink ones my mother had.

What that article they all passed around failed to mention was the fact that I got sacked five times and had my knee pumped with cortisone during halftime. The trainers didn't even ask, they just pulled me into the back of the locker room and jabbed me. It went unsaid that I couldn't afford another injury, because an injury meant missing games, and now that we were in the playoffs, me missing games meant us losing games.

I took one more pill out and dry swallowed them both. Before any part of me could talk my mind out of it, I spilled the rest of the pills out into my hand and dropped them into the chest pocket of my button down shirt. I dropped the empty bottle into the garbage under the sink and ripped off a bunch of toilet paper to put on top of it. I glanced at myself in the mirror one last time before leaving, all too aware of the smoke-like circles around my eyes, and the paleness of my face, like I might as well have been a ghost. Maybe I was one, a transient being between here and a life made up of choices I made for myself, not for what people expected of me.

and i got way too many routes to take to make this all just go away
and find another heart to break, so heartless with these words i say
just saying what i'm supposed to say cause i had nothing for you

drugs / eden

END PART II

✗✗✗

well autumn is officially over, the playoffs are here, jordyn is (kind of) a good girl, and dallas is a bad boi.

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