And then came morning.

I liked the way the smoke covered the room
as everyone tried to impress themselves with their
means of distraction from the fact that Paul wasn't around
so neither was his handy, dandy palm of pills.
I was on the couch.
I did not speak.
Mike came up to me, fed me a line.
I did not speak.
Fed me line number two.
Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?
His feet move as quickly as his lips.
I watch him.
Mike's cute.
He dresses nice and has several redeeming qualities,
which is much more than can be said
for half of the other gentlemen in this room.
But Paul's palm was all I wanted.
All anyone wanted.
I laughed.
Benjamin walked by.
My eyes followed.
You hate these parties, we've been inviting you since seventh grade.
But of course he did not hear my thoughts.
He was alone, I knew he was.
Benjamin was always alone.
Apparently a football jersey was not, in fact, enough
to make people forget that your mother
is the PTA leader from hell,
and your father is an in-
mate for the second time this year,
and you're the one who is
studying all the time, then rubbing it in our
faces when you ruin our curve
and we all repeat biology
a second time.

My thoughts scrambled when Paul walked in,
his beautiful fist closed around what
may as well've been my life.
My lips curled,
I probably felt more mischevious than I looked but
I felt good.
Ben met him at the door. I felt a chuckle rise from
the pit of my stomach when I remembered how we all
used to call him Benjammin'.
Then came fourth grade
and then came the reading tests
and then came Ben always winning
and then came no one wanting to talk to him.
But there he was.
Benjammin'.
He was talking to Paul
and Paul was laughing like an asshole
because Paul is an asshole.
He opened his palm.
Red. Green. White, white, white.
Different sizes and even more different effects.
I knew Paul knew what I wanted.
I knew I wore the shirt that would make Paul
give me what I wanted.
So I waited while everyone else crowded.
I watched Bob get a blue and Crystal get a yellow
and Mark pushed Charlie over the tiniest white
while Tyler tried to talk his girlfriend in to not taking one at all.
Good try, Ty. But she's grabbing a red.
And everyone knows red's last 'til dawn.
Paul elbowed Ben, "make a decision."
Ben's mouth tightened and he reached for a white.
A big white.
I felt my eyes widen a bit.
Hey buddy, that's a downer.
Everyone knows not to take downer's when
you don't have a date and there's
a crowd full of people who hate you.
You'll break, buddy. Put it back
and grab yourself some green, instead.
The kind that's not in Paul's palm.
Paul's palm isn't safe for you.
My thoughts were interrupted with that beautiful, dangerous palm
being thrust in to my face and his laugh filling
my head. I took in his scent,
as awful as always.
Then I took my poison,
and I grinned. An upper. The upper to make them all
seem like downers. I would fly.
I've been needing to fly.
And I laughed while Paul walked away and I curled
to the corner of the couch, watching everyone else
enjoy their time and
feeling like heaven was just in my reach.
I saw the beautiful light,
but then I saw Ben's back.
He was walking through the crowd.
He was still alone.
He was looking around.
This time, he knew it.
He knew he was alone.
He could feel it
and it was breaking him.
You could tell by how slow his movements became,
and the way his hands ran through his hair nervously,
and the way he picked a new direction every time someone's hand
touched someone elses
because no one wanted
to touch his.
Benjammin', I'll be surprised if you last 'til morning.
Even my thoughts came out flying, forming before I could decide against them.
I hate when that happens.
I closed my eyes.
I finished flying.
I accepted the fact that I'd only had one
and hadn't washed it down
and hadn't found green that wasn't pills
and was coming down quicker than others.
So I went to sleep.

And then came the morning.

Everyone was moving slowly,
they were just now coming down.
Paul looked happier than I'd ever
seen him, on the floor with
five girls and four bottles
and an empty, empty palm
which meant a full, full wallet
and new best, best friends.
I got up.
I got my bag.
I walked outside.
I made it to the mail box,
thinking I'd walk the two miles
home just like I'd walked the
two miles there. Instead my mom
met me, just pulling in to the drive way.
Her eyes scanned the fact that I still
had on the same clothes. "I won't ask."
My eyes just met hers, I did not care to scan.
"That's probably best." My voice sounded weird to even myself.
She pointed to the back seat. "Janet's son is in the hospital."
I knew that she meant our family had to
be supportive so I climbed in to the car and
shut my eyes again. I enjoyed the five minutes of peace
that comes with your mommy driving you around
at the age of seventeen,
just before my heart stopped.
What was the name of our PTA leader from hell, again?
"What's Janet's son's name?" I sounded more concerned than I'd ever, ever like to admit.
"Ben, why?"
I definitely
wasn't flying
any more.

So then came the hospital.

We looked at the waiting room and saw no one familiar.
So we walked down the halls
and of course, as can be imagined
with a frantic mother and a stupid son,
we heard her before we saw her.
We took a right, based on sound, and there she was
being ushered by doctors,
her eyes louder than her voice
which was shrill.
The doctors told her to calm down,
she moaned, "how can I be calm when you
say my son might die but I can't
hold his hand?"
The doctor countered, "how can we help your son
when you won't let my nurses
calm down and hold his hand?"
She glared. He did not mention Ben's possible
death. Only her definite irrationality.
I had to stifle a laugh.
I went to the waiting room.
I let them all whine.
I let them be supportive. I slept.
I woke up after only fifteen minutes.
Oh Ben, you're so stupid.
And that's when I heard the scream again.
And I knew Ben was in the position to hear me.
Ben was the type to go to a better place,
so I didn't pay attention to the fact that he
was in that hospital at his own hand;
at the decisions he made based on what was
in Paul's perfect, awful palm.
I just paid attention to the fact that he was honest
and handsome
and I always pictured angels as handsome,
so that's where he belonged, right?
I knew better than to suggest such to Janet.
I met my mother outside of his room,
Janet was in my her arms.
I looked at the rush of doctor's moving in to the room.
I did not cry.
I did not speak.
You don't take downers at a party
where everyone hates you
and you don't have a date. Who, then,
will hold your hand and tell you
that you're worth it and they, too,
feel alone in a room of fifty? You end
up wanting to get away
any way you can. You succeeded
since you're smart. But Ben,
you're so stupid.
I tried to care but it did not work.

I'd left my heart next to a puddle of vomit,
in between a plaid couch and it's striped cushions
in May of '84.

My soul had long before been sold.