When Buffy opened her eyes, she felt like a newborn being cradled in her mother’s arms. Megan was so kind. Her plump body was the perfect cushion for Buffy. Megan had rocked, and patted Buffy’s hair the entire time she had cried. She couldn’t have asked for a better friend. Buffy widened her aching jaw into a soft smile. Megan really was the other half of her clover.
“Hey, sleepy head,” Megan said, “feeling better?”
Buffy curled into a fetal position and held tight to Megan’s forearm. She sighed. Sure, she was all right. But she wasn’t ready to see Sean again or go back to the house. If Sean had told her mother about the fire, her mother would certainly have some words for her.
“It’s still my birthday, Megan, it wasn’t supposed to be like this.”
Megan stroked Buffy’s hair. “Well,” she said, “I guess we need to do something to make it better.”
Megan offered and slight grin that broadened to a toothy smile. Buffy snuggled into a tighter ball and nodded. Anything had to be better than the day she had just had.
“We can still go to the party,” Megan said.
Buffy rose to a seated position and shook her head side to side. “I can’t go like this.”
“Sure you can.”
“No,” Buffy said.
“Buffy, just put some glasses on and wear your hair down.”
“At night?”
“Yea,” Megan said and laughed, “girl, you’re dark-skinned, no one can even see the bruises in the dark. Now if it was me–” Megan cocked her head to the side and smirked. “I would look like one of those Mexican piñatas.”
Buffy chuckled. “You’re Rican, Megan.”
“You get my point.”
Megan had a good point. Buffy decided she would relieve her pain by partying the night away. She’d sulk and deal with Sean later. For now, it was all about her and her girl Megan.
“All right,” Buffy said, “but under one condition.”
“And what’s that?” Megan said.
“You cook the crystals.”
The two shared a laugh and made light of the situation. There was no need for lectures or for Megan to try to sway Buffy away from Sean. They both knew this was just another fight. And at the end of the day, Sean and Megan were both Buffy’s rocks.
***
A few hours later Buffy and Megan were at a local red cup party. To Buffy’s surprise, Sean was nowhere in sight. She missed him. There was nothing on her mind other than getting home and making sweet love to him to apologize for her irresponsibility. She sipped her beer from her cup and rolled her tongue around, swishing the bitter taste inside her cheeks. Yup. As soon as she got high, Sean would reap the benefits. Besides, it was her birthday. Celebrating without Sean just didn’t feel right.
Megan was in a daze, swaying to the techno hip-hop that boomed from the speakers. The marijuana she smoked, mixed with whatever beer was in her cup was clearly having an effect on her. Buffy slapped Megan on the butt, and Megan turned around laughing.
“Give me your backpack?” Buffy said.
Megan slid the backpack from her shoulder and dropped it into Buffy’s hands. Buffy’s arms were like spaghetti.
Buffy threw the bag over her shoulder and pointed to the back doorway. “C’mon,” she said.
Not sure if Megan was bobbing her head to the sounds of Rihanna or her instruction, Buffy proceeded to the backdoor. Megan followed behind her, dancing, never missing a beat. The two hunkered down on the cement patio behind the house. Buffy unzipped the bag and removed her glass pipe. It was so dark behind the house that the lighter was the only source of light. But it was all the light she needed for what she was about to do. Buffy lit the pipe, just enough not to burn the drug, and took a drag.
There was no feeling like chasing the dragon. She felt a surge of energy flow through her body. Damn. That meth. Those crystals. Her body. That high! Buffy passed the pipe to Megan and stood. She listened to the faint sounds of music that were coming from the house and was entranced by its heavy back beats and electronic rhythms. She twirled around in circles, laughing, smiling; feeling free. All that mattered was the music. Not a drizzle of pain from her mother, Sean, poverty, or life could stop the music.
Buffy reached out for Megan’s hand and pulled Megan to her feet. “C’mon dance with me,” she said.
Megan began twirling around to the music as well. They took each other by the hand and spun in circles. They spun and spun like two school girls singing Ring around the Rosie. Light headed and exuberant, they sung the words “We found love in a hopeless place…” at the top of their lungs for the world to hear.
Suddenly, the backdoor flew open damn near smacking Buffy in the face and a flood of teenagers poured out. Buffy looked over her shoulder and saw there were cops inside the house. She shot a glance over her other shoulder. The piercing light from a police car shown down the back alley.
“Megan, grab the bag,” Buffy yelled. “Let’s get out of here.”
Megan scooped the bag from the ground and both girls took off running. There were kids everywhere, cops too. Buffy looked behind her, Megan was right on her heels. They sprinted down the path with flashlights on their backs and cops chasing behind them.
“Stop running, you’re under arrest,” A cop yelled, but Buffy and Megan kept going.
“Megan, c’mon,” Buffy yelled.
Megan was slowing down. The sound of Megan’s feet hitting the sidewalk wasn’t nearly as close as when they started running. Buffy prayed that the cops wouldn’t take her friend.
“Megan,” Buffy yelled again.
“I’m here, Buff,”
Buffy ran faster after Megan’s reassurance. She didn’t want to look back. Cop cars seemed to pour into the streets. All of this for an underage party bust? Buffy concentrated on the road ahead. It was a red light at the Roosevelt Boulevard. Buffy darted towards the highway. She knew the cops wouldn’t cross.
“C’mon,” she said.
Buffy ran onto the boulevard and then– Boom. The chaotic sound of an accident made Buffy freeze in her tracks and look over her shoulder. Megan’s body was airborne. Like a movie, frame by frame, Buffy watched her friend’s body soar and then plummet head first to the asphalt highway. Megan’s head smacked the ground with a sickening thwack, and then Megan lay still, her head smashed in on one side, and her neck at an unnatural angle.
“Megan!” Buffy screamed.
The world fell silent. Blood poured out of Megan’s head onto the highway, creating a crimson stream. Blood was everywhere. Megan was dead. Her heart sank to the pits of her stomach and exploded .
The hot trickle of a tear escaped from one of Buffy’s ducts snapping her back to reality. This wasn’t a dream. This wasn’t a movie. Buffy gasped for one last breath of air as her eyes beamed at Megan’s broken body sprawled in the street. She wiped the tear away. The only thing her tormented heart could think to do was run.
5
Buffy didn’t stop running until she reached her front door, and once inside, she ran straight towards the stairs.
“Where the fuck you been?” She heard Sean yell as she passed the living room. Buffy continued on up the stairs without stopping, ran into the bathroom and slammed the door. She went straight to the tub and turned the shower on full blast. Without bothering to undress or even take off her shoes, she stepped in the tub, crouched down, and let the water cascade over her. It was at that moment she broke down.
The vision of Megan’s broken body wouldn’t leave her mind. Her heart hurt. Bad. She ached for an explanation of why something so terrible, so tragic, could happen. Seconds before the accident they were singing and dancing, celebrating Buffy’s birthday, and in just seconds, God ripped her best and only friend away from her. Buffy tucked her knees into her chest and wailed.
She looked up as the door creaked open and Sean stepped inside.
“What are you doing?” he said. The tub was about hallway filled and steam clouded the tiny bath
room. He grabbed the knob for the shower water and snatched his hand away. “Are you trying to burn yourself,” he said. “That water is scolding hot.”
She didn’t acknowledge him. What could she say? She couldn’t stop sobbing. Sean turned the water off with a towel and took a seat on the toilette. Buffy, still in tears, looked up at him.
“What happened, Buffy?”
Sean’s words were soft and gentle. He was so unlike the raging lunatic he was earlier that day. Buffy scooped up some of the water from the tub and splashed it over her face. She did it again and again. It was soothing. The scolding liquid burned but was like a pinch. A pinch to wake her up from her nightmare.
“Stop,” Sean yelled.
Buffy stopped. She looked up at Sean, and cried, “Megan is dead.”
“What?” Sean said.
“I saw it with my own eyes,” Buffy said. “She got hit by a car. The cars didn’t stop. The cops—they chased us onto the boulevard. Her brains were everywhere.”
“Buffy,”
Buffy screamed until her lungs gave out.
Sean removed a cigarette from his pocket, lit it, and inhaled. She saw a tear fell from his eye but he wiped it away. They both sat still.
“What did the cops say about her body?” Sean said.
“I left before–”
“You left her?” Sean said.
“I was scared,” Buffy said. “I didn’t know what to do. It’s all my fault.” She sobbed even harder.
“It’s not your fault, Buff.”
“It is,” she said. “I lead her to the highway.”
Sean put the cigarette out on the sink, bent down and removed his socks. He stood and stepped into the bathtub. The water moved up his clothing inch by inch, until he kneeled down, and was drenched like Buffy. Sean leaned forward and gave Buffy a kiss. His soft pink pillows soothed her crying but they still weren’t enough. Buffy bit down on his lip to hold back the tears.
Sean pulled back and locked eyes with hers. “I love you,” He whispered.
Buffy began to shake as she fought back her tears. Sean held the sides of her face and kissed her lips again.
“Buffy,” he said, “don’t worry we’ll get through this together.”
Buffy hugged Sean as tight as she could. When she finally calmed down, she lay back in the tub and pulled Sean to lay back on top of her, resting his head on her chest. Buffy cradled Sean just as Megan had cradled her earlier that day. It was a peaceful moment.
“We’re going to have to tell her mama,” Sean said.
The vibrations of his voice traveling through her chest, sent the words straight to her heart. Buffy shook her head. She couldn’t dare tell Miss Ramirez about her daughter. Megan and her mother had a rocky relationship due to Megan’s partying and wild lifestyle. She had begged Megan, and Buffy, to sober up and return to school. There was no way Buffy could face Megan’s mom.
“No,” Buffy said.
“I’ll go with you.” He said. “Someone has to identify Megan’s body. Miss Ramirez needs to know about her daughter.”
Buffy sat silent and contemplated Sean’s words.
“I can’t, Sean.”
Sean sat up and half turned around, looking Buffy in her eyes. “So,” he said, “you’ll let your friend’s body go unidentified for the sake of your pride? No grave? No funeral? Just so you won’t have to face her mother? Her mother who deserves to know that her daughter is dead and not high somewhere being a runaway. You want her mother to not have a clue?”
Buffy didn’t budge.
Sean turned red and scowled at her. “Buffy, I know you hear me. You’re so fuckin’ selfish. Everything isn’t about your temporary happiness, Buffy, Megan has family. Megan was supposed to be your best friend. Is this how you treat people you love. Is this how you would treat me?”
“Fine,” Buffy pushed him away from her. “Fine, Sean, I’ll go.”
Sean pulled Buffy in close and hugged her. “We’ll go together and talk to Miss Ramirez tomorrow,” he said, running his fingers through her hair, soothing her as Buffy released more tears of anguish. He was right. Someone had to tell Megan’s mother.
6
Buffy didn’t get out of the bed until 3PM. She didn’t eat and couldn’t sleep. Sean stayed by her bedside and downed Percocet after Percocet in between hitting the pipe, until their well of drugs ran dry. When she finally left the comfort of her bed, it was only to relieve herself in the bathroom. On her way back to her bedroom, Buffy noticed the door to her mother’s room was open a crack. Sean had been a great help and made sure Mama was fed, but for once, Buffy decided to make sure her Mama was okay.
Buffy staggered down the hall, pressing her hand firmly against the wall to maintain her balance. She felt nauseous and her head ached. She placed her hand on her stomach and took deep breaths. When she felt steadier, she slowly walked the rest of the way to her mother’s room and went inside.
Her mother lay in the middle of the queen-size bed, watching her. The bedroom, as always, was filled with clutter. Buffy picked her way across the room to the only chair, gathered all of the papers stacked on top of the seat, and placed them on the floor and sat down.
“Buffy, I can’t stand seeing you like this,” her mother said.
Buffy scowled. “Like what?”
Her mother didn’t respond. Buffy knew that in her mother’s sick state, she was intimidated. Buffy put her hands over her face and inhaled deeply.
“Sorry, Mama,” she said.
Mama nodded.
“Something happened yesterday,” Buffy said.
Her mother’s dark lips turned to a smile. “Happy birthday, Buffy.”
“My birthday was yesterday.”
“I know,” Mama said. “You think I don’t know my only child’s birthday?” Mama pointed to her matchbox size bedroom closet. “Look on that top shelf and grab me the blue box.”
Buffy sighed and reluctantly rose from the chair. Her stomach was still uneasy, and any movement made her queasy tummy churn. She reached into the closet and grabbed the blue box that sat on top of more papers and opened shoe boxes. The mess was nothing new. The entire house was strewn with paperwork and unopened envelopes. Buffy passed the box to her mother, but her mother shook her head and said, “No, you look.”
Buffy found her way back to the chair and opened the box. It was nothing but junk. A bunch of random items tossed into the box, which probably served as the beginning phases of her mother’s hoarding. Buffy frowned and put the lid back on the box.
“It’s just junk,” she said. She couldn’t remember the last time her mother could afford to buy her a gift. She secretly hoped that this time might be different.
“Girl,” Mama said, “open that box back up. You kids are so quick to label something junk and toss shit away. You’ll block a lot of blessings that way.”
Buffy rolled her eyes and opened the box.
“You see that blue envelope?” Mama said. “That’s what you’re looking for. Open it up.”
Buffy did as she was told and opened a small blue invitation envelope at the bottom of the box. Inside the envelope was a beautiful gold ring. It looked like an engagement rang. The ring was adorned with a single diamond, nothing too special, but yet it was very attractive to the eye. Buffy gawked at the ring for a brief moment. Her mother had never given her any jewelry. Matter of fact, she had never known her mother to possess any jewelry outside of the cheesy costume necklaces and earrings she’d occasionally worn before her illness.
“A ring?” Buffy said.
“That ring,” Mama said, “was a gift to me from your father. We were supposed to get married. Well, way before you came along we were supposed to. After he disappeared I saved it for you. I promised I’d give it to you when you turned old enough to appreciate it.” Mama exhaled deeply. “It’s probably the only trace of your father you’ll ever have.”
Inside Buffy was fuming but she did her best to restrain h
er feelings from masking her face. What kind of gift was an old ass ring that her deadbeat father gave to her mother as an engagement ring before he decided to skip town? Her father left her mother high and dry before he could even meet Buffy. So the ring damn sure wasn’t for her.
Mama was wearing a silly grin as if she really believed Buffy was pleased. Buffy forced a smile. Her mother was still naïve and stupid for giving her father any kind of credit. Buffy slipped the ring back into the envelope and stood to her feet.
“Thanks, Mama,” she said. “I’ll take good care of it.”
Mama nodded. “Happy birthday, Buffy.”
Buffy forced another smile and exited the room. As soon as she stepped in her room, she shoved the envelope into her top drawer, deep underneath her underwear and socks. There was no way she’d be wearing that piece of shit.
A few hours later Buffy and Sean arrived at Megan’s mother’s house. Ms. Ramirez hesitantly welcomed them into her home. There had always been mixed feelings with their relationship with Ms. Ramirez. One minute, Buffy and Sean were like her adopted children. She’d invite them over to dinner, gatherings, and always smiled when they stepped onto her front steps. However other times, she was a bitch. She’d blame Sean and Buffy for Megan coming home high, strangers being in the house, or money missing out of her pocketbook. Any problem that arouse, was to the blame of Megan and her crack head ass friends.
Buffy scanned the room. There were pictures of Saints, Jesus, crosses and other idols placed around the house. Prayer beads hung from tall candles that sat on the mantel. There wasn’t a speck of dust or dirt in the house and everything rested in its rightful place. It was the opposite of Buffy’s home. Ms. Ramirez stood on the opposite side of the room with her arms crossed, leaning against an old piano that was used as a shelf for knickknacks, eyeing down Buffy and Sean. After a few seconds of the stare game, Sean finally broke the silence.
“Ms. Ramirez,” Sean said, “I’m sure you’re wondering why we’re here.”
Ms. Ramirez gritted her teeth and glared.
Sean sighed. “There’s something we really need to talk to you about.”