The next morning, I woke up early, pleased with the job I had done the day before. I made my way through the apartment, and, even after more than two weeks living there, I was still shocked by the view. Standing against the floor-to-ceiling windows running the entire length of the apartment, I could see nearly the entire city, shining with the glow of sunrise in the distance.
“It still gets you, too, eh?” Gabe asked, walking up next to me and holding out a full coffee mug for me to take. It was black and had a large, silver H emblazoned on the side of it, a subtle reminder that no matter how safe and protected this new life felt, Harrison was still there, likely watching our every move.
I took a drink of the coffee and recoiled slightly at its bitterness. Gabe had never been the best at making it back in California. “I wonder how far you can see from up here,” I said quietly.
“Well, from our height, and taking into consideration it’s a pretty clear morning, I’d say we can probably see a good forty or fifty miles. But I’m no mathematician.” I stared off to the southeast, not responding to Gabe’s answer, but as if he was reading my mind, he responded, “You can’t see the past, no matter how high up you are, Jamie.”
I chuckled half-heartedly. “I just wonder if things would have been different had we stayed. I wonder if…”
“Stop there,” Gabe said, interrupting me. “It doesn’t matter. We made the choices we made, and that’s all there is to worry about. We’re alive, and our families are alive. We have to live with the hand we’re dealt, and stop worrying about all of the ‘what if’ scenarios you’ve got running around inside that head of yours.”
I knew he was right, but there wasn’t a day that went by where I didn’t spend at least some portion of it wondering what life would have been like had we not left Hastings, or better yet, had I never started dealing drugs with Gabe in the first place.
“You’re right,” I forced myself to say. “What we’ve got going right now, well, it could be a lot worse. We lost the lives we had back in Hastings. We lost the surf shop and everything we had going for us in Behler, but living on the top floor of a skyscraper probably isn’t the worst thing in the world.”
I knew it was true. I also knew that only two weeks before, I hadn’t even expected to be alive right then. Maybe everything hadn’t worked out the way I wanted it to, but I was, for lack of a better term, lucky my life had played out to this point at all.
“How did the sale go yesterday?” Gabe asked nonchalantly changing the subject.
“You know, it actually went pretty well. You would never believe the type of kid I sold to though.” I said as Gabe raised a questioning eyebrow. “He was this rich politician’s son who basically lives to break the rules and achieve new highs.”
Gabe’s eyes rolled. “He sounds like a loser to me.”
“I thought so at first, too,” I said. “But after a few minutes, he started to grow on me.” I paused for a moment, contemplating whether or not to bring up to Gabe the fact that Ben Bradley had offered to introduce us to new clients at one of his parties.
“And?” Gabe asked, knowing there was more to the story, as there always seemed to be.
“And he offered to introduce me—us to some new clients. He seemed like a part of some rich kid inner circle who likes to spend all of his parent’s money on drugs.”
Gabe nodded his agreement. I wasn’t sure if I expected him to think it was a good idea to have Ben introduce us to possible new clientele or not, but he seemed to be going along with the idea. In this new situation we were in, a new customer was a new customer, and would only make us that much closer to paying off our debt to Harrison. And technically, being that much closer to paying off our debt meant we were that much closer to being free, though I had my doubts Harrison would actually let us go when all was said and done. After all, if you have a girl who can spend straw into gold, you don’t get a little gold and send her on her way; you lock her up in a dungeon and make her spin gold until she dies from exhaustion… or something like that.
“If this kid says he can get us some clients, I say get in close with him and make us some more money,” Gabe said, taking a swig of his coffee and pretending it didn’t taste horrible. “Does he go to school here?”
I paused. I knew mentioning that Ben went to Bierce was a bad idea. Gabe knew Riley went to Bierce, which meant I should probably stay as far away from the campus as possible. Not only did we not want Riley Frazier knowing I was alive and well in Chicago, but the last thing I needed in the world was to see her face to face.
“Yeah, he goes to college here,” I said, not lying.
Gabe eyed me. “Which college?”
“…Bierce.”
He opened his mouth to protest, but I quickly cut him off. “It’s fine, Gabe. Bierce is a very large campus. I won’t run into her.”
Gabe thought it over for a second. “You know what, if you say it’s okay, then it’s okay. We’ll go to one of these parties at Bierce, and we might meet some new people to sell to. I trust your judgment.”
“Thank you,” I said as Gabe took one final drink of the tar coffee. “I have a question for you, though.”
Gabe didn’t speak; my signal to go ahead and ask.
“Why do you even bother pretending your coffee doesn’t taste like shit?”
Gabe laughed as he took another drink, spitting the coffee back into the mug and wiping his chin with his free hand. “You’re right. It does taste like shit.”
I patted him on the back and sat my still-full coffee mug on the kitchen counter. As I began to walk back towards my bedroom, I threw out one more piece of information to Gabe. “I don’t have much on my schedule today, so I think I’m going to go scout out some possible buyers before I talk to Ben again,” I said.
Gabe shrugged. “Have fun. Be safe. Don’t wonder into any bad parts of town.”
I couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not, but we seemed to be getting along, at least for the moment. “Okay. Have dinner on the table when I get home,” I said.
Gabe let out a laugh, saying, “You fucking wish.”
Less than an hour later, I had showered and changed, and was on my way out of the apartment building. I walked in the direction of the Bierce campus, but found myself feeling slightly guilty. I hadn’t technically lied to Gabe about going to Bierce to scout for customers, but I hadn’t told him the entire truth either. I knew he would be fine if we were on the campus together, but I wasn’t sure if he would want me there by myself.
I didn’t matter all that much anyway. Gabe was no longer the boss of me, and he never should have been in the first place.
It only took me about twenty minutes to walk from the apartment to the gates of Bierce University. In Chicago, it seemed like everything was a short walk or bus ride from everything else. I hadn’t taken the trains since arriving in the city.
The campus sat on the only island in Chicago, a small spattering of man-made land called Goose Island, positioned between the North Branch of the Chicago River and the North Branch Canal. The island had once been an industrial hub of the city, but had eventually been bought out by Andre Bierce, who planned and built what would one day become one of the most prestigious colleges in the country.
The college that I had planned to attend for most of my teenage years, the college I had started selling drugs to be able to pay for.
I crossed the bridge and walked through the campus gates, staring around in awe. I had seen pictures of Bierce in brochures and online, but had never actually visited the campus in person. The entrance to the college was both welcoming and humbling. A life-size copper statue of Andre Bierce stood surrounded by fountains that shot water from one to the other. The fountains were surrounded by benches, tables, and shrubbery, making the commons area look very expensive. The mass of students walking around in designer jeans and jackets only added to the prestige of the area.
Positioned just in front of the Andre Bierce statue was a metal pole w
ith dozens of different signs all pointing in different directions, each showing the way to a different school within the campus. Bierce School of Medicine, Bierce School of Law, Bierce School of Education; the list went on and on.
I tried to use the signage to my advantage, wondering which area of the campus would have the most likely buyers of Manic. It was a party drug, but a party drug for the rich only. I could easily assume everyone on the Bierce campus was rich, but which students would be most likely to use something like Manic?
I thought back to the beginnings of my days selling weed with Gabe. He had tested me, giving me only a name of a buyer and a location, but not telling me exactly who I was looking for. I had to spend time in the location until I finally figured out who I was actually selling to. I would likely have to do the same thing at Bierce, only with less information to go on. I would have to scope out the area and actually talk to people. I had to find out who might be interested in Manic.
I looked around, trying to figure out who I should speak to first. There were hundreds of students walking through the area, but they all looked the same. No one stood out from anyone else.
Without much rhyme or reason, I chose a girl who was standing (not walking) with her back to me. It looked as if she was trying to dig something out of her backpack, and I thought it would be a perfect opportunity for me to approach her. I wasn’t sure what I would say at first, but maybe if I just tried to get to know her, pretend to be a student, she might open up to the point I could eventually ask about Manic.
“Excuse me,” I said, reaching out my arm and tapping her on the shoulder.
The girl spun around, startled, and looked me directly in the eye. I hadn’t noticed at first, but she had long blonde hair that hung around her face in beautiful curls, and a smile that would light up a dark room.
She started to speak, but suddenly seemed to lose her voice, stuttering out only a few, incomprehensible syllables as her mouth slowly gaped open in shock.
My mouth dropped open as I took a step back, not sure what to do or say.
Standing in front of me, face to face with me for the first time in over a year, there she was. Riley Frazier, the girl who’s life I’d ruined in the process of ruining my own.
She dropped her backpack onto the ground and continued to stare at me as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. To her, I had become a ghost who vanished into thin air. For all she knew, I had died after escaping Hastings. But no, here I was, standing right in front of her, on her college campus.
How was this even possible?
“Riley…” I began. I’m not even sure if it came out as a statement or a question.
Her palms slammed into my chest, pushing me backwards as an angry groan escaped her mouth. It sounded as if she was crying, but I could see no tears.
“Stay the HELL away from me!” she shouted as I nearly toppled over backwards. For a small girl, the force behind her shove was almost as strong as being hit by Gabe. I caught my balance and tried to think of words to say, anything to say that might calm her. But truth be told, I was in as much shock as she was.
“Riley…” I started again.
“How DARE you come here! How DARE you show your face here!”
Saying Riley was furious would have been the understatement of the century. I knew running into the girl I had once (and still) loved would cause a near-cataclysmic event if it ever happened, but I honestly never believed in a million years I would ever see Riley Frazier again.
“Please calm down,” I begged as people around us began to turn and stare. “I never thought I would run into you here! You have to believe me. I would never put you through that on purpose.”
She let out the angriest laugh I had ever heard. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You’d never put me through something like that on purpose? What about the last year of my life, Jamie?”
I tried to think of anything I could say to keep Riley from punching me in the face and storming off, but I had a feeling my efforts would be futile. Of everyone I had hurt since abandoning ship in Hastings, Riley’s life had been one of the most altered. I’d spent the majority of my time since running off trying to justify and rationalize the hell I’d put her through in the short amount of time we’d been together, while she had likely spent the same amount of time trying to forget I had ever existed.
Just then, I realized just how many lives I had changed for the worse since leaving. Riley’s life had been torn apart, yes, but so had the lives of my parents, my brother, my now-dead best friend, his family, Gabe’s family, all of our friends, and countless others.
I was Jamie, life-ruiner.
“I understand how you must feel about me now,” I began. “But those feelings are nothing compared to the way I’ve felt about myself since leaving. You have to believe that.”
Riley eyed my nice, new clothes and shook her head. “You look like you’ve had it really rough,” she said sarcastically. “And you don’t understand anything.”
I shifted my gaze to the ground, trying to control my emotions. I was sad Riley had become so cold towards me, but also angry. She didn’t seem to understand what I had been through was just as bad, if not worse than what she had experienced. My best friend had died. I hadn’t seen or spoken to my family in over a year. My life had become only a shell of what it once had been. Nice clothes or not, my life was shit.
“I lost everything,” I whispered.
“You left everything,” Riley stated bluntly, not an ounce of empathy or remorse in her voice. I suddenly realized this new, cold, hateful Riley was my creation. She no longer cared about me or trusted me because of me.
I tried to think of a new way to get her to at least listen to me without dismissing everything I had to say with angry comebacks, but was coming up short. She stood, arms crossed over her chest, waiting for me to try to win her over.
“I know I’ll never be able to fix things with you,” I began. She opened her mouth to speak, but I didn’t give her the opportunity. “I know I was stupid for even thinking for a second you might consider hearing me out. And to be honest, all I really want you to know is that I completely acknowledge my fault in everything. I ruined dozens of lives, but there is nothing I can do to ever change that now. I fucked up.”
“You did,” she said more calmly.
She wasn’t yelling at me, so I decided I should try to say as much as I could before she started again.
“Look, I’m going to be in town for a little while, but not by choice. I’ll do my best to not run into you, but I’d appreciate it a lot if you didn’t tell anyone you saw me. I’m not exactly the most popular person on the planet right now,” I said, ashamed.
Riley sighed deeply. “I won’t tell anyone.”
“You promise?” I asked.
She stared at me for a long moment, but I couldn’t be sure why. Was she considering what I had just asked? Was she trying to remember my face in case she never saw me again? Was she still in shock from running into me in the first place?
“I promise,” she said quietly, tears in her eyes.
“Thank you,” I said as I turned and started to walk back towards the entrance to the college. I had decided trying to find new clients for Harrison could wait another day.
Before I was too far away, Riley said my name just loud enough for me to hear. I stopped and turned back to her slowly, not sure what to expect.
She paused momentarily and said, “Jamie, if I ever see you again, I’ll tell the police I saw you. I’ll tell them you’re in Chicago.”
I nodded at her, knowing she was telling the truth.
(A Broken Home)