Breaking Bailey Page 10

  February 1

  By third period today, I felt like I was dragging. I could feel the pills in my jumper skirt pocket. They felt heavy as lead but so did my eyelids. I kept thinking about how easy it seemed for Warren to do everything, and I raised my hand and got permission to go to the bathroom.

  Inside the bathroom I slipped one pill out of the bag and into my hand. I looked at myself in the mirror, like I was asking permission of myself or something. Or maybe advice. My reflection offered neither; the Bailey who stared back at me looked exhausted and scared, terrified of failing, and barely hanging on. I wanted to help her. I turned on the water and cupped my hand, ready to toss the pill back, and the door swung open. Luckily it was Katy.

  Katy: Hey. You all right? Saw you leave calc.

  Me, nodding and balling up my fist around the pill: Yeah. Fine. Thanks. You okay?

  Katy: What’s that?

  And because it’s Katy, and because I feel like I need some advice from someone who isn’t just a reflection, I opened my hand. Katy snatched the pill from my palm and a huge grin spread over her face.

  Katy: An Addy? Bailey! Did Warren give this to you?

  Me, apprehensive: Yeah. Is that a problem?

  Katy, snorting: Yes it’s a problem! He’s been holding out on me. Said he couldn’t get me any until next week.

  Me: You take these?

  Katy: Yeah. Who doesn’t? Wait. Don’t tell me this is your first time. . . .

  I stared at Katy dumbly. All of a sudden it was like a door had opened into a world I hadn’t been able to see before. Or maybe it was just that Wizard of Oz kind of thing. . . . Suddenly I was seeing things in color.

  Katy’s world, apparently, was already in Technicolor. She was laughing, calling Warren stingy, then she asked me if I had any extra.

  In answer I pulled out the bag.

  Katy, laughing harder: Mind if I join you, then? I don’t think I’m going to get through this day without something.

  Me: Sure. But . . . why does Warren get them for you? Aren’t you the contact?

  Katy: I make the contacts. I don’t necessarily keep them. Sometimes they like to deal with Warren directly.

  Me, not sure what to make of that, so switching the subject: Are you serious, though? Everyone here does this? It’s no big deal? I mean, it’s not dangerous?

  Katy: Hell no. I think it’s how most of us survive Prescott.

  So Katy took one of my (Warren’s) pills out of the bag and handed it back to me. We both swallowed them at the same time and headed back to class, giggling like idiots. I felt good. A little nervous about how it might make me feel, but good.

  When fourth period came around, something changed. I just felt more ALIVE. Like everything was super interesting. Even Shakespeare. I didn’t feel high or anything, just energetic. Almost hyper. And very, very capable.

  I’m noticing as I’m writing that it has worn off a little, but I still feel better than I have in weeks. Honestly, Warren was right. This was exactly what I needed.

  February 2

  Yesterday was amazing. I did well in all my classes, did my homework, and helped Warren at the lab until it was time to go home for the night. (And since we were alone in the lab, we took advantage. At least we pretty much always know ahead of time when Katy and Drew are going to stop by, so we didn’t worry about getting caught.) He walked me home, and as we were walking he smiled at me and said I seemed to be having a pretty good day. I got his hint and played along. I told him I was and asked if I could take more than one. He laughed like that question was adorable or something. Then he told me not to take both at once but to spread them out. He said I’d be able to tell when it was leaving my system, and I could take another then. We talked for a long time about what it felt like, and he was so amused by how excited I was. He said he could tell it was really working for me.

  I don’t know why I doubted him there for a little bit. Warren really cares about me. He’s not going to do anything that would hurt me.

  He did tell me it would make me feel like crashing later. He said I’d feel really aware and kind of hyper still, but also tired at the same time. He told me to drink lots of water and eat something, even if I didn’t feel hungry yet. He also gave me a bottle of melatonin, which he said would make me sleep even if my brain felt really active still.

  He was right about all of it. As soon as my energy waned, I felt thirsty and hungry and a little grumpy. I took one of the melatonin and lay down. Emily wasn’t home, thank goodness, so she wouldn’t know something strange was going on. Luckily, I didn’t have long to think about any of it. The melatonin kicked in, chasing out the energy left over from the Adderall, and I went to sleep. I think I slept like a baby. I woke up early and ready to do it all over again. I felt like I could take on the whole world.

  February 9

  So, when Drew said we were expanding, I guess it didn’t really compute with everything else going on that we would also be making more money. A LOT more money. Warren and I have nearly doubled our output and . . . the money appears to have doubled as well.

  I’ve been keeping money in an extra makeup bag I had, but now it’s almost too small for that. So, naturally, the only solution is to go buy something else to put it in.

  When Friday night rolled around and Drew had to make his deliveries, Katy and I caught a ride into Wiltshire with him, and of course Warren came too. We didn’t have to cook tonight. We’d decided we’d take most of tomorrow to do that. Sunday, Emily and I are going to the movies, so it makes sense to get the bulk of the supply started Saturday.

  Warren didn’t come with me and Katy to the mall, though. He said he was going to help Drew. That worried me a little. I like thinking Warren’s not directly involved like Drew, but I guess Drew needs extra help now, so this is going to be a regular thing. He told me not to worry about it. He said Drew’s good at what he does and they always deliver on their promises. Essentially, they’re too valuable to be hurt or ratted out. When I pressed him a little further, he told me Drew had protection taken care of.

  I’m not sure what that means. Do they pay someone to be their muscle? Does Drew pack a weapon? Have I watched far too many gangster movies?

  So I tried not to worry while the boys were doing business. Neither of them seemed like they’d be useful at all in a street fight (I can only write that here. They’d probably be so mad at me for thinking it, but come on, they’re brainy boys who don’t even play sports).

  To keep myself from worrying, and also because I had more money than I knew what to do with, Katy and I went into Sephora and had them do our makeup. I ended up buying every single thing they put on my face, as well as a few other things they recommended, and something they promised would keep my hair super soft, which was more for Warren than me. Katy bought some Dior lipstick and a French perfume I’ve seen Isa ogle before. Then we left in search of purses. I picked out a really cute brown-and-turquoise purse and matching wallet—for all my extra money. Katy assured me the designer was worth the price, even if it was half a week’s “paycheck.”

  We tried on dresses for fun. I guess Prescott has a formal (they don’t dare call it prom—proms are for peasants) in the spring, so it’s months away still. Only juniors and seniors can go. I assume Warren will ask me, if that’s his type of thing. Katy said he’d take me even if it wasn’t. I asked her if she’d go with Drew.

  Katy: Why would you think that?

  Me: You guys do everything else together, I guess, so why not formal? And you flirt all the time.

  Katy: We do not.

  Me: Liar. Come on. What is up with you two?

  Katy, pretending to be interested in a black sequined dress: Okay, don’t tell anyone I told you this. Even Warren, though I’m sure he knows. What’s up with me and Drew? I really don’t know. Sometimes he acts like he wants to be together, then he doesn’t. So, it’s confusing, and I feel like we’re always kind of together but not, but I’d feel weird about being with anyone else. I don’
t know. I guess it’s friends with benefits, but a little more sometimes and a little less other times.

  Me, shocked: So . . . you fool around with him and stuff but you’re not really together?

  Katy: Oh, come on, Bailey. Don’t be a prude.

  Me: I’m not! I’m just surprised that it’s not official. I never see him with anyone else. So what’s his deal?

  Katy: He’s so busy, I guess. The business is his first love, you know?

  Me: Yeah, but . . . Warren’s busy too. He still finds time for me.

  Katy: Yeah, because you’re both in the lab all the time. Drew and I are constantly out making connections in different places.

  Me: Yeah, okay. And you two must have done a hell of a job with this latest expansion. Warren and I can barely keep up.

  Katy, grinning like the cat who caught the canary: Yep. And it’s not going to slow down. The market’s getting huge. And you know what? It was all my idea.

  I didn’t ask what market or what, exactly, her idea was. Again, there are some things I don’t want to know. And also, it doesn’t really matter. We’re doing this safely, for people who are already addicted. It’s not like Drew is pushing meth on anyone who hasn’t been using already. He’s not even a dealer himself, just a supplier. It is as innocent as we can possibly make it.

  When I got home I put my money in my new wallet, in my new handbag, and slid it under my bed. Innocent or not, Emily doesn’t need to see it and get nosy.

  February 12

  Yesterday was fine. Emily and I went to see a rather serious film about World War II and went to dinner afterward, and she didn’t mention Warren once. But she did seem particularly restless. During the movie she kept squirming, and she rushed off after dinner. Maybe she had a lot to do as well. I ran to the lab when we were done and helped Warren all I could before I had to finish up what was left of my homework. I got it all done before midnight and actually got about six hours of sleep.

  But still . . . classes were the last thing I wanted to do today. What I really wanted to do was spend all day with Warren. Preferably alone. In his bed.

  It feels like break was forever ago, okay? And it’s hard that we don’t have that much time alone anymore.

  I ended up taking another one of the Adderalls that Warren had given me. I hadn’t all weekend, but I felt like maybe it was the only way to face this stupid day. It kicked in after breakfast and I felt good to go. I swear it gives me more brainpower or something. It’s like it unclutters my mind and lets me focus on the important things. I don’t find myself zoning out, even when Mr. Callahan is working over the sixth equation in a row, and they’ve all been things I could solve in my sleep.

  Then in the afternoon, after classes ended, I took another one. I was starting to feel that downward slide Warren warned me about, and I still had most of my day to go. I’m so glad I did. I had the energy to do all my homework and still stay in the lab until late. Warren was so entertained by how talkative I was, and I could tell he was also super impressed with how much I did tonight in the lab. I usually let him handle the bulk of the work so I can get my homework done, but tonight it was completely equal.

  I thanked him for the pills and told him they were helping. He said they’ve been helping him for years. If he’s been on these since middle school and he’s so completely together and brilliant, it clearly doesn’t have any bad side effects. I’ve heard pot can make you lose brain cells and be lazy, and people do that stuff all the time. Of course, Adderall is a prescription, so it must be safer anyway.

  Going to turn in. Another long day ahead of me tomorrow.

  February 19

  It’s been a while since I’ve written. Again. I probably should get better about this, but honestly, with everything going on, the diary my father gave me is just not a priority. Besides, Isa was probably the one who picked it out or told him to get it for me. It wouldn’t surprise me if Isa still keeps a diary *insert massive eye roll here*. It’s probably filled with things like “Got Greg to spend Christmas with me instead of his horrible brats!” or “Convinced Greg to send the ugly stepchildren to boarding school. It means one fewer trip to Paris this year, but c’est la vie!” But it’s weird. I feel bad when I don’t write. Guilty. Like I’m not holding up my end of the bargain, even though I never really made one with Dad. I guess maybe I’m hoping that one day he’ll want to know what’s been going on with me.

  Also, I have to admit, there’s something about writing down what’s going on with my life that feels a bit like therapy. It kind of helps me sort out my thoughts, which seem to be scattered at best. I’m just SO busy, so tired, and I feel like I will never catch up.

  Not that there’s much to report at the moment. Every day is just like the last. Too much homework, not enough time with Warren, Emily is sometimes restless or complains about Warren but is mostly okay and usually absent from our room anyway, and Katy and I have been meeting in the bathroom every morning to throw back an Addy before classes. We’ve been out for coffee only once this week, but she’s so busy too, all we can do is check in. She and Drew stop by the lab a lot, though.

  And Warren. I swear, he’s gotten even better over the last few days. I don’t know how. Maybe it’s just that I haven’t had a freak-out for a while, so he feels like he can relax around me again. It’s some kind of record for me or something. Whatever it is, I swear he’s more awesome than ever before. I’ve never seen him smile so much. And he’s just as anxious as I am to find some time alone together, but he’s never pushy about it. I really could not have asked for a better first boyfriend.

  Oh, and did I mention how beautiful his eyes are? Not lately? Ha. Okay.

  Anyway, off to bed. It’s 12:30 a.m. Tomorrow morning is going to be a bitch.

  February 21

  You know how the last time I wrote I was praising Warren for being so awesome?

  Well, we had our first fight tonight. It’s okay. He’s still awesome and all. It’s ME who’s not awesome. I’m just so afraid I’ve let him down somehow. He seemed disappointed. It was almost like what I felt like when I’d get in trouble with Mom: not scared about the consequences so much, just afraid that she thought less of me.

  It started at the lab. It was all fine. We were joking around and having a great time. We were even going over some ways we could maybe tweak our process to make it more streamlined, or at least a lot less messy. I’m not even sure how we even got on the subject from there. . . . I think I may have asked him what meth was really like. If it was like Adderall but stronger. And he asked me how much of the Adderall I’d been taking.

  Me: A couple a day. I’m about out, actually. I was going to ask for more. If that’s okay.

  Warren: How are you out? I gave you a couple dozen pills. It’s not even been a week. Are you lying?

  Me, horrified: No! I’m not lying. I’ve just been giving some to Katy. I didn’t realize she took them sometimes. So she and I have been taking a few together every day.

  Warren: (cursing like I’ve never heard him curse before)

  Me: I’m sorry. Was I not supposed to give any to her?

  Warren: No, Bailey. You weren’t.

  Me: Okay, well, I’m sorry. I won’t give her any more. I didn’t realize it was a problem. She kind of implied that you knew, that everyone did it, so I didn’t think it was a big deal.

  Warren, snapping: Of course not. She’s getting all the pills she wants. You don’t have any left?

  Me: No. Did you . . . did you need some? Did you give me all of yours?

  Warren, sighing: No, I . . . I shouldn’t have used so many. I just figured you’d still have some. And I can’t get you more until next week. I can’t get US more until next week.

  Me: Okay. I’m really sorry. And I was going to ask how I could pay you for them, I guess? They probably cost a lot, right?

  Warren: Yeah, Bailey. They cost a fucking lot.

  At that point I made myself really busy with chemicals and started crying because I’d screw
ed up . . . just one more thing I was screwing up in a long list. And honestly, because I’d never seen Warren this angry. I’d never seen him angry, period. He’s always been so patient and understanding. Now he was beyond irritable.

  I wiped at my eyes and that’s when he must have noticed I was crying. He immediately pulled me into his arms and kept saying, “Shhh,” over and over, even though I wasn’t talking. I buried my head in his chest and he stroked my hair.

  Warren: I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I shouldn’t have expected you to know. It’s just that they’re not easy to get. Not in that kind of quantity. And I’m . . . I’m a little over my head right now in what I owe people.

  Me: Can we make more product? Exchange it or sell it to make up for it?

  Warren: No. I don’t owe anyone money for drugs. That’s not what I meant. I owe for my car. For Princeton’s program. And I owe it to my parents. They pay for everything; I just pay them back. So finding some extra for pills is hard, even with all we’re raking in.

  Me, understanding now why everything was so serious and important: Then take some of what I’m making.

  Warren: I couldn’t . . .

  Me: Come on. This is for me, too, right? And honestly, Warren, this week . . . having that extra energy? I finally feel like I can handle everything. And I won’t share with Katy again. Unless she gives me a cut too.

  Warren, kissing me hard on the lips: I really am sorry.

  Me, kissing him back, but sweet and long: I know. Me too. Everything’s going to be all right.

  We ignored the chemicals simmering around us for a while and got quite lost in, um, apologizing to each other after that. As much as I don’t like fighting with him, I certainly LOVE making up with him.

  February 26

  I was a little off today. Just . . . sluggish. Kind of short-tempered. I was even a little rude to Mr. Callahan after class when he asked me if I’d heard from Princeton yet. I don’t know why. I just have this sinking feeling that it will be bad news and I don’t know why he has to bug me about it. So I said something snarky like, “I’ll let you know when I get my rejection letter,” or something and pretty much fled the classroom before he could say anything back. The last thing I needed today was him trying to convince me that I’m good enough to get in. I don’t need that kind of pity.