The Only Medicine

I wake to overcast light straining through the curtains. My mouth feels tacky and tastes like the remnants of marijuana smoke and beer, and my arm is numb from sleeping on it. The fold-out bed is empty in the corner; for once, Vic has woken up before me. I sit up and fumble under the sheets for my phone. Vic’s alarm clock reads 1:16PM—jeez. I haven’t slept that late in a while.

I get up and grab some clothes out of my backpack on Vic’s dresser and get dressed, then head out into the hallway. Mike’s room is closed up, so I have no idea if he’s still asleep in there or if I’ll run into him upstairs. I find Vic splayed across the couch, watching cartoons on the TV.

“Oh, hey,” he says, sitting up. “I made you breakfast.”

Sure enough, there’s a plate covered with a paper towel on the kitchen table. I sit down and uncover a couple of pieces of tomato-on-toast and a banana.

“Aw, thanks Vicky,” I gush.

“I thought you might be a bit hungover,” he explains.

“Yeah, maybe a little bit,” I reply. I want to ask where Mike is, but I also don’t.

Vic goes back to watching cartoons while I eat breakfast. It’s an episode of Kim Possible that I’m sure we’ve seen before.

“Do you still want to go watch a movie?” I ask around a mouthful of toast.

“I dunno. We could just go to the mall and hang out?”

I shrug. “Sure.”

Vic remains lounging on the couch while I get up and clean the plate, then head downstairs to clean my teeth. I grab my toothbrush out of my backpack and turn and almost bump into Mike, who’s leaning in the door.

“Jesus, Mike. You nearly gave me a heart attack.” I wait for him to move out of the way, but he stays where he is.

He refuses to look at me. “I need to talk to you.”

The blood rushes into my ears. Yeah, I knew this was coming. He steps into the room and shuts the door behind him. I open my mouth to warn him that Vic will think we’re up to something, but what’s the point—I know what he’s going to say.

He sits on the edge of the bed and looks at his hands. I want to stop him, but what could I possibly say?

“I guess you know what this is about.”

I don’t trust myself to speak. A knot is forcing its way up my windpipe.

“I thought I would be okay with this, but I can’t stand being second place anymore,” he sighs.

“What, because I wouldn’t fuck you last night?”

He glares at me. “You know it’s more than that.”

I look up at the ceiling, anything to stop the tears threatening to creep out from under my eyelids. “You said you were fine with it.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not.”

I let out a sigh and a couple of tears spill out; I wipe them away hurriedly. “So, what, that’s it? We just pretend nothing happened?”

“You could just tell him.” When I don’t immediately say anything, he sighs and rolls his eyes and gets to his feet. I let him walk past me to the door, willing the tears back up into my eye sockets so Vic doesn’t ask questions.

“I need to not see you for a while,” he says, then I hear the door click behind him, leaving me alone in the room.


“Are you ready to go?” Vic asks as I come out of the bathroom. I’ve spent the last fifteen minutes cleaning my teeth and trying not to cry, and I’m sure my face is flushed and puffy regardless.

“I’m not feeling very well,” I lie. “I might just head home.”

“Oh.” He leans against the wall with one arm. “You still hungover?”

“I think so.”

“Okay. I’ll take you home.” He heads back upstairs to grab his keys.

I’m glad he doesn’t pressure me to hang out or ask me any questions, because I think I could break down at any moment. I fetch my backpack from his room and wait for him by the front door.

We barely talk on the drive to my house; I stare out the window at the houses rolling past and try to do anything except think of Mike Fuentes. Vic pulls up outside my house, not going up the driveway.

“You okay?” he says.

I nod. “Yeah, I think I need to go lie down.”

“I need to talk to you about something,” he says. “Something that happened the other night.”

I look at him warily, unsure where this is going. Any mention of Mike and I’ll certainly burst into tears and tell him everything.

“I, um, hooked up with someone at that party last week,” he says.

“Hey, good for you.” I already knew that, but it’s nice to finally hear it from him.

“Yeah, there’s more. And I’m really sorry that I haven’t told you before now, but … I just didn’t know how.” He takes a breath and looks out the window, then meets my gaze. “You have to promise not to get angry.”

“Why?” I ask cautiously.

“Because it’s Jane, and I promise, I didn’t even know at first, and—“

My brain struggles to make sense of the information. Vic … and Jane? It’s like he’s speaking a different language.

“You what?”

He stops and looks at me. “I’m really sorry, Mia.”

“How the fuck did you end up with Jane?”

“Um, she was at the party, and we were both really drunk, and—“

“Why would you do that to me?” I cut him off.

He laughs incredulously. “To you? You think I don’t know you’ve been fucking my brother behind my back this whole time?”

My stomach freezes. “What?”

“I’m not deaf and blind, Mia. I’ve been waiting for you to say something for weeks.”

I just stare at him, trying to think of something to say. Of course, part of me knew that he’d figured it out, what with all the hints he kept dropping. Not that it fucking matters now.

He waits for me to speak, and when I don’t, he continues. “You think I wouldn’t find out?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter anyway.” Tears spill down my face and I don’t bother wiping them away.

“I don’t care what you and Mike do, but it fucking hurts that you didn’t say anything. You’re meant to be my best friend, Mia, and I kept giving you opportunities to tell me, and you just kept it from me.”

His words are like a knife in my ribs. “It doesn’t matter now anyway,” I repeat bitterly, looking away. “Mike wants nothing to do with me.”

Vic lets out a short laugh. “Are you kidding? He’s crazy about you. He’s had a crush on you since I invited you to my birthday party in sixth grade.”

“Well, I’ve fucked that all up, haven’t I?”

“What are you talking about?”

I just shake my head, the tears dripping into my lap. He reaches for me but I slide closer to the door. “I’ve got to go.”

“Mia, wait.”

My heart feels like it can’t handle another let down. First Mike, now Jane and Vic … “I need a break.”

“What do you mean?”

My hand is already on the door handle. “From you, Mike, the band, everything.” I’m out the door before he can say anything.

I half expect him to get out and follow me, but he lets me leave. I get in the door and head straight up to my room, not checking to see whether Mama is home or not, each step intensifying the pain in my chest, feeling like my heart is trying to squeeze up through my throat. I drop onto the bed and finally let it out, open-mouth sobbing into the pillow.

I’d been worried about choosing between hurting Mike and hurting Vic—and ended up hurting everyone, including myself.

Notes

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