For Allison

I sat back against the wall and counted the little jade squares under my bare feet. Eight and a half tiles long, four wide. Their coolness was soothing.
Two girls from down the hall wandered into the bathroom.
“Thank God Friday is over,” said a voice I recognized as Andrea, accompanied by thin ankles and fuzzy pink slippers.
“Seriously. Brian and I are going to the beach tomorrow. It’ll be cold, but gosh I miss the sand,” answered a pair of Family Guy slippers with Stewie’s football-shaped head wobbling precariously on the toes.
They switched the radio from classic rock through the murky land of static to “Starfish – K 102.7” and No Doubt’s whining keen filled the room.
“Haw laung ha’e you an’ Brian been going ou’?” asked Andrea through her toothbrush.
“Two months,” replied the other girl, whose name continued to escape me. It started with an S.
I heard her slap water onto her face and then the paper towel dispenser banged up and down a couple times. They didn’t interrupt Gwen until Andrea said “Goodnight” and S---- said, “Yeah have a great night!” Soon she too had gone.
Time to go.
I got up, unlocked the bolt and stepped out of the handicapped stall. In the hall, I turned right and stooped over the water fountain, careful not to touch the spout with my lips. Like avoiding cracks in sidewalks, it’s a kindergarten habit turned life-ethic. The icy water swished around my mouth; I kept it there for a moment then let it slide down my esophagus. It hurt my teeth and I walked back to my room. I avoided the mirror as I slipped into my XL “Led Zeppelin” t-shirt. I turned on my desk lamp, turned off the florescent and crawled onto the top bunk.

I was surprised to find myself awake two hours later when my roommate returned from work. I kept my eyelids half closed and watched her tiptoe around the room. Bree is one of those girls that even girls can’t help but like. Her waist-length ponytail reflects light in varying shades of red and gold. She’s tall and slender and looks like a ballerina even those she’s never had a dance class in her life.
She spilled her bath caddy with a crash. I stretched and groaned.
“Sorry, Case, it’s just me. Go back to sleep.”
“How was work?” I asked.
“Good. While training a hostess, I dropped a tray. It seems I’m irresistibly klutzy tonight.”
I smiled. My roommate not only fell down stairs, but up them as well. “Just tonight, huh?”
“Ha, ha. Oh! Josh and I are going to a movie tomorrow night, wanna come?”
I briefly relived the last time I’d gone to see a movie with them. Leaning as far into the left arm rest. Staring resolutely at the screen, tempted to erect a concrete wall between me and the sucking noises.
“No thanks. This third wheel needs to study for a bio-chemistry quiz at six-bloody-early-in the morning Monday.”
“Oh c’mon. You’re not a third wheel! Josh and I love hanging out with you. And it’s Saturday! You have all day Sunday to study—you can spare 90 minutes.”
I grunted an I’ll-think-about-it and turned to face the wall.
“Goodnight, Casey.”
“Night.”
#
I don’t set my alarm on Saturdays. Getting up before noon is like violating the Sabbath. So I cursed Bree with death by stampeding Dromedary camels when her cell phone started ringing at 8:30 in the morning. Interestingly, Bree managed to sleep through the increasingly noisy fairy chimes until I yanked Mr. Teddy from under my stomach and threw him at her face.
“Bree, answer your phone!”
She rolled over and grabbed the cell phone.
“Hello?” she growled. She sat up. “What?” A long pause and then, “Is she okay? …yeah, I’ll be right there.”
She rolled out of bed and started pulling on sweats.
“Hey, Casey. My little sister’s in the hospital. I’m gonna drive home. I’ll try calling Josh, but if you see him, let him know I can’t make the movie.”
“Sure thing. Is she alright?”
“They don’t know… She didn’t wake up this morning. She still hasn’t woken up. I’ll call you.”
With that, she grabbed her Kate Spade and keys and rushed out the door.
“Please let Allison be okay,” I whispered at the ceiling and then went back to sleep.
#
I made it to the Cafeteria just before they closed for lunch. I was starving and filled up a tray with soup and French fries and a muffin and chicken and… salad. It was a lot, but I hadn’t eaten breakfast. And I’d eat less at dinner.
Josh came up as I was sitting down, and asked about Bree.
“Did she call you?” I asked.
“Yeah, she left a cryptic message on my phone about her sister being in the hospital.”
“That’s all I’ve heard, too. Sorry.”
He seemed distracted and I asked if he wanted to sit down.
“No thanks, I’ve got baseball practice in 10 minutes and I have to run back to the dorm. If you hear from her, you’ll let me know?”
“Definitely.”
#
I finished up with a brownie and some soft serve, then went back to my room to study. Not long after staring at small diagrams of mitochondrion, I started to feel kinda nauseous. Why in the world did I eat so much at lunch?
Oh gosh.
I dropped the book and walked to the bathroom. Like one at the guillotine, I knelt before the toilet. I watched my reflection flicker in the bowl. I gagged and then…
I flushed the toilet.
Back at the room, I noticed a missed call. Bree’s number. I called her back.
“Hello?” she answered.
“Hey Bree, it’s me. How’s Allison?”
“She’s awake. Mom found an empty prescription bottle under her bed and they pumped her stomach. She says her throat is sore and the doctors have asked us not to question her too much yet.”
“Had she mentioned this… ‘desire’ to anyone before?” I sat down on the sofa, directly opposite Bree’s full-length mirror.
“No. Her friends had said she’d been acting weird lately, but nothing that couldn’t have been explained by ‘that time of the month.’”
“Yeah,” I answered, and pulled my bangs out of my eyes. “It’s hard to talk about sometimes.”
There was a pause and I thought I heard a sob.
“Bree, are you alright?”
“Yeah,” she replied.
“Liar. What’s up? Talk to me.”
“It’s just… I don’t know. She’s my little sister! Good lord, what if she had succeeded? We’ve been so close all growing up and since I came to school I haven’t even had time to send her a weekly email. I feel like it’s my fault.”
“Stop it. Allison had issues she had to deal with, and instead of asking for help, she decided to cop-out.”
My reflection looked at me pointedly.
“Yeah, but we should’ve asked. She didn’t just cop--”
“Hey! She’s seventeen, Bree. And she’s safe. I’m sure your parents will encourage her to get some therapy. Maybe now she’ll be more open about what she’s struggling with.”
“I hope so.”
“Have you called Josh?”
“Not yet.”
“You should; he was worried.”
“Yeah. I should be home tonight. I might be late, so don’t stay up on my account.”
“I never do,” I smiled and hung up. My hand stayed on the receiver for second.
I stood up and stared at the mirror. A Clint Eastwood soundtrack played in my head and my fingers itched for a six-shooter. Too bad tumbleweeds don’t grow in suburbia. I turned to close the blinds and locked the door. I stripped down, continuing to stare down my arch-enemy. I had never volitionally stared at myself naked before. I turned to the left, and then the right. I nodded and pulled the clothes back on. Up went the blinds and I opened the door.