Crystal Garden - страница 3

He stopped and slowly turned around. I can still see his face with the look of despair, hopelessness and fear.

“I’m an addict, Walter.” His voice broke, then he turned and ran.

I ran after him, but soon fell behind. I didn’t really want to catch up with him. I wanted to wake up. I wanted this conversation to have never happened. I wanted last summer to have never happened too. I thought my world had collapsed. How wrong I was! My world would collapse a bit later.

For a while, everything was as before. Once again, we played “shooters” and “strategies” on the internet, we hung around and played football in the backyard. We barely spoke about his addiction. From time to time, Sunny would say he wanted to quit, but didn’t know where to start. He didn’t know whom to speak to or how to ask for help. He was afraid that if people at school found out, there would be a huge scandal. At best, he would be kicked out and sent to rehab, and this would be a disgrace to his whole family and to our school as well. His parents, as ill-luck would have it, were too busy with their own problems. Out of the blue, they decided that after 15 years of marriage, they were getting a divorce. In their minds, their son was now more or less grown up, and they wanted a second youth. So, Sunny felt almost alone in his fight, and I could not give him the support he needed. After all, I was only 15. I had no idea what to do. We just kept on pretending that nothing was wrong.

One day after school, Sunny came up to me. His cheeks were red, his eyes glistened, and his pupils were wildly dilated.

“Come with me,” he whispered. His voice was hoarse.

“Where to?” For some reason, I also spoke in a whisper.

“A dude is having a party.” He moved very close to me. “I want you to meet my friends.”

“Friends?” I said as I tried to step back from him. I didn’t like my personal space violated, even by him.

“You don’t know them,” he replied as he moved closer, “but they are awesome.”

I took another step back and felt the wall behind me. There was no escape. Sunny was waiting for an answer. His breath was heavy and hot, almost like he had a fever. I didn’t want to go with him, but I reluctantly agreed.

He took me to the other side of the town. He knew the area well and had no trouble finding his way along the streets lined with dozens of identical apartment buildings. We went into one of them and took the lift to the fifth floor. The corridors were bright and clean, with potted flowers on windowsills. This was not how I’d pictured a drug dealer’s hang-out to look. Sunny knocked on one of the doors. A moment later we heard hurried footsteps, and as the lock clicked, a guy appeared in the doorway. He was wearing jeans with a half-buttoned shirt, and his hair was a mess. In short, he looked like a completely ordinary teenager.

“Hey, duuude,” drawled the guy, smiling from ear to ear and patting Sunny on the shoulder.

“This is Walter,” Sunny said to introduce me.

The guy nodded and closed the door. Meanwhile, Sunny took off his jacket and walked into the living room. I hesitated a bit in the hallway. I looked at my reflection in the huge mirror that hung on the wall. I was regretting my decision to come here, and it was written on my face. My pupils we almost like Sunny’s, except I was not stoned.

The apartment clearly belonged to rich people. In the beautiful, expensively furnished living room were several teenagers. Two more guys and three girls. They were about my age and well-dressed. These were the sort of teens that would usually be referred to as “gilded youth”; children of rich parents who have everything but have no idea how to entertain themselves. Oh, Sunny, how did you get here? We did not belong in this circle. We weren’t bought expensive cars and apartments in the city for our birthdays.