Saved By Steven (the first story)

6. Going down

Mick found Lauren curled up on the cold tile floor of the school bathroom, her arms wrapped around her knees, head resting against the wall.
"Honey, come on. We have to go," he said gently, kneeling beside her.
She stirred, eyes glassy and unfocused.
"No, we don't. I could just stay here. It's quiet."
"No, sweetheart. You can't stay here. You're coming with me. I'll take you home."
"I don't want to go home."
"You want to crash at my place?
"She nodded slowly, like her body wasn't sure whether to agree or fall asleep again. Then her head drooped forward.
"Shit. Darling, come on," Mick said, gently tapping her cheek. "You can sleep in the car."
Lauren blinked herself back to the surface. Her eyes filled with tears, but she nodded again."I know," she whispered. "Let's go."

Outside, Mick helped her into the passenger seat of his car. She sagged against the door, shivering slightly in the warm air.
"Sammy!" Mick called out to one of the older students hanging by the entrance.
The boy jogged over.
"Hey, what's up?"
"Would you mind watching her for a minute? I need to grab someone else."
Sam glanced at Lauren and saw the dazed look on her face.
"Yeah, sure. Is she okay?"
"She just had a rough few days," Mick said. "Thanks, man."

Sam crouched beside Lauren, who looked at him with heavy-lidded eyes.
"You're handsome," she said, her voice low and wobbly.
Sam smiled awkwardly. "Thank you. You're not ugly yourself."
Lauren shook her head, more to herself than him.
"No, I'm not pretty. People leave me. I wouldn't live with me either."
"Come on," Sam said softly. "Mick thinks the world of you. You know that, right?"
She blinked, studying him through damp lashes. Then she smiled.
"You're like him. Calm. Big. Sweet. Comfy."
Sam chuckled. "Well, I'll take that as a compliment."

They sat in silence for a few minutes until Mick returned, guiding a half-conscious Tom by the arm. Tom looked pale, sweat beading along his forehead.
"He okay?" Sam asked, standing up.
"He enjoyed the party a bit too much. Thanks again."
"No worries. She rambled a bit. I tried to keep her talking."
"You did good." Mick paused. "Actually, would you mind riding with us? Help me get them back to my place?"
"Sure. Let's do it."


The drive took nearly half an hour. Mick kept one hand on the wheel, the other occasionally adjusting the heat or checking the rearview mirror. Tom was already out cold in the back seat. Sam sat beside him, while Lauren shifted in the front, legs curled up beneath her, arms hugging her bag.

Twenty minutes in, Lauren stirred.
"Mick?"
"Yeah, darling?"
"Could you stop the car?"
"Why? We're almost there."
"I don't think I can make it."
Sam leaned forward. "Sir, I think she means it."

Mick pulled over just in time. Sam jumped out and opened her door.
"Come on," he said, helping her out. Lauren barely made it to the side of the road before throwing up in the grass. She gagged again and collapsed to her knees.
"It's okay. Let it out," Sam said, holding her steady, brushing her hair back from her face.
After a few minutes of dry heaving and silence, she slumped into Sam's arms, trembling hard.

"You good to stand?" he asked gently. She shook her head, eyes closed.
Sam picked her up without another word and carried her to the car. Mick had already moved Tom into the front. Lauren curled into Sam's arms in the backseat but kept her face turned away. Her body twitched every now and then from a chill running down her spine. The last stretch of the drive was quiet except for the hum of the road.

Then Lauren's voice came again, thin and slurred.
"Don't touch me." Sam pulled his hands back. "I wasn't."
She shrank against the door.
"Lauren?" Mick called softly from the driver's seat. "You okay?"
"I'm fine," she whispered, barely audible.

They pulled into the long gravel driveway of Mick's estate. The headlights lit up the wide steps and arched doorway. Mick parked near the entrance and got out.
"Let's go," Sam said as he opened the door for Lauren.
She hesitated. Her hands were shaking again.
"I need my bag."
"Sure."
Sam handed it to her.

Without speaking, Lauren reached inside, pulled out a small vial, and snorted the last of its contents with the ease of someone who's done it many times before.
"Shit," Sam muttered under his breath.
"I'm ready," she said calmly, and leaned into him for support as they walked up the steps. Tom stumbled behind, barely coherent.

Inside, Mick directed them to a large, soft living room.
"Just set them down anywhere."
Tom collapsed onto the biggest couch and pulled a blanket over himself without a word. Lauren found the smaller couch, curled up beside Sam, and rested her head on his chest.
"My stomach hurts," she murmured.
"Shh. Just rest," Sam whispered, watching her eyes close.

Mick came over and draped another blanket over her. Then he placed one of his oversized shirts nearby.
"She'll want this later."
"Thanks," Sam said. "You think they'll be okay?"
"They will. After they sleep it off."
Sam stood and stretched. "You need help with anything else?"
"No. You've done enough already. Let me get someone to drive you home."
"Thanks.

After Sam left, Mick turned off the lights and stood for a moment in the quiet. Both Tom and Lauren were out cold. The high was gone. Now came the low. The shakes. The silence. The things they'd remember in pieces.

Mick rubbed his face, sighed deeply, and finally climbed the stairs. He had an early morning ahead of him. The band for the New Year's party was arriving. And the two people asleep downstairs—he didn't know what they'd be like when they woke up.

But at least they were safe. For now.