Sophomore Year

8. Put Down

WARNING: This chapter contains sexual activity, drug use, and alcohol use is brought up as well.

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The Friday I got out of the hospital, I had rehearsal for the school musical. Still in my pajama pants and shirt, my dad took me to rehearsal.
"You're going to rehearsal looking like that?" He asked. "You look homeless."
I rolled my eyes avoiding his comment.

I got to school, and it was lunch break for everyone who showed up. I walked around school looking for Hadley, but she had gotten lunch. Walking down the 200 hall, Hadley stopped as she saw me.
"Lindsay?" She asked.
"Hey."
"My mom took my phone over break, so I was unable to talk to you," she said.
"Oh, it's okay. I wouldn't have been able to respond anyway."
She gave me a confused look, and I raised my left arm where the hospital bracelet was.

"I was worried you were going to do something. If you did something, and I didn't know, I was not going to be happy," Hadley explained. "What happened?"

I told Hadley everything about what had happened, and I told her about the day Mrs. Gibson took me to the hospital too. She and I began to walk towards the track while we talked. To avoid the people down there, we turned around to go back towards the school. As we reached the outside steps Dr. Dunn stopped us.
"Hi, Hadley," she said. "Are you good friends with Lindsay?"
"Yes ma'am," Hadley said.
"Good. Lindsay needs some good people right now." Dr. Dunn smiled and drove off.

We walked to the auditorium and sat beside Mrs. Nicholson. Mrs. Nicholson was one of those teachers that allowed their students to be themselves without any judgement.
"Where'd you get that nice bracelet, Lindsay?" She asked.
"Oh, um," I giggled nervously. "The hospital."
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah. Kinda. Actually, no. I shouldn't have left today, but they sent me home anyway."
"Be a walk-in. Go back yourself," she said.
"I can't do that. My dad thinks I'm okay already when we all know I'm not. I attempted to kill myself in a facility last night, and they still believed I was ready to go home," I explained.
Mrs. Nicholson had a look on her face that showed she was worried. "I am here if you need to talk." I thanked her as we started to pay attention to rehearsal.

The rest of the weekend wasn't any good. I spent most of Saturday with my oldest sister, Selena. She and I painted most of the time, and eventually we went to her boyfriend's mom's house. I talked to my sister about how I felt at my dad's, and she was going to keep me that night. Her boyfriend's name was Jackson. He was a nice and fun guy. His mom was one that didn't care what the kid did at her house as long as the kid didn't let anyone know it was done there. My sister's friend, Blake, asked if I've smoked weed before.
"Once or twice," I said. "Why?"
"I don't believe you," he laughed.
"Lindsay has done it before. Don't test her she'll prove anyone wrong," Selena said. I looked at her wide eyed.
"Okay, then smoke a blunt, Lindsay," said Blake. I looked at him not saying anything.
"Oh, okay. You don't smoke."

Out of impulse, I got the gram from my sister and rolled myself a blunt. I smoked the blunt, and Blake stared at me in surprise. "I was wrong," he said.
"Do you drink?" He asked. I shook my head no and sat down because I was high enough and I was dizzy. My sister was in her twenties and so were friends. Blake was unaware that I was only sixteen, and I was unaware that he was twenty. He looked at least two years younger. Most people would assume I was at least eighteen or twenty. Selena and Jackson went outside, and Blake and I were left sitting in Jackson's spare bedroom.
"You don't drink, but you smoke. Hmm," Blake said. I didn't say anything as I went to lie down. Blake helped me up because the bed was high up off of the ground. After about ten minutes, Blake came to the bed too.

"You know, you're a really cool girl Lindsay," said Blake.
"Uh, thank you. You're a cool guy I guess."
"You guess?" He asked as he giggled. In the moment of me being high, I started to realize how adorable his giggle was.
"You have a cute giggle for a guy too," I said.
"What?" He asked. "I do not!" Silence filled the room as we began to stare into each other's eyes.
"Are you into black guys?" He asked.
"Skin color doesn't matter," I said. "Why?"
He didn't say anything, but he got up and rolled another blunt for us two. I wasn't wanting to, but he peer pressured me into smoking again. It felt good in the moment. I just got out of a hospital. Being high made me feel good and happy.

I smoked half while Blake smoked the rest. Blake stared at me, and when I caught him, I laughed. We stared at one another for what felt like five minutes. Blake leaned towards me and kissed me. To my surprise, I was okay with it. I didn't want guys touching me at all. I kissed Blake back, and he pulled me close to him. For a short amount of time we spent kissing one another, or what people nowadays would call "making out". By this time, I was higher than I was earlier and I was feeling great. Blake placed himself on top of me while he continued to kiss me more going down my neck and along my chest.
"Are you okay?" He asked. I smiled as he asked because the few guys just did what they were doing.
"Yeah, I'm fine."

For awhile, he spent kissing my neck, chest, stomach, and shoulders. I was somehow not bothered by his touch at all. Blake removed himself and asked me to lay on him. I did, and we continued with our session. Blake ran his hands down my back to my thighs. It felt right. He stopped and stared at me and to the door. He stood up and got off the bed. Confused I said, "I'm sorry." He looked at me and mouthed,
"you didn't do anything."

He came back to the side of the bed placing himself in between my legs and we started where we left off. Blake had his hands on my waist and worked his way to get my shirt off. I raised my arms to get it off, and Blake climbed onto me. He started to put his hands down my shorts and I stopped him.

"What's wrong?" He asked.
"I don't have the best experience when guys go that way." Embarrassed of what I just said, I looked away.
"Hey, you're safe here with me." I smiled as he started to slide my shorts off. Blake took his shirt and his pants off as well. While he kissed my neck again, I began to think. Blake is friends with my sister. I widen my eyes and I become stiff. "What's up?" Blake asked.
"How old are you?"
He smiled and shook his head, " I'm twenty." I put my hands on my face.
"H-how old are you?" My face turned red out of embarrassment.
"It's okay!" He exclaimed. "I'm still enjoying our time together; no one has to know." I thought about it, and I was alright with it. "I'm sixteen." He grinned and we went on. Once again, I started to think. Do I really want to lose it? I lost it in a way I didn't want to recently, so I didn't count that as losing my virginity. "I'm sorry, Blake, but I really can't do this." Without questioning me, he respectfully stopped.

I got home late. My dad spent the rest of the time yelling at me because he thought I was avoiding them. My dad's girlfriend speaks Spanish, and I can't communicate well with her. It's awkward for me because my dad doesn't say much to me. Just his girlfriend. Being at my dad's isn't much of a fantastic experience for me. Around family, you're suppose to be able to be yourself, but at my dad's, I didn't feel as if I could do that. I felt left out, unwanted, and a bother. My dad didn't understand. They were welcoming, yes, but I felt unwanted. It is a person's feeling that you shouldn't make out to be invalid.

My dad and I have tried to get me to open up to him, but we tried at least once or twice. Never again. He asked me to explain how I feel about moving schools.
"I want to stay at DLHS because I know people there. I'm comfortable with people there. I'm also going through a lot that some friends are aware of, and if needed, I could go to them. I can't do that at the new school. I can't trust people that fast," I explained. My dad mainly criticized me and made my feelings seem invalid. "Ah, so you're being selfish," he said.
"What? No, I explained how I feel like you said."
"Yes, but you're being selfish and manipulative, Lindsay."
"You can leave the room if you are just going to put me down for explaining how I feel," I said.
"I'm stating facts, Lindsay," he said as he got at least three inches away from my face. He left and I cried. The rest of the night I spent in my room. I didn't have to move schools again, so that was good for me.