Hot & Cold: Toxic Love Read online

  After she finished talking and drinking her water, Mrs. Jackson left. I've been sitting in a vehicle since six this morning. Needless to say, I'm exhausted. I know a tour and lecture is coming, so I grin and bear it. My things were lined up in the foyer. I know I have to lug them to my room, wherever that is.

  "So, Hayden. Where are you from?" Janie asks.

  "Central Florida, actually. It was a very long drive." I was hoping she'd notice my hints.

  "Wow, okay. Well, let me give you a quick tour. I know it seems like a big place, but it's really not. You'll get the full details when Ms. Gar returns on Monday," Apparently she didn't recognize my annoyance with not being able to rest. "There are four floors. The bottom floor has the two sitting areas, dining area, gym, laundry room, a public restroom, and it's where Ms. Gar lives too. The infants to ten-year-olds stay, in the far back; in one large room. They are usually the first ones to be adopted. The second floor has seven rooms where the eleven to fifteen-year-olds are housed, with two shower rooms. Each room has a small half bath with a toilet and sink, and our floor is the third floor. It has four rooms, and only one large shower room when you’re finished with your laundry, stick it in the laundry chute beside the shower room. We take turns doing laundry every night except for Ward; he doesn't do anything," She said breathlessly as we trudged up the stairs to our rooms.

  "That's not so bad," I say as I try and catch my breath.

  "No, I told you it's not that big. The fourth floor is mostly storage and it's where the groundskeeper stays, but he has a different entrance." we're at the top of the third floor. "There are five of us in our age group. Jessica and Hanna share a room beside where we are, by the way, we're roommates," She stops and smiles at me warmly, "the shower room separates us from the boys' room. There's only one boy and that's Edward, we just call him Ward. As you can see, there are no doors on any of the rooms, so if you want to change, you have to go into the bathroom or shower room. Ms. Gar thinks that's a safety issue." Kind of creepy, but okay.

  "Where is everyone?" I ask when I finally catch my breath.

  "Well, Jessica and Hanna are at softball practice, Ward and Ms. Gar are in Tallahassee. Apparently, Ward ran into a little trouble, and she's there to get him out of it, as usual." She says as we enter the threshold of the room that will be ours. "This is our room. I'm so glad I have a roomie again," She said with her shoulders to her ears and her head tilted. She seems so sweet. "We'll get your stuff in and we can decorate!" too sweet.

  "Okay," I say, staring at the empty side of the quite large room.

  "My last roommate became emancipated and she left about two months ago. She was a handful, but you have some pretty big shoes to fill, mama." I'm not quite sure I like this honesty.

  "Oh, okay," I say quietly.

  "You don't say very much, do you?" She says quite blatantly, as I stare down at my flip flops. I don't know why I want to cry, but I do. "Don't worry, you don't have to be shy," she says while putting a hand on my crossed arms. "Listen, I know this is hard baby doll, but you're in very good hands. I know you're upset about things, and the adoption statistics for our age group are grim, trust me I know. I've been in the foster system my whole life," she makes a face like there's something she shouldn't have said. "Forget I said that, but don't worry about a thing, okay? You'll be just fine." At that, she wraps her arms around me and hugs me. I start to sob. I'm sobbing on a perfect stranger, but I don't care. She starts to rock and say, "shh" But that just brings more tears. When the whole thirty-second meltdown is over, she pulls away from me and pats my shoulders. I pull the long strands that have found their way out of my messy bun off of my damp cheeks. She pulls the remaining strands away, and says, "There, sometimes all you really need is a good cry. C'mon, let's go get your things." she ushers me out of the room.

  It takes three trips to lug everything up. My plastic tote was the only thing left to bring up. "Good God, Hayden. Are all of these clothes?" She asks as she opens a suitcase." She pulls out a pair of pants, "Oh, these are cute darlin', you know I'm going to borrow these," She says with a smile.

  I laugh with a big smile. "I don't mind," I say. I really don't. I used to share clothes with my best friends all the time. I think that's how I've acquired so much. Our beds are side by side with two night stands in the middle. Her side of the room is very pink, frilly, and girly. All of my stuff is country looking. I take out a plain white comforter set, with quilted pink patches that run along the bottom.

  "You are so country," She says as she pulls her pants down, unashamed, and slipped into my pants. They do look quite nice on her. "I think the ends are a tad short, but that's okay. Nothing like some boots can't fix." She's right, they are short on her, the intentional rips on the thighs are far closer north than they are supposed to be. I just smirked and continued to make the bed.

  The closet is massive. It takes up the wall from the door frame to the other side of the wall. There are two dressers shoved in them, with shelves and rods atop them. I hang my sundresses on the top rods, and fold my thirteen pairs of jeans and lay them neatly stacked on the racks. My boots, flip flops, and sneakers are aligned neatly under the dresser.

  I turn around to see Janie examining a picture of me and my mother out of the tote. "That's my mom," I say as I stride towards her.

  "She's beautiful," She says quietly without looking up. At that moment I know in my heart it's what she's always wanted. A mother. A family. I don't mean to feel guilty that I've had, and experienced it. I don't know what to say that won't make me sound like a jerk for saying it. I don't see how she can be as bubbly as she is. I don't know how that can't make a person so cold and dead inside. Friends come and go, being adopted and loved before you. "What happened, if you don't mind me asking?" she asked, breaking my chain of thought.

  I take a deep breath, and say, "Suicide," I swallowed hard and those words still do not taste good. "After my father died over a year ago, she became very depressed." I look down, and cross my hands behind my back, "She died a year to the day my father passed. He died on a tour in the military," I say. She sets the picture upright next to my bed on the nightstand and smiles at it. I would love to ask her about where she came from, and about her life. But I don't want to spoil anything. This is a mutual bonding moment for the one friend I have at the moment. She smiles at me and walks toward the hall.

  "You must be starved. We'll go make something." She says as I nod yes heavily.

  "It's so quiet."

  "Well, there are no infants here. The bottom floor is completely empty. Like I said, they're the first to be adopted. There is one boy who is five. He's disabled, so he stays with Ms. Gar all the time. There are two eleven-year-olds on the second floor," She says, "They're so fucking annoying." I'm shocked to hear this come from her, which I make known by a look. "I should warn you, I have a mouth like a sailor." This shocks me.

  "Can I ask you a question?" I ask.

  "Shoot."

  "Do- uh- Do you smoke?" I say nervously.

  "I haven't had a cigarette all day. I'm so glad you asked me that. I didn't want to come off as disgusting because it's considered disgusting now if someone smokes. Like, whatever," I am quite relieved to hear this answer. I pull out a pack of Smokes from my jeans.

  "Where?" I ask. My body is itching for the sweet sting of nicotine. She points to the kitchen. The kitchen is almost completely white. It's quite large with counters and cabinets all around the perimeter of the room. A large island counter commands the center of the room, surrounded by black bar stools. There's a door that leads to an outside area. The crickets are chirping as the screen door slams behind us.

  "Don't ever let Ms. Gar see you smoke. She will flip the fuck out," she says with wide eyes. She pulls out a pack and a lighter from her bra. I click the lighter. The yellow and orange energy dances on the mouth of the cigarette. I puff in and immediately feel the sweet high of the nicotine. It makes me giddy and dizzy. She looks at me and smiles, "I am so glad you're a smoker t
oo."

  "Yeah," I say, "We should travel in packs. We're close to becoming extinct." The puff she just breathed in came swiftly out in clouds of laughter.

  We both start to giggle as I hear a bang from the inside, followed by an "Oooh! I'm telling." A female voice sing-songs from behind the screen door. A red headed girl covered in freckles emerges from the dark room, and into the outside floodlight.

  "It's just Jessica. Jesus, Jessica you scared the fucking shit out of me!" Janie says, "You almost made me throw and waste a perfectly good cigarette. Look, I would've thrown it in that freaking puddle!" She says still laughing. She steps down the last stairs and puts out her hand to Janie. "You still can't buy your own smokes?"

  "Well, I would," Jessica says with a jovial raspy voice, "But I haven't seen my dealer." She says as she winks at me. "Hi, I'm Jessica. You must be Hayden."

  "Hi," I say with a big smile.

  "Did this beast lead you down the wrong path and shove a butt down your throat too?" She says.

  I laugh and say, "No, I've been smoking for about a year now. Another beast has gotten to me first."

  She giggles as she says, "She's just precious. Where'd they find this one? The Deep South, I imagine; with that accent." I smile.

  "Central Florida," Janie says, stealing the words from my mouth. They both smile at me. I feel a tad bit uncomfortable. I don't like when girls size me up. It's creepy and intimidating. "Where's the party pooper?" Janie asks.

  "She went to bed," Jessica said. I'm assuming they're talking about Hannah.

  "It's early," Janie said.

  "It's nearly ten!" Jessica proclaimed.

  "Really? I guess we just had a very busy day. She came about ten thirty this morning," She said as a yawn completed her story. We took turns yawning. I flicked the cigarette in the puddle, as did the other girls.

  Sleep comes easy for me. I set up my clock, and set the alarm for eight. My dreams have been strange lately. This dream featured brown shiny hair, just blowing in the wind. I'm not sure who it belongs to.

  I woke to some yelling downstairs. I look at the clock displaying four o'clock in green neon letters. I momentarily forgot where I was, and realized Janie wasn't in bed. I wiped the sleep from my eyes and shuffled to the doorway. Taking the hairband from my wrist, I wrap my hair up as I reach the banister. From the banister, I can see the second-floor landing. I take the stairs to the second floor, and see Janie in her pink pajamas yelling at someone I can't see. I inch closer and realize there's a man in a red plaid shirt and black jeans. He has black hair and was strongly built. Beside him, an older woman was holding a toddler.

  "Jesus Christ, Edward!" Janie says, "Do you not care about anyone but your damn self?"

  "Watch your mouth, Janie," The older lady says calmly.

  "Sorry ma'am," She says still angry, "He just doesn't care about anyone or anything. He doesn't deserve your kindness."

  "Screw you, Janie," he says with a booming deep voice, "I don't need you telling lies and spreading rumors! This is bullshit!" He storms off and heads straight for me at the top of the landing. "Who the fuck are you? You come to see the show too?" He startles me as he pushes past. "Put some fucking clothes on! Jesus Christ." I immediately cross my arms, as my jaw lay slightly ajar. What just happened?

  Janie sees me through the darkness of the hallway I've backed up into. "Hey, darlin'," She says, "Sorry you had to hear and see all of that." I slowly step down the creaky stairs. I'm sorry too. She takes the child from the older lady and walks into the other room behind the staircase.

  "Hello, Hayden," The beaten down older lady says, "I'm Dorothy Gar. I wasn't expecting to be back until Monday, but they've released him early. Forgive me for not being here as you arrived," I nod my head, still a bit taken back from what just happened. I take in the sight of the woman. She is tiny and frail. Her face looks to be about sixty. She's wearing a long flowery dress with mid-length sleeves with a jean jacket over with no sleeves. Her short gray hair is wild and a bit untamed. It might be the late hour.

  "Let me help you with your bags," I say reaching for her suitcase and another carpet-type bag.

  "Bless you, child." She says as she walks into the area where Janie went. The red wooden door opened up into a long bedroom. I set the bags down beside the small bed. Janie sets the gate up on the large crib beside her. She turns on a fan in the corner of the room and says goodnight to Ms. Gar. I follow her.

  "What was that?" I ask when we're outside the kitchen door.

  "I received a text message from Ward saying they were outside and needed help unloading." She said as she took a puff. "He acted like he didn't give a shit what happened, or what he puts that poor lady through."

  "What did he do?" I ask timidly. I was afraid she might say that it wasn't my business because I felt like it wasn't. But my curiosity got the best of me.

  "Assault, and possession of alcohol by a minor," she says, "He snuck out one night and went to a house party in Tallahassee. Got into a fight, as usual. Cops came. Then he got arrested."

  "Oh," I say. I wonder why he was so angry. I wonder why he told me to put clothes on. I guess a tank top and pajama bottoms aren't "cloth-y" enough for him.

  After a snack, we trudged up the stairs. Walking up the second set of stairs made me nervous. I don't think I want to cross his path anytime soon. He obviously has serious anger issues.

  As we reached the top of the landing, he came out of the shower room. With no shirt on, a toothbrush in his mouth, he heads to his room. I have become a bit anxious and nervous. I walk as close to Janie and the banister as I can, avoiding eye contact. I have half a mind to tell him to put some clothes on.

  I'm nestled into my bed, but I no longer feel safe. I decide to turn my alarm off, and just wake up when everyone else does.

  The next morning, I wake up to a pillow in my face. I usually don't sleep on my stomach, but I must have slept a little rough last night. I flipped over and noticed Janie was up, and her bed was made. She was nowhere to be found.

  I decided to take a shower and put myself together. I pull a few things out of the closet and peek out the doorway. Left, clear. Right, clear. I'm still on edge from early this morning. Obviously.

  The shower is warm and inviting. I made doubly sure no one would come in. One shower room for both genders? I'm not sure if I feel entirely comfortable with this. The shower room is lined with white, blue, and gray tile from floor to ceiling. On the left are four large wooden stalls with a shower head peeking from the top. On the right are two large sinks, with an entire wall of mirrors behind them. On each side of the sinks are sitting areas.

  I dress in the large stall. There is a sitting area under the shower head. I slip on my lime green polo shirt and dark denim jeans. My boots slip right over my jeans. I walk out of the shower room with my towel around my neck, and other things in my arm. I pulled the heavy white door open. I was taken aback by a large man walking past me toward the stairs. I just looked down and pushed my clothes into the chute.

  When I turn around, he is at the top of the stairs, just staring at me. As soon as I made wide-eyed eye contact with him, he shakes his head and bounces down each stair. What was that all about?

  I watch him hit the second landing and look up at me when I pass the banister, not stopping. I have this uneasy feeling in my stomach. I'm not sure what to think of this situation.

  I French braided my hair on one side, and let it flow to the other side, where I braided it down. My mother used to do this for me, and it was always difficult for me.

  I go downstairs and find Janie, Jessica, and some blonde girl, whom I assume is Hannah, sitting in the room to the left of the foyer. They look up at me from their magazines.

  "Good morning, sunshine," Jessica smiled up at me.

  "Hey," I say.

  "Ms. Gar is still sleeping. Poor thing is exhausted," Janie said.

  "Oh," I say simply.

  "She was going to give you another tour today, and tell you all of th
e rules and stuff, but she went back to bed at eight this morning," Janie said, "She said to tell you she gives you her deepest apologies. She's just tired over what happened this morning, and from the last few days," she takes a few chips from a bag and stuffed them into her mouth, "We have the weekend to ourselves. It'll give you some time to relax and get comfortable with us," she says between chews.

  "So, thank you darlin'," the blonde girl says while shoving some gummy bears into her mouth. Her round face curls perfectly along her blonde hairline. "I'm Hannah, by the way," She says without looking up. Her short hair bounces on shoulders that are hiked up to her earlobes. Her chunky legs are pulled to the side of her.

  "Hayden," I say holding up my hand; a halfhearted way to wave.

  "So girls, what do you want to do today?" Janie says. I lean up against the iron archway and listen to the interesting conversation. The girls all shrug at the same time. The red and white swirly chairs they're lounging in look very fluffy and comfortable. There are only three of those chairs. Behind them, in the darkness, stands a huge marble fireplace adorned in pictures. The room would be lighter if the heavy drapes were pulled back. It looks like this place was designed by a Victorian housewife.

  "Oh, my Lanta!" Jessica proclaims with a forced country accent while turning the magazine she's looking at an angle, "Look at these freakin' boobs!"

  "Let me see that," Janie says as she reaches over and snatches the magazine from Jessica's hands, "Jesus! Those are freakin' huge! I wish I had boobs like that." This forces all three of us to look at Janie's chest. This sparked a new conversation; which one of them have the nicest boobs. I roll my eyes and quietly giggle, watching them fight over themselves.

  "I think the new girl has got all of y’all beat," a booming voice comes from behind me. It took me a minute to realize he was talking about me. He walks past me, in between the girls, and towards the back of the room. When he does, Jessica throws a pillow at him.

  "Shut up, Ward! Leave the poor girl alone," She winks at me.