Zacky opened the door for me a block away from Jimmy's house. We tried to forget about what happened at his house, but I could tell by the way he looked at me that he was still mad. I did ruin his couch, camera, basically stole his memory, fucked him (again), and now was ignoring him.

And then, I had also flipped out. He had seen the bad side of me, the one I had chained down with those drugs in the first place. Did I really not know how affected I was by the drugs? And what had happened to them? That was the one thing I couldn't explain from last night.

I shook my head and hopped out, giving Zacky a hug before walking to the house. As I pushed on the front gate, I tried to come up with an excuse for my absence last night. But after walking inside, I realized that Jimmy wasn't there. I threw my clothes into the washer, and walked into the bathroom to start a shower. After washing myself, I got out, dried off, and went to get dressed.

Too restless to watch t.v., I left to go on a walk. My feet took me to the beach behind the house, and I sat on the sand to stare at the ocean. It had been a long time since I'd gone swimming. Speaking of swimming, I also had not had a single nightmare since Jimmy and I fucked. How strange...

Suddenly, I felt hands on my shoulder and I whipped around in fear.

"Oh, it's you. What's up Matt?" Matt sat down next to me and shot me a smile.

"Nothin’ much. I came to pick Jimmy up, but he wasn't here. We're supposed to go the studio today and record some tracks." I nodded and turned back to the setting sun.

Matt stared with me until he asked; "Aren't you leaving for your parents house in a few days?"

"Yes, in two days. I'm happy to go back, to be able to take a break. So much stuff has been happening, it's all-" The song Girlfriend by Avril Lavigne cut me off and Matt quickly pulled out his phone. I gave him a strange look and his face turned red. He mouthed Brian, then rolled his eyes and spoke into the receiver.

“Matt speaking, who’s this?” I leaned towards him so I could hear.

“Hey Matt, its Alicia. Where is Zacky right now?” Despite the fact that the voice sounded urgent, Matt chuckled.

“You’re lookin’ for Zacky? What, do you have the hots for him?”

“No,” I leaned a little bit closer, “The police are looking for him.” My mouth gaped and Matt pressed the phone closer to his ear, like he didn’t hear right.

“No fucking way. Why the hell is the fuzz after Zacky? Alicia, what’s going on?”

“Look, I don’t have much time to explain, but I’ll tell you this; someone was brought in on a drug charge and they claimed they bought it from Zacky and some girl that was with him.” Matt leaped to his feet, and walked back towards the street, giving me the ‘wait there’ sign.

Zacky was a criminal, in trouble for dealing drugs? That couldn’t be possible, I mean, it just wasn’t possible. Unless...

“Oh my fucking God!” I jumped up and ran across the beach, passing Matt. I heard him yell my name, but I kept running. That was what happened to the drugs. Last night, Zacky and I must have sold all of it, and then one of our buyers got caught. It made perfect sense, especially with what that girl, Alicia, told Matt.

I stopped right outside the front gate to Jimmy’s house and yanked my phone out of my pocket, then dialed Zacky’s number.

“Wassup, who’s this?”

“Zacky, we have a huge fucking problem. Pack as much shit as you can, I’m coming over.” I hung up and ran inside, grabbing my suitcase by the door. What a relief that I had already packed for my parent’s house, now I wouldn’t have to explain this to Matt. I slammed the door, and unlocked my car, throwing my suitcase in the back.

As I drove to Zacky’s house, a serious mental war was fought in my head.

Rational me: What the hell are you doing? Running from the cops isn’t going to make your punishment any easier. You best just turn yourself in and confess; it’s the right thing to do.

Irrational me: WHO GIVES A FLYING FUCK ABOUT RIGHT AND WRONG?!? If I turn myself in, then that’s life in prison genius! Do you really want to be man handled by a prison transvestite, or become one yourself?

Rational me: Oh, quit over reacting! You’re not going to grow a dick from spending a few years in jail, and if you run, you could add another five years to your statement at best! You don’t even have a plan, and you can’t just spend your life on the run, that’ll hurt you more than prison.

Irrational me: GAAAHH JUST SHUT UP UNTIL WE GET TO ZACKY’S HOUSE!

Rational me: We’re already there dip shit.

I stopped the car in the driveway, and waited for Zacky to come out. When he didn’t, I rushed to the door and let myself in, looking around for him. Noticing the living room had been cleaned, I checked in the
kitchen and then his bedroom. I found him in the bathroom, nothing but pants on and shaving.

“Zacky, what the hell? I told you to pack!”

“Yeah, and if you hadn’t hung up the phone, you would’ve heard me tell you I’m not going.”

“Wha- why not?”

“Because, I’m not running off with you on some crazy escapade all because we fucked. Even if I wish we could...” I clenched my fist and gave him an outraged look.

“This isn’t cause we had sex retard! It’s because the cops are after us!” He gaped at me and then burst out laughing.

“Yeah ok! Ooo, the cops are coming for us, haha! Seriously Mari, listen-“

“NO, YOU LISTEN, YOU EGOTISTICAL JERK! This has nothing to do with us fucking; you need to forget about that, it doesn’t matter! The cops are looking for us because we sold a shit ton of illegal drugs last night!” He stared at me in horror, accidently dropped the razor on the floor. Throwing him a towel, I walked out and said;

“Pack your shit, like I said. I’ll be waiting downstairs.”

.............

Andrews walked into the club, leaving Debendetto outside to handle her phone call. He stood by the door looking disgusted; he absolutely hated clubs. But, he was here on business, so he would have to power through it. Walking to the bar, he looked at the photo of Becky, the girl he was supposed to be meeting here. Looking around, he finally noticed her, standing by the bathroom entrance with a drink in her hand.

He approached her cautiously, then flashed his badge when he was next to her.

“Are you Becky Hamilton?”

“Yes, I am,” she screamed right in his ear, “You’re Officer Andrews, right?” He nodded and she continued.

“Well, what exactly am I needed to do here?”

“Just what I asked you to do over the phone. We need you to point out this man, his name is Zacky Baker.” He showed her the photo and she gasped.

“What! He told me his name was Casper! That lying son of a-“

“Please ma’am, could you just tell us if he’s here or not!” She shook her head and returned the photo.

“Sir, I talked to the bartender, and he usually only comes in during the weekend.” Andrews hissed in frustration.

“But,” he looked back at Becky, “I know where he lives.”

............

Zacky came down the stairs with two suitcases in his hands. I smiled sadly at him, and he just simply shook his head.

“Ya know,” he said apprehensively, “We could just turn ourselves in. I mean, does it count if we were drunk or whatever while we sold it?”

“Yes, it does. Besides, we... well I, bought that stuff in full awareness. So I don’t think we have much choice here.” He nodded futilely and headed for the door.

“Hey, Zacky,” I said standing up, “I’m sorry.” My voice cracked and I looked at the floor. This was all my fault. Us having to go on the run, and leave all our friends behind. And leave Jimmy behind.... wherever he was right now. The fault all belonged to me. Zacky walked over to me and pulled me into a hug, wiping away the tears on my face.

“Whatever happens, I will always forgive you.” With that, he turned back to the bags and walked out the door. I followed him, grabbing the keys and my jacket, and shut the door.

Whatever happens, he said. What if whatever happens is too much?