High Achiever Page 5

  “Johnson, you’re up,” the deputy said, peeking her head in the door. I recognized her. Her name was Tara and I had been to her wedding. As I sat up, I’d wondered for a moment if she remembered me puking all over the dance floor during the Cha Cha Slide. Hopefully not.

  I rolled around on the floor with my hands and feet shackled, trying to get my footing. I looked like a walrus and the girl in the cell with me was pretending not to watch. I finally stood up and headed toward the door where Tara was waiting, and I gave her a sheepish smile. I wasn’t sure exactly how to act in this situation. She didn’t even look at me. She just said, “Let’s go,” grabbed the chain between my wrists, and walked me toward the courtroom. Super awkward.

  As we stood outside the door, waiting for them to give her the go-ahead to bring me in, my heart felt like it was punching dents into my rib cage. My hands were sweating and my teeth were chattering, and I couldn’t stop myself from shaking. “You gonna be a’right?” she asked, while looking me up and down with disdain.

  “I’m fine,” I lied, trying to play it cool.

  Someone said something inaudible into her radio and she opened the door. The cold air of the courtroom hit me in the face as she pulled the door open, and I realized the seats were packed full of onlookers.

  I wanted to turn and run; I wished I could disappear. A million things were racing through my mind at that moment, but I knew I had no choice. It was time to answer for the things that I’d done. I could hear a pin drop in that room. All I heard were the chains of my shackles jangling with each step as I approached the lectern in front of the judge. As I stepped up to the lectern, Tara placed her hand over the microphone and whispered in my ear, “Don’t speak until spoken to,” and walked away. It was so strange having a friend talk to me that way. It was as if she had just flipped a switch that erased any memory she’d had of the times we’d shared. I was now just another no-name criminal she was in charge of transporting.

  I watched as a young woman with blond hair and really high heels crossed in front of me and handed the judge a folder. She then turned to face me and the rest of the courtroom, and swore me in. “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”

  “I do,” I said into the microphone, and for a split second wondered if I was supposed to say that or if you only said that at your wedding.

  “Then let’s begin. The charges against Tiffany Johnson are as follows:

  EIGHT COUNTS OF DEALING IN STOLEN PROPERTY;

  EIGHT COUNTS OF DEFRAUDING A PAWNBROKER;

  ONE COUNT OF GRAND THEFT;

  THREE COUNTS OF GRAND THEFT—STOLEN FIREARMS.

  “The victims of the above stated crimes were her boyfriend, Eliot Right, at the time, a deputy for the county sheriff’s office, as well as his mother and father, Linda and Darryl Right. Over the course of a year, the defendant stole, then pawned numerous items belonging to the victims at various pawnshops around the city. She then allegedly staged a burglary at the home she shared with Eliot Right and stole his wallet, containing two hundred dollars and his badge. We deployed numerous officers to investigate the crime. Miss Johnson was present at the home during the investigation and was interviewed about the robbery that occurred after she had left for work.

  “During her interrogation, she also admitted to stealing three of his firearms, one being his off-duty weapon, and exchanging them with a local drug dealer for narcotics.”

  The judge, attempting to remain straight-faced, slammed the file down in front of him and took off his glasses.

  “Miss Johnson, how do you plead to these charges?”

  “Guilty, Your Honor.”

  “Were you forced into this plea by your public defender, or anyone else?”

  “No, Your Honor.”

  “And why are you pleading guilty today?”

  “Because I did it.”

  10

  There was an audible gasp from the occupants of the courtroom once I had admitted to committing these crimes.

  I was careful not to look around at the officers surrounding me, but I didn’t have to see them to know they were glaring at me. I could feel it.

  People shuffled around in their seats and whispered to one another as the judge thumbed through his file. That file contained all the information pertaining to my case. The person I was before this all happened no longer mattered. Nowhere in that file did it say, “Defendant once saved her best friend from drowning at the beach,” “Miss Johnson had straight A’s at one point and was president of the student government,” or “Defendant once stopped traffic for ten minutes to rescue a turtle.”

  None of the good things I had ever done mattered. The person I had become was reduced to a few pages in a folder on the judge’s desk.

  I wasn’t sure how any of this worked. I had seen Law & Order countless times, and I assumed this was the part where he banged his gavel down and sentenced me to life in prison.

  He looked at me once more and said, “Next,” then slid my folder to the side and clasped his hands together.

  A guard suddenly grabbed my shackles. “Come on,” he said gruffly, ushering me to the same door through which I had entered.

  “What the…? That’s it? ’Scuse me, sir. Um, am I done? I mean, wasn’t he supposed to sentence me or something?” I asked.

  “Nope,” the guard said, his gaze fixed straight ahead. By now I had learned that my mere existence annoyed the police; therefore I knew when to shut up. I realized that they viewed me as scum—the equivalent of a mangy dog with rabies. They never made eye contact and had a constant look of disdain on their faces any time they were forced to acknowledge me. It was like pulling teeth to get them to answer even the simplest of questions, so I stopped trying.

  It would be seven more hours until I made it back to the jail. I was exhausted and starving. They hadn’t fed us a single thing the entire time we were gone, and by the time we got back, we had missed dinner.

  I couldn’t wait to talk to Brandy. I had questions that I knew she could answer and I could also use some cheering up. The uncertainty of everything had made me feel a hundred pounds heavier. It was as if a brick had been placed on my chest and I couldn’t remove it, making it hard to breathe.

  When I entered my cell, my eyes swept the room and landed on Brandy’s bunk. It was empty.

  “Where the hell is Brandy?” I asked Charlotte, a prostitute who had been brought in two days before. She was detoxing bad and barely came out from beneath her covers. When she did it was for food or to use the bathroom, and I couldn’t help but notice the staggering number of scabs covering her entire body. It was apparent that she was a picker.

  “She gone,” Charlotte said, peeking out to see my reaction.

  “What do you mean…she’s gone?!” I asked, panic in my voice.

  “I don’t know, man, they told her to roll it up. Someone bonded her out.” She pulled the covers over her head and lay back down to face the wall.

  I began sobbing.

  Uncontrollably, gut-wrenchingly crying. I dropped onto my bed and covered my face. I had only known Brandy a short time, but friendships are so different in jail. You spend every minute of every day with these people. One day in here is like a month’s worth of quality friend time outside.

  I was heartbroken by her sudden absence.

  I heard the familiar click of the main lights shutting down. It was time for bed, and we were no longer allowed to speak. I sat in the dark quietly breaking down at the realization that my only real friend in here was suddenly, and unexpectedly…gone. I was alone, I was hungry, and nobody gave a shit. In jail, people don’t care about your feelings. We are all in the same boat. It’s the only place I’ve ever been where tears get ignored and you are expected to handle your emotions on your own. Emotions were new to me. I didn’t know what to do whe
n I felt sad or angry. I felt I was losing control, like my body had been consumed by thoughts and feelings, and I had no coping mechanisms whatsoever. I’d been too busy getting high and feeling numb to process shit like this.

  When the doors opened for breakfast, I tried to open my eyes and found they were swollen from crying myself to sleep the night before. It had been such a long time since I’d actually felt something real that once the tears started flowing, they didn’t stop.

  “You look like shit,” a voice I didn’t recognize pointed out. I looked to my left and realized there was a new person occupying Brandy’s bunk. She must have come in the middle of the night. I couldn’t believe I didn’t hear it.

  I sat up in bed and stared at this girl. She had straggly blond hair and bright green eyes. I was trying to get a read on her, because if she was seriously insulting me right out of the gate, I was going to punch her in the throat. I had hoped she was trying to be funny, because I was too exhausted to get into my first jail fight even though I currently felt I was capable of murdering someone with all of the anger I had built up inside me.

  “I’m just fucking with you, dude, I’m Jessie,” she said, smiling. Her smile was really sweet, her eyes crinkled, and her perfectly white teeth were beautiful.

  “You all right? Seems like you had a rough night.”

  “Yeah, I did. My best friend left when I was gone and I didn’t get to say goodbye. I will probably never see her again and it’s really fucking depressing.”

  She pouted and hopped off her bunk. She surprised me by sitting down right next to me, so close that our hips were touching. Once she was closer I realized the sides of her head were shaved and she had a tattoo of brass knuckles behind her ear.

  “Aw, that sucks, man. I remember my first friend leaving jail. It gets easier. Come on, let’s get some food. Crying always makes me hungry. Also, I’m pretty sure it’s French toast and that shit is delicious.” She stood up energetically and held her arm out to help me up. I paused for a moment, because as desperately as I wanted to stay in bed, French toast was the bomb and I was starving. I grabbed her arm and pulled myself up.

  As I followed her into the dayroom I noticed the way she walked. It wasn’t a normal girl walk. It was almost manly. When she got to the back of the line she turned to make sure I was behind her and grinned.

  “What’s your favorite animal?” she asked as we inched forward toward the chow line.

  “What?” I asked.

  “What’s your favorite animal? Mine is a monkey. Sometimes I wish I was a monkey, bro. You know how cool it would be to like, swing from trees and shit, just eating bananas all day?” She bounced back and forth as she spoke, imitating a monkey.

  “Okay, first of all—monkeys eating bananas is a myth. They mainly eat leaves and flowers and bird eggs. Some eat bananas, but that’s not like, all they eat. And secondly, why the fuck are you asking me this?”

  “Whoa, Encyclopedia Brown, pump your brakes. I’m just trying to make conversation—cheer you up a bit. It makes me sad to see you sad, and besides, we are gonna be sleeping next to each other for a while. I figured it would be nice to get to know each other.” She did a little hair flip that reminded me of Justin Bieber. I couldn’t help but laugh.

  “What’s so funny?” she asked, poking me in my side teasingly.

  “Hey!” I said. I was the most ticklish person on earth. “No, it’s nothing. You just did a little…you flipped your hair. It reminded me of—”

  “Next!” the guard yelled at Jessie, interrupting our conversation.

  Once she got her tray, she stood off to the side and waited for me. Apparently, I was sitting with her. Brandy and I used to sit together and it really annoyed me that this chick was trying to take her place to make me feel better or something.

  She sat down at a table in the corner and I reluctantly slid into the seat across from her. I began poking at my French toast when suddenly a gorgeous girl I didn’t recognize came up to the table and touched Jessie’s shoulder. She had shiny black hair—which was really weird because most of the girls had raggedy, sweaty hair from detoxing and lack of good hygiene. This girl looked like a damn supermodel.

  “Hey, Jessie, long time no see. You just can’t stay away from this place, can you?” she said, smiling. She sounded like a freaking sex-phone operator. I tried to ignore the conversation, but Jessie introduced me to Angelina Jolie just as I shoved a giant piece of bread into my mouth.

  “Shawna, this is…Wait, shit, I haven’t even asked your name yet! What is it?” Jessie asked me.

  “Tiffermy,” I said with my mouth full.

  Jessie laughed. “This is my new friend Tiffany.” She smiled and gestured toward me. I smiled with cheeks full of food like a damn chipmunk, and Shawna’s face fell into a look of annoyance.

  She forced out a smile and quickly said “Hi” as she looked me up and down. “Anyway, Jessie…come by my cell later. I have something I wanna show you,” she said, winking as she walked away.

  I looked up at Jessie with my eyebrows raised.

  “I know she’s rude. Pay no attention to her. She always gets jealous when I talk to girls.”

  I watched Jessie as she sucked the orange juice from her cup, feeling incredibly confused. “Why would she get jealous? That’s weird,” I said.

  “Yeah. She’s my ex. We dated a long time ago and she’s never been able to let it go. I have that effect on the ladies,” she said, giving me a wink.

  That wink…sent a vibration through my entire body. “Oh. Okay. You’re a lesbian. Gotcha. No, that’s cool. I totally support gay people. I have gay friends, so…yeah, awesome.” I shoved my egg into my mouth as fast as I could so that I’d no longer have to say words. I looked like a real fucking idiot. But I didn’t know what the hell else to say.

  Jessie froze, then began laughing hysterically at me.

  “Fuck you, dude.” I laughed.

  “Oh my God. That’s the greatest thing I’ve ever heard. ‘I have gay friends.’ Oh man. I’m sorry. Whew. Yes, I’m a lesbian. I think females are the most gorgeous creatures on earth. Their eyes, their breasts, their laughs, everything about them drives me crazy.” I awkwardly nodded along as she spoke, trying my best to appear supportive. “Don’t worry, though, I’m not going to jump on you when you’re sleeping or anything. I mean…unless you want me to,” she said with a devilish smile. There it was again, that tingle inside me. What the hell was wrong with me?

  I began subconsciously fixing my hair and sitting up straighter. I don’t know what had gotten into me but all of a sudden, my feelings toward Jessie were…shifting. I watched as she ate her French toast and couldn’t help but feel a little, I don’t know…Interested? I can’t explain what I was feeling, especially since all feelings were new to me. All I knew was that once I found out she was attracted to women and after she had been so caring and kind to me, I felt flattered.

  She caught me staring at her and I quickly glanced down at my plate. “What?” she asked with a smirk. Jesus. My inner thighs were tingling. What is happening right now?

  “Giraffe,” I said, gazing across the table at her.

  “Huh?” she replied, looking confused.

  “Giraffe. Giraffes are my favorite animal.” I felt my cheeks flush and realized…I suddenly had my first girl crush.

  11

  “Good morning, beautiful. Merry Christmas.”

  I flinched as she said the words. I had been lying awake for hours, staring at the bottom of my bunkie’s bed. Depression had coiled around me like a snake this morning. I felt paralyzed.

  * * *

  —

  Christmas had always been my favorite holiday, but this year it was a heartbreaking reminder that life as I knew it no longer existed. I closed my eyes and brought myself back to last Christmas. Eliot, my boyfriend at the time, had woken me up with a h
ot cup of coffee. He was supposed to be on duty, but he said he had a surprise for me and couldn’t wait until tonight. He placed a small square box next to my head on the pillow and smiled with satisfaction.

  “Open it,” he said, sitting down next to me.

  I smiled sleepily and pulled myself up into a seated position. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and began removing the shiny silver wrapping paper. My brain finally woke up and stopped suddenly before opening the box. “Hang on, let me go pee really quick,” I said, pulling the covers off me and tiptoeing to the bathroom.

  I had realized that I would have to act excited and grateful for whatever was in that box, which seemed exhausting to me. I ran the faucet and quickly pulled my bag of pills and a syringe from the tampon box underneath the counter.

  I would have to do this faster than normal, as he was virtually on the other side of the door waiting for me. I scrambled to get everything ready, careful not to make the spoon “clang” on the counter as I set it down. “Hurry up, babe, I gotta go back to work,” he said.

  “Coming! I’m brushing my teeth, I don’t want to kiss you with morning breath!” I yelled as I wrapped the belt around my biceps, pulling it tight. I knew I was going to hell for this. I couldn’t even begin interacting with other humans until I shot myself up with drugs. I hated myself and what I had become—but I couldn’t stop. I didn’t know how.

  * * *

  —

  “Hellllllo? Earth to Tiffany, I said Merry Christmas,” Jessie said, waving her hand back and forth in front of my face, ripping me from my daydream.

  “Oh, hey. Yeah, I’m sorry. Today is a little weird for me,” I said.

  “I bet. Christmas in jail sucks. But there is an upside,” she began, in her usual optimistic way. “The church ladies should be here any minute, and they give us socks and chocolate. So it’s not a total loss.” She smiled and leaned in to give me a kiss. I grabbed the back of her head and pulled her closer. I needed love today. Even though I was surrounded by people, I felt so…alone. My heart skipped a beat as she swirled her tongue around mine and gently squeezed the back of my neck.