High Achiever Read online

  We had only been seeing each other for a few weeks or so, but a week in jail felt like a lifetime.

  She briefly pulled her lips away from mine and stared deep into my eyes. My heart immediately started beating out of control and when she grabbed the back of my head to pull me in for another kiss, I noticed her breathing had gotten much heavier.

  She slid her hand out from behind my neck and slowly lowered it to my breast. My inner thighs began tingling as she started rubbing and gently kneading it in the palm of her hand. She pushed me back onto the bed and lay down on top of me. I was aching for her to touch me between my legs.

  She must have read my mind, because she pressed her chest to mine and lifted her pelvis, allowing room for her to glide her hand underneath my pants. Before she could touch me, a metallic bang caused her to push off me with lightning speed and stand straight up. I was panting as I peered out the door to see that a guard had entered the pod.

  Fuck. I don’t know if it was because it was a holiday, or because I was overly emotional, but I was hornier than I’d ever been. And frankly, I was pretty pissed at that cockblocking cop.

  I had never been in a relationship with a girl before. I mean, I’d been attracted to them because, well, obviously women are beautiful beings. I’d never acted on those feelings before, though. They were usually fleeting thoughts while passing someone on the street. When Jessie had kissed me, my stomach did a somersault. My friend Trina, a woman who had been there a while, said I was “gay for the stay” and that it was common for straight girls to become interested in other women after being away from the male species for so long. But this felt different. We had a real connection, on a deeper level.

  The guards locked the doors for count, and Jessie wanted to finish what we had started. Aside from the fact that there were now three other people in the room, I was no longer in the mood. I was really sad. I couldn’t help but wonder what my family was doing today.

  I had no money on my books so I hadn’t been able to make any calls. I had been closed off completely from the outside world. I was sure my sister would go visit my father today. Our mother had passed three years earlier and my dad was the only other family we had in town.

  A girl in the cell above us began singing “Silent Night.” Her voice was angelic as it echoed through the pod. Without warning, the tears began flowing from my eyes, as if someone had left a faucet running. We weren’t allowed to have radios, so after a month of no music, her voice was the most beautifully moving sound I had ever heard.

  I’d never been this heartbroken in my entire life. I missed my mom. I missed my sister and my dad. I missed my childhood and all the wonderful Christmases we had celebrated as a family of four, before divorce, death, addiction, and alcoholism had ravaged us and torn us all apart.

  I closed my eyes as the beautifully nostalgic melody carried through the room. I imagined my sister and me waking up together Christmas morning and giggling with excitement as we ran down the stairs and both gasped in disbelief at the beautifully colorful display of gifts that Santa had left for us. I would give anything to go back to that moment. I would do everything so differently.

  My trip down memory lane had been interrupted by the voice of my archnemesis. “Ay, somebody tell that police-ass ho she got a visitor. It’s probably another cop. He’s here to get the latest report!” Daniels said, as a group of girls erupted in laughter.

  Daniels had had it in for me ever since that first day when they tried to put me in her pod. She had threatened to “beat my ass” on several different occasions—but never did.

  “Johnson, your visitation has already started. You better get in there, you only have twenty minutes,” Deputy Davis said into the intercom of my cell.

  What the hell? Did she say visitation?

  The jail visitation room was on the opposite side of the pod. It consisted of three TVs that were linked to a room in a separate building where our loved ones had to check in. Visitation had to be scheduled ahead of time online. Who the hell was here?

  I ran full speed to the visitation room, ignoring the comments from the other girls regarding my weight and “the building shaking” as I ran. I swung the door open and tried to catch my breath. There was a figure on the farthest TV from the door and the moment I registered who it was I placed my hand over my mouth and began sobbing. It was my father.

  My daddy had come to visit me on Christmas. My hands trembled as I picked up the phone and placed it to my ear. “Hi, Dad,” I said, breaking down into uncontrollable sobs. There are no words to describe how amazing it was to see my father’s face.

  “Hello, my baby,” Dad said, his voice cracking as he tried not to cry. He started to say something and stopped himself. His chin began quivering as he held up one finger, telling me to hold on.

  I wiped the tears from my face and hiccuped as I tried catching my breath while I waited. “My baby girl. It is so…hard…to talk to you through a screen. I am so, so sorry,” he said, his voice trembling. I couldn’t speak. I was drowning in emotions; he was so close, but so far away.

  “No, I’m sorry, Dad. I’m sorry you have to visit me in jail. I’m sorry I lied to you, to everyone. I’m sorry that I am such a fuckup. I love you so much and I wish more than anything in the world I could hug you right now,” I said, putting my hand up onto the screen.

  “Your sister is in the car, she drove me here. She isn’t ready to come in yet,” he said.

  I nodded. “I understand, please tell her that I love her and pray that one day she can forgive me. Please tell her I said Merry Christmas, Dad,” I said, glancing at the timer. “We only have ten minutes left, Dad. God, how is this going by so quickly?”

  “Listen, baby, there are a few things I want to say before the time runs out, okay?” he said.

  “Sure,” I said.

  “Eliot has written a letter to the judge to get your charges reduced,” he began, his voice cracking again. “He doesn’t want you in here. He has been in touch with your sister and gave her all of your belongings. He’s in pretty bad shape,” he said. His words cut through me like a knife. I destroyed Eliot. I took his heart and ripped it to shreds, and all of his co-workers on the force know all of the gory details. That poor man.

  “Five-minute warning,” a robotic voice said into the receiver.

  “Also, I thought you should know that as of today I have forty-five days sober,” he said.

  “What? Are you serious?” My father had been an alcoholic all my life. I spent weekends with him as a child, and the majority of our weekend was spent at the bar. At the time, I thought it was great. My sister and I would play the jukebox and sip cherry Cokes out of wineglasses. It wasn’t until much later that I realized how fucked up it is to bring your six- and seven-year-old children to the bar with you.

  “Oh my God, Dad, that’s amazing!”

  He smiled and nodded, but I could tell something was off. He wasn’t beaming with pride as someone with forty-five days sober would.

  “Well, yes, it is a good thing. I feel really good for the first time in as long as I can remember. Maybe when you get out of there we can go to some meetings together,” he said.

  “Aw, Dad, that would be amazing. I am so, so proud of you. I’ve been feeling so down, but having you visit has literally changed everything for me. To know that you still love me, in spite of all the shit I did, has honestly breathed new life into me today. I really needed this.”

  “Babe, there is nothing you could ever do to make me stop loving you. I held you the moment you came into this world and carried you for years after; I will carry you until you are able to walk on your own again, and even then I will be holding your hand to make sure you don’t fall,” he said. The tears began flowing from my eyes once again.

  “One minute remaining.”

  “Tiff, before we get disconnected I have to say one more thi
ng. It’s important.”

  “Okay? What is it?” I asked.

  “I really hate to give you bad news while you’re in there, but you need to know what’s going on. The reason I stopped drinking was because—” He paused. Almost as if he were still debating whether to tell me. “I stopped drinking because the doctor told me I had to. I’ve got cancer, Tiff. It’s spread to my liver and—”

  An automated voice cut us off. “Time is up. Goodbye.”

  His face disappeared from the screen.

  12

  I stared at the blank screen in disbelief for what seemed like an eternity. He had probably gathered up his belongings and was headed through the parking lot by now. I pictured his walk, his face, the joke he was going to make when he got into the car with my sister to ease whatever tension she might have been experiencing.

  His words replayed over and over as I continued to stare at the screen, the phone still pressed to my ear. “I’ve got cancer….It’s spread to my liver and—” Like a CD skipping it played again and again. I was afraid to hang up the phone, because hanging up the phone meant I had to get up, walk out, and carry on as if I hadn’t just received the most earth-shattering news of my life.

  Cancer had taken three of my four grandparents. I’d lost my mother to cancer three years ago. Now this fucking disease had circled back around to snuff out the life of my father. The man who’d held me in his arms and rocked me to sleep at night. Who’d put our mattresses against the walls so we could use them as a slide. The man who’d carried my sister and me down the stairs each morning on his back and plopped us in front of a Disney movie while he brushed our hair and got us ready for school.

  That man had this horrific condition ravaging his insides and I couldn’t do a fucking thing about it. I was stuck. Stuck in a cage with a hundred other heartless women who couldn’t care less that my heart was breaking and my world was slowly crumbling around me. I needed a hug. I needed someone to tell me everything was going to be okay. I needed to get high. I slammed the phone into the cradle and let out a primal scream.

  Why? Why had I gotten myself in a position where I couldn’t be with my dad when he needed me most? I hated myself for this, for this and for so many other things. Why the hell couldn’t I just be normal? Why couldn’t I go to college like all my old friends, enjoying sorority life and getting an education. Why did I have to take that first pill?

  I stood up from my chair and my knees buckled. I hit the floor and wailed, my voice taking up every inch of the room. No one came, no one cared, and I could hear giggles and see shadows as everyone came to see what the suicidal psycho was up to this time. I took a deep breath, collecting myself, and headed toward the door. I kept my head down and walked briskly back to my cell. I didn’t want to inadvertently make eye contact with anyone and be forced to converse with them.

  Evidently, the universe had other plans for me. I was two feet away from my cell when I heard Inmate Daniels call me a “police-ass ho” in the distance. I saw red. I stopped short and immediately began heading in her direction. My legs were moving before my mind caught up; I didn’t even know where I was heading at this point. I was marching toward her voice like a lion about to attack its prey. I was going to find her, and I was going to rip her fucking face off.

  I spotted her when she stood up from her chair at the table where she and two other girls had been playing cards. She’d seen me bounding across the dayroom and decided to take a defensive position to prepare for what was coming. I didn’t even know what was coming. I had lost all control. My mind was merely a helpless passenger and my anger was at the helm.

  The words shot from my mouth like missiles as I approached her. “YOU REALLY WANNA FUCK WITH ME TODAY, BITCH? I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU!” I screamed, an inch from her face. I wrapped my hands around the fabric of her collar and twisted it as I jerked her closer to me. I watched her expression turn to fear and I could tell she was shocked and unsure what to do. “Call me a fucking police-ass ho now, bitch. SAY IT NOW!” I spit the words into her face.

  Had it not been for Trina yanking me off her and my glasses flying off my face, I would have slammed my fist into her face until she stopped moving.

  The pain and anguish that came along with being stuck in jail combined with my father’s news had pushed me to the boiling point. Her name-calling popped the lid right off, releasing weeks of anxiety and stress in the form of violent rage.

  I scrambled across the floor until I located my glasses, throwing them onto my face as quickly as possible and spinning around in preparation for whatever blow she was about to throw. But she was gone. I sat up and looked around the room. Everyone was staring at me, their faces a mixture of shock and amusement. I couldn’t see Daniels anywhere.

  “You better get your ass up and go in your cell before the guards get in here,” Trina said over the rim of her glasses. “You’re lucky I got you off her before they came in here and hit you wit’ that Taser.” I jumped up to my feet, glancing around nervously, and headed for my cell. Daniels’s bunkies must have pulled her into her cell, probably to keep her from going to lock.

  Jessie was standing at the entrance to our cell, her head following me as I whisked past her and hopped into my bed. “Are you serious right now?” she said, her jaw hanging open.

  “What? Am I serious about what?” I said.

  “Um, about snatching Daniels up by the shirt and threatening to murder her? Like, what? It was sexy, don’t get me wrong, but…I didn’t know you had that in you. What just happened?” Jessie asked.

  I stood up and began pacing the cell, I couldn’t stay still.

  “Dude, I got some really bad news in visitation and I just—”

  “A’right, ladies! Back to your cells!” Deputy Woods yelled as she entered the pod.

  “Fuck. Am I in trouble? I’m gonna have to go to lock, huh? I should have at least throat-punched her. That woulda been worth going for,” I said, peering through the gate to see if the officer was headed my way. She was holding the pod door open with her foot, and I watched as a girl came through the door holding a mat.

  “Fresh meat!” one of the inmates yelled from the top tier.

  Hell yes, they aren’t here for me, there are new girls coming in from holding. Thank you, Jesus.

  “Damn, I didn’t know they did a prostitution sting in the graveyard today! You bitches are looking rough!” an inmate called Cookie yelled out, causing the entire pod to erupt in laughter. When I saw the final girl enter—my heart soared.

  “Brandy!” I screamed, running up to the gate and clasping the metal bars with my hands. My best friend. She was back. Seeing her face had made me momentarily forget all the drama that had just occurred. It was like the universe knew I needed a friend right now.

  “Brandy! Over here!” I yelled, waving like a schoolgirl.

  “Johnson! Shut the hell up and sit down, this ain’t a damn reunion,” Deputy Woods yelled from the entrance. Deputy Woods was a tall lesbian. All the girls had crushes on her. Most of them whistled and catcalled as she passed their cells during count. They never got in trouble for it—I think she liked the attention.

  I rolled my eyes and sighed as I headed back to my bed. They liked everyone to be in their room and settled as they brought new inmates in. That way they could get an accurate count.

  The moment they finished the count and the doors popped open, I ran straight over to Brandy’s cell. It was unfortunately located next to Daniels’s cell, but I didn’t give a shit. I needed to see my friend.

  “Brandy!” I called as I entered her room, but once I caught a glimpse of her face—I stopped dead in my tracks. She had only been out a week or two and she looked like a completely different person. She had lost a ton of weight and her face was covered in fresh scabs. When I got closer I could tell from her gigantic pupils that she was high as a kite.

 
“Oh my God, Tiff! I missed you!” she said, throwing her arms around my neck. “Dude, I can’t motherfucking believe I’m back in this shithole. They are tryn’a say some bullshit about me soliciting sex or some shit.” She was speaking so fast I could barely make out the words. “Tiff, oh my God, I got some important shit to tell you real quick,” she said, pacing back and forth while scratching her head.

  I seriously couldn’t believe this was the same beautiful girl I’d met when I first got here. She looked ten years older. Her eyes had sunken in and she had dark circles underneath both. “Are you okay?” I asked, looking at her intently. I knew she wasn’t.

  “I’m good, I’m reallllly good. I was banging a hit of meth when the cops rolled up so I—boop—did it real quick.” She motioned the act of shooting up. I didn’t even know you could bang meth. “I knew they were taking me to jail anyway, right, and I figured what the hell, if I’m going down I’m going down with a bang! Ha ha. Literally.” I stared in disbelief as she continued spewing words out like a sprinkler, random bursts of clustered words. “But holy shit, I’m freaking out kinda,” she said, glancing around nervously and bopping onto her tippy-toes as she spoke. Jealousy and longing washed over me as I imagined what the hit must have felt like. Seeing her feeling so good made every cell in my body ache. I wanted to feel that. I tightened up with anxiety knowing it was impossible. I needed to get out of this room as quickly as I could before I exploded.

  “Hey, did you want to tell me something? Because I am really tired and need a nap,” I said, standing up and preparing to exit.

  “Yes! Shhh, come sit. I have to be quiet,” she whispered. I reluctantly sat back down on her unmade bunk. It felt as though all the blood in my body had been replaced with little ants. My skin was crawling. I wanted to get high so bad that it physically hurt.