Riley looked at me. “Rory and Kylie and Jess are all at my place. They left Robin back at the apartment.”
“But then why isn’t she answering?”
“I don’t know. She’s probably upset. She’s probably taking a shower or something.”
It didn’t make sense. Robin would reach out to me when she was upset, I was sure of it. So what was she doing, alone? The thought terrified me.
“I need a car.”
We were cutting down his street, and I suddenly realized as we came up to the house that Nathan’s car was in front of the house.
“No. No, Phoenix, don’t.” Riley already knew where my thoughts were going. “That’s grand theft auto.”
“Then I’ll borrow your car,” I said, bending over and picking up a good size rock off the tree lawn. I smashed it into Nathan’s window with a beautiful crash, sending glass shattering all over me and the grass.
“Ah, fuck, seriously?”
“Look away if you don’t want to be a part of it,” I told him as I leaned in through busted glass and popped the trunk.
Going around the back of the car I lifted the trunk and found what I was looking for—a tire iron. Then I took it to Nathan’s car, feeling the pulse and vibration up through my arms as the metal and fiberglass clashed together with each ferocious blow. Steadily making my way around the car, I hit it over and over, sweating and furious, the jarring contact rattling my teeth, the crunch of glass beneath my shoes feverishly satisfying. Vaguely in the background I was aware of the front door to the house opening and voices, but it didn’t matter. I saw my reflection in the passenger window, but I pictured Nathan’s sneer as I hit so hard the iron left my grip and went sailing straight through to the backseat.
Panting, I turned and walked away, spitting on the ground by the back tire, trying to rid my mouth of the foul taste that coated my tongue, the back of my throat.
There was a whole crowd staring at me in shock. Jessica, Rory, Kylie, Jayden, Easton. Riley was shaking his head.
“That’s what I think of a guy who cheats on his girlfriend,” I said to my audience. “That’s what I think of a guy who has sex with a girl who is so drunk she doesn’t even know where she is or who she’s with.”
Wiping the sweat off my forehead, I walked past them to the house, my new tattoo burning and itching as the healing skin pulled. “I need your keys!” I yelled to Riley over my shoulder.
But then I stopped and turned around. I locked eyes with Kylie. “I’m sorry.” Not for the car, but for the hurt she was feeling.
She just stared at me in shock, face swollen from crying. After a second, she nodded, and I thought she understood.
Rory drove me to Robin’s. She had said she needed to pack a bag for herself and Kylie and that she personally wanted to check on Robin. She also told me quite clearly that she didn’t think that I was in a frame of mind conducive to driving. And that was exactly how she said it. Conducive.
No, I was not feeling conducive to driving, whatever the hell that meant.
I felt calmer but not totally rational.
I was too damn worried about Robin.
“Riley said no one in the neighborhood will call the cops because it’s not their car. They won’t get involved. So don’t worry about that,” she said.
“I wasn’t.”
Rory looked insanely small driving Riley’s ancient Mustang, her auburn hair back in a ponytail, her dress something that in my mind was more suitable for a little kid at Easter or your grandmother’s couch, but I could see what Tyler saw in her. She was very matter-of-fact and not one for any sort of drama. I’d never once heard her raise her voice.
Robin didn’t shout either. She saved her passion for her art and for our bed.
Knowing it was pointless, I called Robin again. No answer.
“How is Kylie?” I asked.
“She is in shock. I mean, it was a double blow. Well, actually I suppose you could say a triple blow. Not only was it her friend and her boyfriend, but Nathan obviously did not regret it considering how many texts he sent after the fact, and their content.”
I cleared my throat, my jaw clenched, knuckles sore where I had hit him. “I don’t want to hear about the content. Sorry.”
Something about my voice had her glancing over at me nervously. “Sorry, that was thoughtless.”
“Have you heard from Tyler?”
“He has Nathan at the house. He is being belligerent. He wants to come over and talk to Kylie, but Tyler told him she doesn’t want to see him.”
I gave a laugh of disbelief, rubbing my face. “What a freakin’ mess. God, why isn’t Robin answering?”
“She’s upset, ashamed.” Rory pulled into a spot in front of the house. “I wish she had told us.”
“She couldn’t.” I got out of the car, anxiously waiting for Rory to get out of the car. Something was wrong. I knew it. I could feel it. Goose bumps rose on my skin. “Rory, hurry. Please.”
I started running. I don’t know why. I just did, pounding up the stairs to the landing to their apartment. I didn’t wait for Rory or her key. I just hit the door with my shoulder, hard, sending it flying back against the wall, wood splintering as I tore the lock from the hinge.
“Phoenix! What’s wrong?” Rory was behind me, coming up the stairs.
But that’s when I saw her, and I shouted, “Call 911!” I fell to the floor where Robin was, grabbing for her crumpled body. “Oh, God, oh, God, Robin, baby, Robin, wake up.”
Tears came to my eyes as I held her, trying to process what I was seeing. She was waxy white, and there was vomit all down the front of her dress. Her body was limp, unresponsive, legs bent at a weird angle. There was a mostly empty vodka bottle on its side on the floor next to her. All the breath seemed to suck out of my body like a vacuum had been brought to my lips. I couldn’t speak, couldn’t think, couldn’t move.
“Turn her on her side!” Rory ordered me in a sharp and commanding voice I didn’t normally associate with her.
“What?” I stared blankly up at her through watery eyes. “I don’t think she’s breathing,” I told Rory, and then a raw, anguished sob ripped out of my chest.
The phone was at Rory’s ear, and she told the operator, “Yes, blood alcohol poisoning. She’s been sober for about three months and now it looks like she drank at least a third of a bottle of vodka in less than ninety minutes.” Rory was breathing hard and talking fast as she shoved past me to push on Robin’s back. “Help me roll her, Phoenix, come on. We have to clear her airway in case she vomits again.”
“Is she alive?” I asked, even when I didn’t want to know the answer.
“Yes. Her breathing is shallow, but she’ll be okay as long as she doesn’t asphyxiate on her vomit.”
“Jesus.” That snapped me out of my stupor. She was alive. Robin was alive, and that was all that mattered. I rolled her onto her side. Her body was so cold, her face so clammy, her eyes not closed completely, but only the whites were visible, the absence of her irises disturbing. I was in agony seeing her like this, and I didn’t understand how this could happen. “Why would she do this?”
“Yes, thank you,” Rory was saying to the operator. “I hear the sirens now. I’m going down to let them in.”
As the pounding of Rory running down the stairs receded, I held Robin’s hand and brushed her hair back off her forehead. Bending over, I tried not to cry, and drew in a shuddering breath. I hadn’t cried since I was six years old. That I had tears in my eyes now shocked me, but God, if Robin was gone . . . I would be gone. Done. The light in my life would go out. My hands were shaking and I kissed her temple.
“Hang in there, you’re going to be fine,” I murmured, my voice hoarse and unsteady. “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”
Then the paramedics were there, jabbing an IV into her arm and taking her vitals as they loaded her onto a stretcher.