That Time with Sugar Read online

  “I was twelve. I didn’t think much about anything at that time except figuring out how to get between a girl and her training bra.” Harold got a kick out of that comment. Sugar was still angry and hurt and it was coming off of her in waves. “When I got back to school after the suspension, Becky yanked me into the girls’ bathroom. She let me feel her up while she stuck her tongue in my mouth. So, no, it wasn’t harassment. It was flirting because I knew Becky and I knew what she was like.” This evoked a grunt of disapproval from Jayleen. I continued. “Becky had three older sisters, and they all had a reputation for spreading their legs. Their father was an abusive prick, and I think they were just trying to get attention.”

  “So, you took advantage of a girl because her father was abusive?” Kirkendall said.

  I stared hard at the doctor. Just like my teacher, she seemed to be wishing she could pull the words back. “For a non-judgmental group session, I seem to be getting a lot of fucking judgment. And deal with the language. I was in speech therapy for stuttering for years, and I can tell you the word fuck is the one word that never gets stuck on my tongue.”

  Kirkendall didn’t know shit about me. She thought this digging was opening me, splaying my insides out for all to see, but it had been a kiss for a twelve year old. My first tongue kiss. Nothing more.

  Sugar sat stock-still next to me, and I wished to hell I hadn’t come to group. I wished I hadn’t pissed her off with my stupid fucking note. I wished she wasn’t sitting there next to me listening to me tell this stupid damn story.

  “I’ve upset you. I apologize.” The tiny gold hoops vibrated as she jotted down a few words under her big silver clip. “Let’s move on to someone else and another topic.” She smiled at Harold. “Harold, how was the visit with your family?” And that was that. She’d stuck me center stage, turned on the spotlight and tossed a few rotten tomatoes at me with her final question. Then she yanked me off stage.

  Chapter 5

  Not wanting to add fuel to the rumor that I was an arrogant asshole, I stuck it out for the rest of group. Three times, I glanced over at Sugar, and all three times, she ignored me. I got up and left the second Kirkendall excused us. I headed to the kitchen for a drink of water. I needed something for my dry mouth.

  It seemed my luck wasn’t changing anytime soon. Dr. Kirkendall and her brightly colored clipboard met on my way out of the kitchen.

  “Told you those group sessions were worthless for me.” I tried to slip past her.

  “On the contrary, Tommy. That session far surpassed all of my expectations today.”

  I looked at her, trying to read more from her expression, but she had on her doctor face. “I’m sorry that Pete started the whole thing on such a negative note. And I’m afraid I ended it on a negative one too. But I do think these sessions will be good for you.”

  I nodded, but it was more to end the conversation than to agree with her. “Don’t know if it’ll be good for Pete and Jayleen. I’m not sure how to look less menacing.”

  She placed her hand on my arm and leaned closer. “You could try unfurling your fists every once in a while.” Her little gold hoops twinkled at me. “By the way, I gave your note to Sugar.” She walked away.

  This place could close in on me fast. I headed outside and across the yard to the bars. It was mid-June, and the summer heat was still wavering between bearable and sticky. The laughable gym in the facility had only a few exercise bikes and four treadmills. Nothing like riding and walking for hours and going nowhere. Weights were not allowed. I could have used some.

  I reached the black rubber mats. The afternoon sun was bouncing off of them, making the area beneath the bars and swings hotter than the surrounding air. I yanked off my shirt, against regulations, of course, but then no one liked to come out this far. I reached up and took hold of the bar for pull-ups. I hauled myself up to that bar again and again until my biceps were shaking, my palms burned and sweat rolled down between my shoulder blades. My mind was blank through it all, just me focusing on the pull-ups. Quiet reflection, that was how we were supposed to spend our days at this place, but I hated spending that much quiet time with my thoughts. Reflection and bringing up old shit seemed counterproductive to me.

  I hadn’t heard her footsteps behind me. Her voice drifted over my shoulder as I hung there trying to see if I had it in me to pull myself up once more.

  “A scorpion tattoo,” she said. “I guess I’ve never seen you shirtless. Nice.”

  I dropped down, picked up my shirt and wiped my face with it. Sugar walked over to the swings and stretched out her long legs. She was wearing shorts and yellow high-top tennis shoes. Satiny, tanned skin stretched between the hems of her roughly cut-off shorts and the tops of the shoes.

  I pulled on my shirt. It stuck to the sweat on my back and shoulders. I sat on the swing next to her and pulled the cigarettes out of my back pocket.

  Sugar’s lip tilted at the corner. “Smoking sort of negates the exercise session, don’t you think?” She was still not herself, like she wasn’t convinced she should have come out to talk to me.

  I lit my cigarette and peered around the yard. Either it was too hot, or too cold, or too humid, most people found every excuse not to step outside the building. As far as I was concerned, if they’d allow it, I would’ve dragged my pillow outside to sleep. It was far better than inside. I offered her a hit on my cigarette. She shook her head.

  “So, you don’t hate me?” she asked. The girl was beautiful and funny and smart and athletic and people gravitated toward her just to be standing closer and yet, somehow, she managed to be insecure.

  I looked over at her. She stared down at her yellow shoes. “Not possible, Sugar. No way I could ever hate you.”

  She pushed off and swung gently back and forth. “Dr. Kirkendall likes to pry stuff out of everyone, doesn’t she?”

  “I was definitely her target today, but I guess that’s my fault for skipping group so much.”

  “She tells me the reason I was always sleeping with all my mom’s boyfriends was to get her attention, something I wanted badly. But I think it was more that she was my model for behavior, and so, like mother, like daughter . . .” She put her feet down and twisted the swing chains around twice before letting go. Her incredible legs swung around and she dropped her head back as she spun. I pinched the cigarette between my thumb and forefinger and took a drag on it as I watched her, her hair swirling around in chocolate waves and her smooth white throat exposed to the sunlight.

  Sugar stopped the spin with her feet. She pushed the hair from her face. “I don’t get it. Why dredge up all these childhood memories, stuff that I would prefer to keep under the layers of silt? I mean, yeah, so my mom did a crappy job raising me, but it’s done. You can’t erase it, you know?”

  “We’re permanently warped, is that what you’re trying to say?” I asked.

  “You, Tommy Jameson, are definitely warped. It just seems stupid to keep blaming my mom for all my mistakes. She wasn’t a great mom, but she’s good at what she does.”

  “What does your mom do, anyhow?”

  “My mom does pretty. And she does it so well, she lands one rich husband after another.”

  “She’s a pro at pretty, huh? I guess some of her rubbed off on you after all.”

  She waited for the pink blush in her cheeks to fade before she looked at me, really looked at me for the first time since she’d walked out there, and the impact of her gaze, her undivided attention, caused the breath to jam in my lungs. We coasted through one of those subtle moments where no words were exchanged but plenty was being said. We were connected. Maybe it was because we had so many similarities, Sugar and me. We had never suffered like some kids who came to school hungry or didn’t have shoes that fit right, but we both seemed to have missed out on normalcy, stuff that makes you grow up without having anger issues or a need to get attention by getting in trouble or sleeping with all the wrong people. For both of us, it seemed, there were boundaries for ma
king stupid decisions. And, it seemed, that both of us had made plenty of those. Or maybe these wordless moments just happened for me because the rest of the universe vanished when Sugar was near.

  “You never told me what you did to get yourself dropped into this place,” I said.

  “You first.”

  “Nothing too exciting. I was at a bar, drunk off my ass and flirting with a girl, a girl who turned out to be the girlfriend of a really big fucking dude.” I stretched my jaw open remembering what it felt like to get slammed by the guy. “After a few minutes, I got the better of him. The blood streamed so fast from his nose, the bartender fainted. It wasn’t my first fight or the first time I’d sent someone to the hospital. Judge told me to clean up or do time.”

  “I got the same ultimatum. But without drawing blood.” She started swinging again. “I was out with a couple of guys one night.” She looked pointedly at me. “Friends. We were all stoned out of our minds, and for some stupid reason, we decided it would be cool to skinny dip in a stranger’s pool. We picked a real nice Tudor style mansion on a lovely tree-lined private road. Jumped the wall, took off our clothes and dove in. I hardly remember anything except that the wall was really high, and I twisted my ankle coming down the other side. But I was so numb with all the stuff pumping through my body, I didn’t even notice my ankle until they’d hauled us into jail.” She laughed. “The house belonged to a very prominent judge, and he was hosting a dinner that night when the caterer noticed us splashing around. I just remember sitting on the hard, cold bench in the holding tank shivering like crazy with wet hair and semi-wet clothes and looking down at my ankle. It had swelled up to the size of a tennis ball.” She glanced across the yard. “Hey, look who came out of his rock cave.”

  Julian’s shoulders were up high, usually a sign that something had him tense. He had his blue cap pulled low over his face, and despite the heat, he was dressed in a long sleeve shirt and pants.

  “Jeez, I hope the Count remembered to put on sun block,” I said. “What’s he working on anyhow? Disabling the government’s nuclear bomb testing sites? Hacking into the international space station’s computer system?”

  Sugar stood up. “Glaciers.” She smiled over at me. The prickly crap between us from this morning was gone, and it seemed, for now, at least, we were good again.

  “Did you say glaciers?”

  “Yep, he’s collecting all kinds of data to see if he can pinpoint to the day when the last glacier on earth will be gone.” She seemed to be assessing something. “Hey, if I can make it all the way to the bench where Jules is sitting in ten cartwheels, then you have to play in the wiffle baseball game tomorrow against the ward assistants and nurses.”

  “Wiffle baseball? I used to play that,” I said. “When I was three.”

  “It’s residents like you, menacing and all that, who keep us from having real bats and balls. Do we have a bet?”

  “What do I get if you don’t make it there in ten?”

  She bit her lip in thought. Her blue eyes smiled. “It doesn’t matter. I won’t lose.” She stretched her hands up and took off in a blur of long legs and arms. She’d done several, and her performance had caught the attention of Denise, the kitchen helper who was collecting tomatoes. Even Julian had dragged his eyes away from the computer to watch. I didn’t know much about gymnastics, but she was good. I’d been too busy watching her to count, but somehow in the middle of her dizzying display, she’d noticed that Denise had dropped the basket of tomatoes. Sugar yanked her feet to the ground and dashed over to help her pick them up. It was something I’d witnessed her do many times. She could be on the other side of the room or the other end of the yard and she’d stop whatever she was doing if someone needed help. It was some natural instinct she had to help people or worry when someone else was distressed about something. Hypersensitive to other people’s needs, I’d heard Dr. Kirkendall say. It was a good trait, something that we should all possess, she’d told Sugar once. Denise gave Sugar a big thank you smile and headed off with her basket of runaway tomatoes. Sugar cartwheeled over to Julian and plunked down next to him.

  I walked over to them. “You didn’t make it,” I called to her.

  “Yes, I did. That was ten. I didn’t say anything about going in a straight line.” She smiled up at me. “You have to play tomorrow, and you too, Julian. Wiffle ball game tomorrow against the ward assistants and nurses. We need everyone to play.”

  Julian kept looking at his monitor. “Don’t think so, Sugar. That new ward assistant will probably be there. He’s inside right now mopping the hallway floor with some terrible toxin. That’s why I came out here. Had to clear my head of the poison.” The poor guy had more chemicals than blood squirting through his veins, and he was worried about inhaling floor cleaner. “I’ve already written to my dad to tell him they need to switch cleaning products in this place or we’ll all be asphyxiated.” Julian’s dad didn’t have much to do with Green Willow, but one call from him to the board of directors was all it would take.

  “It’s just floor cleaner, Jules. It’s meant to smell strong. Gives the illusion that things are hospital clean.” I walked behind the bench and looked at his computer. He had a spreadsheet of numbers in front of him that looked complicated and boring.

  “New ward assistant?” Sugar asked. “That big dude with the mop is a ward assistant? I thought he was just from maintenance.”

  “What big dude?” I asked.

  Julian shook his head. I could tell the topic was upsetting him.

  “What’s going on, Jules?” I asked. “Can’t just be the floor cleaner that made you venture out beneath the cancer causing sun. What’s up, buddy?”

  Sugar looked up at me. “The new guy is sort of scary looking with big arms and a scar that cuts right across his chin.” She pointed to her own chin.

  Julian hunched his shoulders up and typed faster. Numbers and columns were moving, but there was no way a layman like me could make sense of what he was doing. “He’s been lurking. Came into my room to get my trash this morning, and he was wearing this mocking facial expression as he looked at my rock wall. I don’t trust him. I’ve told my dad.” Julian knew how to take paranoia to a whole new level, but he also had an uncanny ability to know people’s characters, whether they were good or bad. Sometimes, even though we didn’t interact that much on a personal level, I was sure the guy knew everything about me, about my past and every hardheaded thing I’d done.

  “If you think he’s trouble, Jules,” Sugar said, “then I’m sure your dad will take care of it. Maybe he can find out more about the guy, and maybe he’s not trouble. Maybe he just looks scary. Like our friend, Tommy, here.”

  “Thank you.”

  The comment normally would have at least gotten a smile from Julian. He did love to occasionally point out what he called my thuggish tendencies, but his face was flat with worry. Sugar looked upset that she couldn’t make him feel better.

  I leaned my elbows on the back of the bench. “Look, Jules, I’ve got your back, all right. Nothing is going to happen to you while you’ve got scary, menacing Tommy looking out for you.”

  “And arrogant,” Sugar added. “Don’t forget arrogant.”

  I raised a brow at her. “Yeah, I didn’t forget. It just didn’t fit in this context.”

  “Oh, right. I guess not.”

  Julian’s shoulders dropped some, and there was a hint of a smile on his face.

  Sugar leaned right up next to Julian. He tensed up, but only for a second. He seemed to expect physical contact from Sugar, and he’d learned to accept it, like any normal, warm-blooded guy would. Could have just been that streak of arrogance that everyone seemed to like to point out to me, but sometimes, it seemed that hanging out with us was better than any of those intense therapy sessions he went through with the doctors. Sometimes, it seemed good old interaction and joking around with friends was the thing the guy needed most. It was good therapy for him, and for us too. Julian wasn’t the kin
d to warm himself into the hearts of people or spark up fun at a party, but he was definitely someone Sugar and I liked to hang with.

  I walked around and sat next to Julian. Sugar leaned against him on the other side, and the three of us sat and stared out at the nicely manicured grounds. We were mismatched in so many ways, but there was something, a sort of kinship, between us all. Something we desperately needed. Something that made sense to us, and while we didn’t know it then, something that would change each of us forever.

  Chapter 6

  Considering the afternoon sun was beating down pretty hard, a surprising amount of staff and residents had shown up for the stupid wiffle ball game. Julian had pulled on a red cap and stuck a chair under the massive mulberry tree, which I knew the name of only because of the silkworms we raised in the fifth grade. Our teacher would send us out of class to pick leaves from the mulberry tree to feed them. Raising silkworms in class was cool and it kept my attention, so I’d learned the name of the tree. The mulberry on the grounds was one of the few sources of shade on the entire property.

  Someone had created makeshift bases out of rubber mats. Sugar was huddled with our team; the starlet, the hamburger heiress, the self-made businessman with the stick up his ass, the permanent frowner, and Carl, an older guy who had a paunch that made him look pregnant. The other team consisted of three nurses and three ward assistants, including my good buddy, Lawson, who looked as if he could chew a wiffle ball as easily as a Cheerio. Nurse J., as we called him because he had a name with too many syllables to ever pronounce correctly, looked as if he’d played ball in school with the way he was practice swinging the plastic bat like it was the real thing. Nurse Greene, the woman who was usually sitting at the front desk to take all our complaints, outweighed the wiffle ball by only a few pounds, but something told me, she could be their secret weapon. The other nurse, Nurse Simmons, was already dripping sweat down her t-shirt. I didn’t give her more than fifteen minutes before she pulled up a spectator’s chair next to Julian. The other two ward assistants were only part-time workers, and I’d never learned their names. But the new guy, the one Julian seemed worried about, was nowhere in sight. I hadn’t seen the guy yet.