Not Even for Her | Teen Ink

Not Even for Her

April 21, 2013
By hannahbanana999 GOLD, Holmdel, New Jersey
hannahbanana999 GOLD, Holmdel, New Jersey
11 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
“Before you criticize someone, you should walk a mile in their shoes. That way when you criticize them, you are a mile away from them and you have their shoes.” - Jack Handey


Her name was Lydia and she was the most beautiful in the entire school and she just so happened to sit two desks to the left and one desk forward from me in Spanish class. She even knew my name. Well, she knew my Spanish name – Ricardo – but I was a step above most. She often asked me for the homework or how to conjugate “tener”. While she probably never thought of me, Lydia was all I thought of. I had had a crush on that girl ever since the eight grade and any sort of contact with her was better than none. It was our final year of high school and I decided it was necessary to focus all my time on making myself known to her. I started dressing nicer – no more sweatpants, and occasionally a shirt and tie. I got butterflies in my stomach when she said I looked nice – we were forming a relationship. I had my haircut and styled it every morning. I am sure that it was this effort that convinced Lydia to give me a chance. She confided in me that she wanted to go to a college party that she had been invited to, but she was scared to go alone. I gleefully accompanied her, making sure to wear her favorite tie and gel my hair in the way she liked. I pulled up into her driveway in my beat-up truck and texted her. I swear, when Lydia opened her front door, angels sang and a spotlight followed her footsteps towards my car. I quickly remembered my manners and opened her car door for her. She giggled when I complimented her and she approved of my song choices – the night could not have been going any better.
We arrived at the frat house after 53 blissful minutes and right away, I noticed that Lydia was nervous. I took a risk and grabbed her hand. “We don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”
She just smiled at me, “are you kidding me? I was just wondering if I should’ve worn something that made me look – older!” She hopped out of the car before I could open the door for her and ran inside. I followed, making sure not to look too eager. Luckily, the frat guys let us in even though they knew that we were only in High School. We had a great time. She had a few drinks, but I was driving so I stayed away. It was around 2:00 am and I decided that it was time to go home, but when I returned with our jackets, she was gone. I spent 20 minutes scouring the house, but I couldn’t find her. I started asking around for the cute brunette I walked in with. Finally, some guy said that he saw her go out the back door with his buddy. At first I was mad – I thought that we were on a date, but then I was worried. Lydia should not have been out alone with a college guy. I ran out side and saw her sitting on the ground next to the said boy. They were unmistakably high – but on what?
“Richie!! Baby!! Join us!”
“Lyd – what did you take?”
“Oh – nothing! I do it all the time! C’mon!”
I was scared, but I wanted to impress her. Whatever this drug was – it got her to hang out with a stranger, so maybe…I sat down and the frat guy – named Ted – pulled out a needle. “First hit’s free, man!”
I hesitated, but Lydia said “Oh, come one Richie! Just do it.” She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek and that was more convincing than one would think. I held out my arm and let Ted – well, you get it. Anyway, Ted got bored and went back inside to see if he could pick up a girl with the confidence that drugs can produce. So Lydia took a few more hits of whatever Ted had given of us, and soon she was completely gone. My head was fuzzy and I was not enjoying my first time, but she was my main concern. It was clear that she had come dangerously close to overdosing, but I was under the influence as well so I was of little help to her. I carried her back to the car and turned on the music. Lydia fell asleep and I stayed awake to make sure that she was all right. Around 6:00am, I was sure that the effect had worn off so I turned on the car and started the drive back home. She woke up as I pulled into her driveway. “Heh – that was some party. Crazy night.”
“Sure, Lydia.”
“I heard there’s going to be another one in two weeks – we should go! Ted said that he could get – “
“Lydia, do you actually have any idea what happened last night? You almost died! And I couldn’t help you!”. I was getting angry – how could she have been so naïve!
“Ugh. It’s no big deal, I’ve done worse…”
“And what if I hadn’t been there to take care of you!”
“I can take care of myself! I’m not a child!”
“Clearly you can’t take care of yourself! And what’s worse is that I came to keep you safe and I couldn’t even help you!”
“No one forced you to take it…”
“No, you’re right. That was my choice –” Lydia got out of the car, done with the conversation. She didn’t want to be told what to do. That Monday, in Spanish class, I had a different take on Lydia – she wasn’t so perfect anymore. My five year image of her was shattered and I felt my heart break a little bit. We never did get together. We were from two different worlds and I had to accept that. I could gel my hair all I wanted, but I was just a dorky senior with dreams of dating the prettiest girl in school. I had my shot, but I wouldn’t say that I blew it. I just grew up. I found my limit. Getting involved with Lydia would have led me down a dark road. The experience I had on drugs was traumatic enough to keep me away from them. I haven’t shot up since and I can thank Lydia for that.


The author's comments:
2/8

Similar Articles

JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This article has 0 comments.