Phoebe Berman's Gonna Lose It(65)

“Did you say something?” I ask the front of the car.

There’s a ringing in my ears. I can’t make out their responses.

“Do you hear that?”

I fiddle with the broken window lever to no avail. I need air.

I can’t breathe.

Relax, I tell myself. You’re just high.

Am I, though? This feels more like a medical emergency. Could I have contracted something from Teacher Rob’s root beer?

I open my email, where I have an old message from Sandy in my saved mail folder. After the time I got too high and sent myself to the emergency room, she wrote a mantra for me to recite should it ever happen again: I am not dying. I am under the influence of marijuana, and I am safe. This is a temporary feeling. It will pass.

Sent from my iPhone

I repeat the mantra over and over in my head until I start to believe it. I am not dying. I am just high, that’s all. I am as safe as I can be with Teacher Rob behind the wheel. This feeling will pass, just like it did last time.

Only…this feels different from last time. Whatever kind of weed DJ Spider’s friend grows on his roof must be stronger than what I’m used to. Maybe “reefer” is a different drug entirely. One that has the potential to kill me.

It was probably laced with something.

It’s very possible that my organs are shutting down.

I open my front-facing camera to search for any visible signs of distress. My eyes are alarmingly red, which could be a result of the joint.

It could also be a sign of something far worse.

I google “eyes extremely red and shortness of breath.”

Pulmonary edema. A buildup of fluid in the lungs that makes it difficult to breathe. Lack of oxygen may cause blood vessels in the eye to dilate and appear red.

Just as I had feared.

“I think I’m dying,” I announce.

“Good stuff, huh?”

There’s a pain in my side. The tambourine. Was the ache there before the tambourine, though? I can’t remember.

I google “red eyes shortness of breath pain in my side.”

Liver failure.

“Maybe I should go to the hospital,” I suggest.

“Listen to this, Phoebe.” Teacher Rob turns up the volume. “It’s our new demo. Tell me, what do you hear?” The thump, thump, thump of the electric bass gets my blood pumping. Blood. There is so much of it in my body. I am nothing more than a sack of skin and blood and organs. I study my hand, squinting hard enough to make out each vein.

“Do you hear the synth, Phoebe?”

I google “why are my veins so huge.”

Deep vein thrombosis.

Blood clots.

My head starts to ache.

Aneurysm.

“Here we are.” We pull up to the bus stop. DJ Spider opens the door and exits the car. “How about you come sit up here next to me, Phoebe?”

I open my door. Only instead of slipping into the front passenger seat, I begin to walk away from the car. “This is perfect!” I yell to Teacher Rob. “Thank you for the ride!”

I ignore his protests, walking until I can no longer make out the outline of his Prius. I don’t stop until I spot the backlit menu of a Carl’s Jr. drive-thru on the corner. I order a double cheeseburger, fries, and a milkshake before picking up my phone and calling for aid.



* * *



—

I struggle to lift myself into the passenger seat of Jonathan’s truck.

“You have to put the cheeseburger down first. Here.” He extends a hand, and I place the burger in his open palm.

“Thank you for getting me.” I successfully buckle myself in. “I got you a vanilla milkshake.”

“Oh, hell yes.” He looks at me with a raised eyebrow. “Where is it?”

I look down at my empty hands, mentally retracing my steps. “I have no idea.”

“Phoebe, you’re stoned.” Jonathan cackles, and the sound heals something within me. I no longer feel weighed down by the sheer amount of blood pumping through my body. I feel weightless.

“I smoked reefer,” I say with a laugh.

“Isn’t that just what old people call weed?”

“Maybe. Whatever it was, I never want to do it again.”

“Let’s get you home.” Jonathan blasts the AC and drives us out of the Carl’s Jr. parking lot.

I take a deep breath, curling myself into a ball in the passenger seat and leaning into the comfort of Jonathan’s presence.

For the short ride home, it’s easy to pretend that everything’s okay.





20


Thursday

(Thirteen Days Left)

“Is it too much?” I direct my question toward the bathroom, projecting my voice over the sound of running water.

Meg perches on the ledge of my tub, shaving her legs under the steady stream of the faucet. She looks at me through the open door, giving my outfit a once-over. “It’s the perfect amount.”

I took Nora’s advice and decided to show off my assets for Noah’s birthday party tonight. I admire the red corset in my full-length mirror, amazed by how well it pairs with my going-out jeans and red kitten heels. Tonight will be the first time Finn sees me in something other than my teacher clothes, and I want to make it count.