Commander Cream #13

The knock on my window instantly woke me.   Dim red letters across the room indicated that it was 2:53 am.  The blurred face in my window was my best friend Samantha.  She could have just told me to meet her somewhere.  During the summers I never had a curfew, so she didn’t need me to sneak out.  But Samantha loved the intoxication of secrecy.  She also loved the intoxication of very potent, illegal drugs. 
 
I had known Samantha for years.  We had been best friends since we were twelve.  She helped me find my footing in a new school.  Three years later we were basically inseparable.  Our first flight was together- to Las Vegas with her grandfather the professional gambler. We had summited mountains together- just the two of us urging eachother on. We had made plans for the road trip we’d take the next summer when I turned sixteen- we’d drive through Chicago, up to my grandma’s farm, and finally to Boston.  Samantha was old for her fifteen years.  I was very young for mine.  I was sheltered by my protective older siblings.  Samantha, an only child, experimented enough to make up for her lack of siblings.
 
Samantha was my Polaris: although I was friends with other people, I trusted her to guide me through the storms and clouds of adolescent friendships.  When we were fourteen, I began to see Samantha change.  The group wasn’t the open, happy group I had joined when I became friends with Samantha.  There were new people, people who eyed me with hungry eyes and whispered suggestions that I was too shocked to react to.  My mute refusal of this or that drug merited sly smiles and derisive chuckles.  A sharp look from Samantha quelled even the most insistent pusher.  I loved her even more. 
 
I pulled the screen from my window.  Her arm draped around a boy I didn’t recognize, Samantha gestured with her free hand.  “Come out, the night’s fine,” she slurred.  I glanced at her hands.  There was a bottle in one hand.  There was a small glass pipe in the other.  So.  Not just marijuana tonight.  Catching her eye, I noticed the dilated pupils.  Her hands were twitching.  Meth was the drug tonight.  
 
A sheltered, non-drinking, non-smoking, fifteen year old probably should not be able to identify drug use in their best friend at 3:00 am. 
 
The boy grinned at me.  It made me feel naked in spite of my tank top and pajama pants.  He reached through the window and grabbed my arm.  “Come on, I know someone you should meet.”  I looked frantically at Samantha.  She frowned and shook her head.  “Not this one, she’s clean.”  He let go of my arm, but he didn’t stop grinning. 
 
I felt safe around Samantha.  Nothing could ever hurt me when she was around.  But there was a point when Samantha was physically present, but she wasn’t there.  It had happened one night earlier in the summer.  I left as soon as I could, but fear followed me home.  From the looks of it, this night would not be any different.
 
“I can’t come Samantha.  Maybe you should stay here too.  We’ll go out tomorrow.”  The boy started to stir angrily, but Samantha jumped in first.  “You prissy little bitch!  You can’t stop me.  I’m so sick of defending you.  Either come out tonight, or I won’t see if you want to come out ever again.” Her hands curled into fists around the bottle and the pipe.  She bristled like an angry cat.
 
Methamphetamine users tend towards outbursts and paranoia.  I had never seen either from Samantha.  Her sudden fury caught me off guard.  She was my best friend. She was my guardian. 
 
I couldn’t say anything.  With a snort of anger, Samantha turned and stalked off.  The boy paused for a speculative look and then joined her.  I slumped to the floor.  My north star, my guiding light was gone.