“You know I don’t.”
Lucky placed her cheek back down against the floor. She spoke to the ground in front of her.
“I can’t do it, Bon. I need something.”
Do what? Her eyes darted over Lucky’s prostrate form. Then she thought of Nicky’s body in her arms, her pale blue lips, and understood.
“You don’t need that stuff,” she said.
Lucky curled into herself and moaned.
“My stomach’s cramping.”
“That’s normal,” murmured Bonnie. “It will pass.”
She had no idea what was normal. She had never been drunk or done a drug in her life, let alone had to go through whatever Lucky was experiencing right now.
“Where’s your phone?” Bonnie asked.
“Why?”
“I want to look something up.”
“Use yours.”
“Mine’s a flip, it doesn’t do that.”
“God, you’re weird,” groaned Lucky.
Bonnie smiled, just slightly. She still had an attitude; that was a good sign.
“What’s your passcode?”
“Nicky’s birthday.”
Bonnie gave Lucky a little pat of recognition without saying anything. It was typical Lucky, showing love in the most covert of ways. She went and got the phone from the living room, then glanced at the time on the home screen. She just needed to get Lucky into bed, then she could get back to the gym in time to spar and come right back for her. At her touch, the phone screen lit up with a series of messages from someone called Troll Doll.
where are you
seriously. answer your phone
okay im sorry i took your photo lol
bitch
did you leave for ny already???
i’m really raelly sorry pls talk to me
Bonnie came back into the bathroom to find Lucky scrunched into an even tighter ball.
“What’s a Troll Doll?”
Lucky groaned again.
“Whoever they are,” said Bonnie, “they’re intense.”
Lucky lifted her head and used seemingly the last of her effort to give a pale, wolfish smile.
“You have no idea.”
Bonnie dismissed the messages and opened the search engine on Lucky’s phone, hovering with her thumbs over the keyboard. She didn’t even know what to ask. She looked at Lucky’s white face, the dark half-moons under her eyes. She typed in stopping drinking and other stuff. Tips from a rehab facility automatically popped up. Did Lucky need to go to rehab? How much would that cost? Bonnie wished Avery was there; she was decisive as an axe.
“Should we call Avery?” she asked.
“No!” cried Lucky with surprising force.
“But she’s better at this,” said Bonnie, a child’s whine of fear creeping into her voice. She cleared her throat. “She can help.”
“She already thinks I’m a fuckup.”
Bonnie knit her brows.
“I think you just remind her of her,” she said.
And, more concerningly, of Nicky. Though she didn’t want to say that part, didn’t even want to think it. Bonnie glanced back at the phone.
“This says to drink plenty of fluids and eat fruits and vegetables.”
