Page 41 of Broken Instrument

But I get where he’s coming from. The streets are empty as I make another left, heading toward Hadley’s place as the blinker’s clicking sound breaks the silence.

“Your dad’s a good guy, Mia. But when you’ve made so many shitty decisions and you’ve lied to yourself countless times, it’s easy to distrust your gut. To second guess everything you do. Because you don’t know if it’ll lead you back down the shitty hole you’ve worked so hard to claw out of. I think Bud was trying hard to clean up his life. Probably around the same time he started seeing you more.”

“Yeah? Well, look where it got him. He’s missing––”

“And I have no doubt he’s doing whatever he can to get back to you, despite whether or not you decide to screw up first. He wouldn’t want you putting your safety at risk, and he sure as hell wouldn’t want you taking whatever’s in your left hand.”

The blood drains from her face, and her grip tightens around the little bag I know is clutched inside.

“Did he know you were heading down the same path as him?”

She shakes her head, the movement subtle but just as poignant.

“Have you taken drugs before?” I ask.

Another subtle shake.

“You sure?”

Her chin dips slightly, though she refuses to meet my gaze.

“Do you wanna know how old I was when I tried that shit for the first time?”

Silence.

“Thirteen,” I tell her. “My mom had left her stash lying on the coffee table in our trailer. I popped a pill while she was strung out on the couch, and she didn’t even notice. Hell, maybe she didn’t care in the first place. But let me tell you something, Mia. Once was all it took. One time.” My throat goes dry at the memory. “One time for me to crave the numbness. The bliss of not caring. Of quieting the voices inside my head. One time for me to fuck myself up so bad, I lost everything in the long run. Everything.”

She peeks over at me, the light from the streetlight casting shadows along her young features. Hell, she’s just a child. A child with the power to completely wreck her world if she can’t channel her fire properly.

“Screwing up your life because you want to escape it or because you want to get the attention of someone who can make it better isn’t going to fix things, Mia. Trust me. I’ve been down that path. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.”

Her lower lip quivers as the softness of her voice fills the front seat. “I can’t sleep. I only wanted something to help me sleep.”

“What is it?” I ask but shake my head. “Actually, don’t answer that. It doesn’t matter what’s in the bag. Some people mess with drugs, and it doesn’t affect them. Not in the long run. They can use it recreationally and not bat an eye when they decide it’s time to quit and grow up. But it’s not what happened to your dad. And it’s not what happened to me. And don’t get me started on the fact you were putting your safety in jeopardy when it came to that asshole. You didn’t know the guy. You didn’t know if he was going to force himself on you if you went home with him then changed your mind. You didn’t know if he would slip you something to take advantage of you when you got to his place.”

Again, her arms tighten around her as the scenarios filter through her mind. She sniffles and leans her head against the window, defeated. “I wasn’t going to go home with him.”

“It was still stupid, Mia. I know it. And I know you know it too. Your mom, your aunt, and your dad care about you. They want you to be happy. And making decisions that’ll hurt you isn’t going to bring your dad back.”

Her eyes shine with unshed tears when she asks, “So what? What am I supposed to do?”

“Be you. The best version of Mia you can be. It’s all your dad wants. And if you can’t sleep? Talk to your mom. She’ll take you to get a prescription or something. Or your aunt,” I add. “She cares about you too.”

“She hates my dad,” Mia whispers, the words damn near killing me.

I shake my head. “She doesn’t hate your dad, Mia.”

“Yes, she does.”

“No,” I argue. “She hates that she loves your dad.”

She looks at me. Really looks at me. As if, for the first time ever, she’s trying to understand her aunt’s rocky relationship with her father instead of assuming shit.

“Why?” she whispers.

“It’s hard loving an addict.” I laugh and pull up to the curb in front of Hadley’s place. “Trust me. I can barely stand myself most days.”

“But you’re not doing that stuff anymore…”

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