Warning

May contain sensitive material including adult language and situations, strong sexual content and violence

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Chapter Eight – Depressed

You can always trust your inner feelings
’cause they always tell the truth
Where did it get you, then your analyzing
Just do what feels right for you

If you take life as a crazy gamble
Throw your dice take your chance
You will see it from the different angle
And you too can join the dance

Make it real not fantasy
Fantasy

-Make it Real
Scorpions

It turned out they had traveled several miles in the wrong direction, before Matt had conceded that he was lost and parked in a random lot. Still plenty buzzed from the night before, they found the nearest gas station and got directions back to I-75. Within an hour, they were on their way back home.

“I wonder what happened to her.” Steve thought aloud after they had traveled for some time.

“Who knows man.” Matt replied.

“I’m kind of worried.” Steve admitted. “She called the other day and said everything was cool. She was about to leave.”

“You worry too much Slam.” Matt admonished. “Probably car problems or something. I’m sure she’ll call and tell you all about it after we get back.”

“I hope so.”

They decided breakfast was in order and stopped to eat near Flint. After that, they made the rest of the trip home only stopping at rest areas when needed. They were back in northern Michigan by noon. Steve didn’t bother going inside at Matt’s place. Instead, he simply jumped in his car and drove home.

“How was the show?” His mother greeted him as he came in the door.

“It was great, Mom.” He lied. He had no idea how the concert was. He’d only been there for a few minutes of it and had only a vague recollection of what he had seen. “I really need a shower.”

After cleaning up, Steve slunk into his room and put some music on the turntable. He crashed before the record ended. He had dreams of chasing an ephemeral Roxy through a vast parking lot of cars. He could see her but could never reach her and though he tried to cry out her name, his voice was not strong enough to get her attention. Finally, while he looked on, she got in a car with a couple friends and left. He specifically remembered the tear in her eye as she gazed out the window, still looking for him.

When he woke again, it was close to midnight. He went to the kitchen and found some leftovers then sat and watched TV with his mom, changing the subject anytime she asked about the concert or Roxy. At around three, he decided he was still tired and went to his room to sleep some more.

Steve didn’t know when he could expect a call from Roxy. If her ruse was camping, there may indeed have been camping involved, and it could be several days before she got to a phone. Still, he could think of little else but her, and even had problems concentrating on his guitar practice. He thought about calling her cousin Trina, but decided that she would probably not know anything before Roxy had a chance to call him as well.

He became very depressed, spending the days thinking of her and the nights fantasizing about her. After two days, he couldn’t imagine why she hadn’t called and began to fear the worst. Had she decided he wasn’t worth the effort? Had she blown him off? Worse, had she been in some horrible accident?

Finally, after three days of waiting with no call from Roxy, He decided that he would call her cousin. He would simply tell her he wanted to know if Roxy was all right or not, that she could call him back if she wished. Whatever else happened, he just wanted to know that she was okay.

Steve dug out the piece of paper with Trina’s number on it and dialed the phone.

“Hello?” A voice answered after two rings. It was a woman.

“Is Trina there?” he asked politely.

“Hang on.” There was commotion in the background for half a minute or more, then another voice came on the line.

“Hello?”

“Trina?” Steve asked.

“Yea, who’s this?”

“I’m Steve, a friend of Roxy...er Angela’s. I was given this number to call if I ever really needed to talk to her.’

“Oh, hello Slam.” She said pleasantly. “I was going to call you but she never gave me your number, so I’ve kind of been waiting for you to call.”

That didn’t bode well, Steve thought. She was waiting for him to call?

“So what’s up?” Steve asked. “Is she okay? We were supposed to meet at the Scorpions concert. I never found her there.”

“She’s fine as far as that goes.” Trina informed. Steve was immediately relieved. “But I’m afraid I have some bad news, Slam.” She went silent then for a moment.

“Yea?” he prompted.

“Yea, well, um...” She started. “Roxy has been placed in a foster home near Mancelona.”

“What! Why?”

“Well, I guess her dad found your number on their phone bill.” She told him. “Then he searched her camping stuff and found the shit she was planning to wear to the concert. That’s why she never showed up. She was busted a few minutes after she talked to you last week. He shipped her out the next day.”

“Oh man!” Steve exclaimed. “So how do I get in touch with her?”

“You don’t.” Trina said. “The foster home has orders not to let you two communicate whatsoever. She’s never to see you again.”

Steve was floored. Never? What the fuck? Who the hell were these people to say they couldn’t ever see one another again?

“But don’t worry.” Trina appeased. “I’ll help however I can. Give me any messages you want to tell her. And give me your number and address so I can call or forward mail if I need to.”

“Wow.” Steve was amazed. “You would do that for us?”

“I’ll do it for Angela.” She said. “And to get whatever I can over on that dick she has for an old man.”

“Wow, thanks.” Steve said gratefully. He gave Trina his address and phone number and a brief message for Roxy, telling her how sorry he was he got her in this mess. Trina promised she’d have a letter out that afternoon.

He got off the phone and headed for his car. He drove the six miles into Boyne. He really needed to get wasted.