Addicted

I said I did. I followed her down to the edge of the water. She walked along its edge before stopping and waving me over. I walked over and stood by her. A large sea turtle covered halfway in water was laying in the sand.

"They come here to lay eggs," she said. "Polihua means 'cove of eggs.' We're not allowed to touch them; they're endangered." She started down the beach along the water's edge. I followed her at a slow walk.

"If it was winter, we'd probably be able to see whales. That over there," she said, pointing across the water into the distance, "is Molokai Island. It's a little bigger than Lanai. More people, too."

"I can see why you'd want to keep this place a secret," I said.

"I hoped you'd like it," she said, smiling up at me. "I know you have a lot on your mind. I thought maybe it would help you figure stuff out the way it helps me."

"Thank you for sharing it with me," I said looking down at her.

I didn't know whether I'd ever met anyone so...sweet. She was like a kid. Ugh. No, bad example. She was just so nice, earnest, and willing to help. I thought about kissing her, but I didn't think that was why she'd brought me here.

We walked along the water in silence. She had taken off her shoes and was holding them in her hand. She pointed out an area near some rocks and suggested we go sit down. I followed her up and helped her spread the large beach towel she took out of her bag. She sat crossed legged on one side of the towel. I took my shoes off and sat next to her.

"Are you okay?" she asked me.

"I'm great."

"No, I mean... I woke you up so early today and you haven't had any of your..." She trailed off and shook her head. "I'm sorry," she said looking down. "I just read-"

"You read something?" I asked, cutting her off. Had someone leaked a rumor about my addiction?

"I did a little research about heroin addiction to try figure out what you were going through," she clarified.

I calmed down. I was jumping to conclusions. I was almost one hundred percent sure she didn’t know who I was; I needed to stop it.

"What did you find out?"

"That it's not just your mind that becomes addicted; it's your body, too," she said. "And, that opiates are the some of the hardest things to stop using."

"True, and true. I thought it was bullshit when I started, but look who was wrong," I said darkly.

"How long have you been using?"

"Coming up on a year, maybe," I said.

"How did it happen?"

"On tour. We got loaded almost every night. Our first major label album had done great. Whenever we got to a new city, the first thing we found out was where to get weed. We had a date in Philadelphia; after the show, we went back to our bus. One of the guys in the band, Jeffrey, let these guys come with us who said they could score us some weed. They gave us weed, but they also had dope."

"I hadn't been smoking that night, but I was drunk. One of the guys offered to get me high, and I let him shoot me up. I thought that would be the last time, but I was looking for dealers all of our next stops.

“When I got to LA, I found a doctor who I could get pure, pharmaceutical grade stuff from and an endless supply of needles. I started needing more and more, cutting people off and getting in trouble because I'd be too high to play." She hadn't interrupted me, so I kept going. I couldn't look at her telling her this stuff, but I could feel her blue eyes on me.

"I was already upset about how the band was getting, but when I started getting high, I stopped giving a fuck completely. In the beginning, I wrote most of our stuff, and they let us make the music we wanted to.

“Finally, before our European tour dates were announced, I left. They've been trying to get me back, but I can't do it. I can't make that shit they want us to make."

I almost kept going but stopped myself because I had said too much. I had almost told her about Kirsten, but even she wouldn't want to hear about that. She'd think I'd need to be put on the watch or something.

"If you were clean, would you go back to your band?"

"I don't want to get clean for them. I want it for me," I said, finally looking at her. She had turned her body so she was facing me. "Even if we never get back together, I still have to live with myself. People die from this shit. I don't want to go out like that," I admitted. I felt her hand wrap around mine and rest both of them on her crossed legs.

"If you'll let me, I'd really like to help you get better," she said. "I think it would be really sad if you went out like that, too."

Why, I wanted to ask her. What could she possibly gain from helping me? We had just met. We'd only known each other a few weeks.