I could fax you a copy of my driver's license....

Sunday, April 17, 2005, 10:00pm
Steve's house

My phone rings. The number comes up as unavailable.

"Hello?"

"Hey." It's Lila.

Shit. I've never had such a hard time breaking all ties with a girl.

"Hey," I say, testily.

"I just wanted to say goodbye."

This doesn't sound good. At all.

"Wh- where are you going?"

"Rehab."

"When?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"That's good news! Wait. Did something happen?"

She sighs. "Trey and I were on our way to buy some..."

"Coke?"

"Mm-hmm. And he got pulled over for an expired sticker, and the cop smelled pot, so he searched us."

"Oh Jesus, Lila. Why did he smell pot?"

"We were smoking."

"In the CAR!?"

"I don't need a lecture!"

"I know."

"I had a joint in a pack of cigarettes, so they arrested me."

"Shit!"

"And Trey..."

"What about him?"

"He had an ounce on him. And he's been arrested before."

"Holy shit! Is he going to jail?"

"Probably. He's got a lawyer."

"And you?"

"I got a public defender. He got me a deal where if I go to rehab, they'll drop the charges. So I made up my mind that I'm gonna get clean."

"That's awesome. I'm so proud of you, Lila."

"Really?"

"Of course! How long are you going for?"

"Fourteen days."

"Cool. Are you still working at that dentist's office?"

"Yeah, he's being really cool about it."

"Great!"

"Steve?"

"Hm?"

"Could I ask you a big favor?"

"What's that."

"A HUGE one?"

"Why do I get the feeling I'm not gonna like this?"

"I wanna see you before I go."