Tara Kelly - Harmonic Feedback

That surprised me. I didn’t think they were that close.

“But you didn’t get a letter?” Kari asked him.

“I don’t have a computer.”

Roger made a right, and the bay glittered between rusty buildings. Trash, sleeping bags, and the skeletons of cars littered the gravel parking lots. A sour odor sifted through Roger’s cracked windows. It was strong enough to make me sick.

Two boarded-up houses sat at the end of the street. The pointy rooftops and intricate pillars made me think of princesses and frilly dresses. I bet someone cherished them a hundred years ago. Now they were graffiti-covered ghosts, like everything else around here.

Roger stopped in front of the pale green house. “I don’t see Scott’s car here.”

“Let’s go in anyway,” I answered, a shiver inching down my back. “We need to be sure.”

The four of us climbed out and walked toward an open window. The boards had been torn off, and a filthy sheet hung in their place.

Justin looked in all directions before peeking inside. “Hello?” he called. “I think I see someone.”

We followed him through the window. Bits of glass ripped the hem of my skirt, but I didn’t care.

Dim light revealed shredded floorboards and gouged walls. It smelled like rotting wood and piss. I had to breathe through my mouth to keep from gagging.

And then we saw it. A crumpled heap on the floor. Pale skin. Strands of purple hair.

Justin ran over to her, Roger cussed under his breath, and a small cry escaped from Kari. But I froze. My fingertips and toes went numb.

Roger ripped the sheet from the window to let in more light. Kari joined Justin and covered her mouth. I walked toward them slowly. Justin pulled a small flashlight from his pocket. He touched Naomi’s face, prying her eyes open and waving the light in them.

“Is she breathing?” Kari asked.

“Barely,” Justin said. He pressed his fingers against the inside of her wrist.

I knelt next to Naomi, my limbs shaking. She was lying on her back, one knee bent at an odd angle. Saliva dripped down her chin, and her lips were tinged blue under the neon light. I grabbed her hand. It was hot and clammy.

Justin pulled out his cell phone and dialed three numbers.

Kari squatted next to me, hiccuplike sounds coming from her throat. “Naomi…?” She touched her cheek. “She’s fucking burning up.”

Roger paced around us, talking fast. His words blurred together. I blocked them out, because they didn’t make sense. Naomi wasn’t going to die. She’d wake up and laugh at us. Tell us we were being ridiculous.

I squeezed her hand and brushed the damp hair off her forehead. “You can’t give up.”

“I just found my friend unconscious,” Justin said into the phone. “She’s burning up, her pulse is all over the place.” He listened for a few seconds, his eyes wide and furious. “I think she overdosed on speed, but I don’t know for sure. I just found her like this.” More seconds passed. “I don’t know!”

Kari cried into Naomi’s chest, begging her to wake up. “Please be okay,” she repeated over and over.

Their voices echoed around me. Too many words to process. I kept squeezing her hand, hoping she’d return the gesture. Nothing. I wiped the spit from her mouth with my sleeve and leaned toward her face. “You have to wake up so I can tell you what a dork I am. And you can laugh. You were the first person to give me a chance, and I’m sorry if I was mean to you at first. I thought you’d be like everyone else.” I stroked her hair. “But you aren’t like everyone else, Naomi. And someone will love you for who you are—I know they will. Because I love you.”

Justin and Roger yelled back and forth, trying to figure out the address.

Kari’s voice was muffled in her chest.

Justin checked her pulse again. “It’s still erratic.” He glanced at me and covered the phone. “They’re on their way. But I have to stay on the phone until they get here.”

A commotion erupted behind me. Someone yelled, and feet thudded against the floor. Roger and Scott wrestled each other near the window.

Justin tossed the phone at me and ran toward them. He pulled Scott off Roger and tried to force him to the ground. Scott was like a rabid animal, punching and shouting.

Everything in my stomach crept into my throat. I put the phone to my ear, trying to not throw up. “Hello?”

“Who is this?” the female voice asked.

“Drea.”

“Okay, Drea. Can you tell me what’s going on right now?”

“They’re fighting. My friend needs help. We can’t get her to wake up.”

“I know. We have an ambulance on the way. I need you to stay calm for me, okay? It’s the best way we can help your friend right now.”

The guys moved toward us, shuffling feet and swinging arms.

“What the hell is going on?” Scott hollered.

The voice on the phone kept saying my name. “Drea, I need you to tell me what you see. Who is fighting?”

I rocked back and forth, still clutching Naomi’s hand. “They won’t stop. Please make them stop.”

“Do they have weapons?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know.”

Kari grabbed the phone from me and started talking about Scott. The guys moved closer. Scott was fighting them to get to Naomi. I braced myself over her, preparing for impact. There was a loud thud. The floor shook beneath my knees. I glanced over to see Scott’s face a couple feet from mine. Justin and Roger pinned him to the ground, both struggling to keep him still.

“The cops are coming too,” Kari said, covering the phone.

“What did she take?” Justin asked Scott.

His face contorted, and his lips trembled. “She did a line before I left, and I took the rest with me. That’s it. She was fine.”

Justin leaned toward Scott’s ear, shoving his face harder into the floor. “What else did she have access to?”

“Nothing!” Scott’s eyes watered. He’d stopped fighting them. “I took everything with me because she doesn’t know when to stop sometimes. She was fine, man. She was fucking fine.”

Kari grabbed the flashlight, illuminating the ground near Naomi’s left hand. “Then what’s on the floor next to her?” she asked. A baggy filled with white powder was spilled a foot away—as if Naomi had dropped it when she fell.

Scott squeezed his eyes shut. “She must’ve found my stash. It was under the floorboards.”

Kari listened to Naomi’s chest. “I don’t hear anything,” she said into the phone. Mascara streamed down her cheeks. “What are we supposed to do?”

I kept Naomi’s limp hand in mine, telling her to get up. Telling her to fight.

More voices filled the room, and several people rushed at us. They were dressed in dark uniforms and carrying equipment. They yelled at me to move. I didn’t want to. I couldn’t let her go.

The room began to spin. Someone grabbed me from behind, prying my hand from Naomi’s.

“No pulse,” one of the paramedics said.

My head was against Justin’s chest. Police officers stood in front of us. Two of them talked to Scott. He sat on the floor, bawling like a baby. His words were distorted. Nothing made sense.

I tried to pull away, reaching for Naomi. I could see her pale hands between the boots of the paramedics. “She needs me!”

Justin’s breath hit my ear. He kept telling me to calm down—Naomi would fight this.

The paramedics scrambled, shouting things and passing equipment back and forth. One of them pushed on her chest. Justin tightened his grip on me.

Kari’s cries came from somewhere behind us. Roger sat with his face against his knees, his back shaking. Every second crawled by.

They carried Naomi off in a stretcher and loaded her into an ambulance. We followed them outside, but the police wouldn’t let us go. Sirens echoed down the street, taking her away.