Chapter 3

Carter unlocked his dorm room door and stepped inside. The noise startled Leon, still in bed. “What the...” Leon muttered and opened his eyes. “Where have you been?”

“With Valerie.”

“Dude — you turned a third date into an all-nighter?”

“Yeah.”

“What time is it?”

“Quarter after seven. Valerie has to work at eight so she kicked me out.”

“Things are moving pretty fast for you,” Leon remarked.

“I live like I type — fast and with a lot of mistakes.”

Leon laughed. “I hope Valerie isn’t a big mistake.”

“Right. Don’t wait up for me tonight. We’re getting together again for dinner and then hanging out.”

“I never have nor never will wait up for you, bro.”

“I gotta shower,” Carter said, “and then maybe do some laundry.”

“I’m gonna go back to sleep.”

Carter sat alone in the cafeteria with his lunch tray before him. A willowy girl with long blonde hair approached. “Carter — I saw Leon in your dorm’s study lounge and he said you’d be here.”

“Margeaux — what do you want?”

“May I sit?”

He made a hand gesture that meant, please do. “How’s your headache?” he asked.

“Much better. Carter — even though we’re no longer dating, I’d like to think we’re still friends.”

“I harbor no ill will toward you,” he replied.

“I know you and Valerie are hitting it off — especially after last night.”

“Yeah, we really clicked,” he replied. “Margeaux — what’s on your mind?”

“I have some information about Valerie I need to share with you — as one friend to another.”

“What kind of information?”

“I’m not telling you this because I’m jealous or angry with you for dating one of my roommates. We broke up, it was a mutual decision and we agreed neither of us holds any sway over who the other wants to see.”

“Margeaux — can you get to the point?”

“Carter — Valerie is not well. I’m sorry to be the one to tell you.”

“Don’t you think this is something Valerie should be the one to tell me?”

“If I could trust her to — yes. Carter — she’s psychotic ... insane.”

He regarded her slack-jawed. “How ... how can you say that? How do you know?”

“A few weeks ago I had one of my migraines and nothing to treat it. I was alone in the unit, so I went looking in the other girls’ rooms for some aspirin or Tylenol. When I looked in Valerie’s room I didn’t find any aspirin, but I did find a prescription of hers. I didn’t know what it was, so I looked it up online. She has a prescription for an anti-psychotic, Carter.”

“What business did you have prying into Valerie’s private affairs?” he asked.

“You’ve never had a migraine, Carter. You can’t know how desperate I get. I looked it up to see if it could help me.”

“Are you telling me that you’d self-medicate from someone else’s prescription?”

“I was that desperate, Carter. I realized it wouldn’t help me, so I put the pills back where I found them. Later, when I was feeling better I found them again and Googled the name of the doctor on the label — a psychiatrist in Tonawanda.”

“I know Valerie is from the Buffalo area. Do you remember the name of the drug?”

“No. I didn’t write it down.”

He shook his head. “Margeaux, I cannot believe you would pry into someone’s personal belongings.”

“I was worried for her and now I’m worried for you, Carter. I know you think I’m high-maintenance and a handful. Think about what it would be like dating someone with bipolar disorder — talking her off the ledge on a regular basis. That’s one of the afflictions this drug is used to treat.”

“Valerie has been nothing but a bubbly pleasure,” he replied. “Don’t tell me you’ve seen her in a depressive mode.”

“I can’t say I have, Carter. I really don’t know her that well. We travel in different circles and only share the same unit. She keeps to herself and so do I. I suspect she has depressive swings. Have you noticed the scars on her forearm?” Margeaux ran her fingers along the underside of her forearm from her wrist to her elbow.

“No, I haven’t.”

“Cut marks.”

“Are you telling me Valerie cuts herself?”

“She has some here, too.” Margeaux pointed to her left biceps. “I know what cut marks look like. My sister used to cut herself.”

“You’re only speculating about bipolar disorder. Anti-psychotics treat more than bipolar disorder.”

“Yes — they’re also used to treat psychosis and serious depression. Carter — believe me — I’m telling you this so you’re forewarned. I wouldn’t have come to you if I hadn’t found those pills. I would’ve been happy for you and for Valerie. Now, I’m concerned.”

“I’m sure you are, Margeaux. I really wish I had heard this from Valerie.”

“I told you what I came here to say. Good luck, Carter.”

“Thanks...” He watched Margeaux head for the door.

Carter tossed the uneaten portions of his lunch and headed back to his dorm. He stopped in the study lounge and spotted his roommate. “Did Margeaux find you?” Leon asked.

“Yes she did. She dropped a bombshell on me.”

“What sort of bombshell?”

“She told me Valerie has a prescription for an anti-psychotic.”

“Holy shit. Does that mean you’re dating a crazy girl?”

“I don’t know what it means.”

“How did Margeaux come by this information?”

“She had a migraine and was rummaging through the other girls’ rooms. She said she was looking for aspirin or Tylenol but I suspect she really was looking for something stronger.”

“Like Vicodin?”

“For example. She found pills in Valerie’s room and looked them up online. I asked her if she remembered the name of the drug, but she didn’t. If she had I could’ve looked it up myself.”

“Geez — this makes hairy pits look like nothing,” Leon remarked.

“For a point of reference — we have resolved the hairy pits issue.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’ll confront her,” Carter replied. “I really wish Valerie had volunteered this.”

“Maybe she would’ve once you knew each other better. This is why I don’t rush into dates, Carter.”

“Oh, for sure you don’t. You have elevated not rushing to an art form. Question is ... hypothetically speaking...”

“I don’t speak hypothetical,” Leon retorted.

“Don’t be a wise-ass. Hypothetically speaking, would one broach a subject like this before or after sex?”

“Oh, after. That way you’ve been laid one more time before hitting the silk.”

“You are a charmer,” Carter replied, “always looking out for Number One.” He drew in a breath and sighed. “I agree ... but for different reasons.”

Carter lay beside Valerie in her narrow bed. “Turn the lights out?” she asked.

“Not yet,” he replied.

“Carter — is something wrong? All evening you’ve seemed a bit distracted ... detached. Even when we were making love ... not that I have anything to complain about...”

“Valerie — I need to talk to you about something.”

“What is it?”

He drew in a breath and released it slowly. “Today when I was at lunch Margeaux came to me. She said she had information ... about you.”

“What information?”

“That you have a prescription for an anti-psychotic.”

Valerie’s jaw dropped. “How ... how did she know?”

“She told me that a while back she had a migraine and was looking through your room ... and through Jess’s and Maria’s ... for something to take for it and she found the pills.”

“Oh, that sounds so Margeaux. What else did she say?”

“That she thinks she has seen scars on your arms from cutting.”

“What did you say?”

“I told her I would’ve preferred to have heard it from you.”

Valerie closed her eyes and took a couple calming breaths. “Of course, I was going to tell you. The right moment hadn’t come up.”

“You mean — Margeaux is right?”

“I’m going to be fully honest with you, Carter. I am mentally ill.”

“You have a mental illness?”

“I have schizophrenia,” she replied. “The pills she found control it. You don’t have to worry, Carter. As long as I take my medication, I am fully healthy, happy and functional.”

“What about the scars?”

Valerie held out her forearm and ran her fingers across a number of thin, parallel scars. “These are old. I stopped that practice years ago.”

“You’re sure? You’re not harming yourself today?”

“No, I am not. I’ll tell you the whole story. About when I was going through puberty, my mood started to change. I know now I was going into a depression. I became anhedonic ... I stopped listening to music ... I reached the point where I felt nothing — nothing but endless gloom. I cut myself in order to feel anything ... pain, anything. I realize now I should’ve gone to my parents for help, but a twelve-year-old doesn’t think that way.”

“Oh, understood. I was twelve not that many years ago. You hid the cutting from them?”

She nodded. When I was fourteen I had a psychotic episode. I had been hearing voices for about six months prior but was able to push them aside. No longer — it was full blown schizophrenia with hearing voices, looping thoughts, delusions, paranoia ... the works. I couldn’t hide that from them. They committed me and I spent several weeks in a mental hospital until they worked out what I had and how to treat it. My doctor is wonderful. She put me on my present prescription and the symptoms receded. It was a terrifying experience, Carter. I knew I was going mad and I had no escape ... except one.”

He felt his eyes filling. “Valerie — I feel so sorry for you.”

“Don’t. Don’t feel sorry for me, Carter. Feel happy for me, because I’m one of the fortunate ones. My doctor found a prescription that not only is effective but one that I tolerate well. Many who suffer what I have experience terrible side effects from the drugs. For them it often becomes a choice of being crazy off drugs or being sick on them.”

“That’s why we hear about people going off their meds,” he remarked.

“Correct. The side effects I’ve experienced have been minor and temporary. I take my medication faithfully, Carter, because I have no desire to have another episode. And, I haven’t had one. I’ve been on this drug for five years without a relapse. My doctor is very pleased with my progress.”

“Then, I am happy for you.”

“It’s also why I don’t do drugs or drink alcohol. I even avoid grapefruit. I don’t want to risk anything interacting with or interfering with a drug that not only saved my sanity but my life.”

“Five years. You said you were fourteen when this happened?”

“Right. I’m twenty-one, now. It took my doctor a couple years of tinkering with meds before coming up with this prescription.”

“You’re a sophomore like me and I’m only nineteen. You could buy liquor!”

“I can but I won’t. I took the rest of my junior year in high school off to recuperate — doctor’s orders. Then, I repeated my junior year — and made honor roll. After I graduated — with honors — I took a year off before applying for college — also doctor’s orders. The longer I go without a relapse, the more confidence I have — and my doctor has — with the prescription I’m taking, and the less likely it is I’ll have another episode. The drug makes me perfectly normal, Carter.”

“God, I hope not,” he replied.

She giggled. “Okay ... normal by my own, abnormal standards.”

“Does this have anything to do with your synesthesia?” he asked.

“No ... I don’t think so. The drug doesn’t affect it. The schizophrenia is due to a chemical imbalance in my brain. The synesthesia is organic — a mis-wiring.”

“Right — wire A connected to post B.”

“Something like that. I know the drug is merely suppressing what’s underneath, waiting for an opportunity to surface. I still hear the voices but now they’re whispers and murmurs. I know they’re there but they don’t bother me. I take power naps, Carter.”

“Power naps?”

“I’ll sit in a chair and doze off for fifteen minutes or so. When I’m in that twilight state between wakefulness and sleep is when I hear the voices, though they don’t make any sense. I also experience looping thoughts at that time. When I wake up, I can’t remember details, but I know it happened.”

“Like knowing you had a dream but you can’t remember it.”

“Exactly. Carter — you must promise me one thing. If you ever are with me when I have another episode — immediately call 911 and get me committed. It’s a matter of life and death. I’m convinced if I ever have another episode, without immediate attention someone will die. Most likely it will be me, but it might be someone else. Promise me.”

“I ... I promise. Now you’re scaring me.”

“Good — that means you understand how serious this is. I live with this on a daily basis, Carter. I’m convinced — and, so is my doctor or she never would’ve agreed for me to go to school so far from home — that the odds of me having another episode are very, very small.”

“But, the odds are non-zero,” he added.

“Right. Now, I need you to be honest with me. Does this change how you feel about me?”

“Answer one question first — were you really going to volunteer this to me?”

“Oh, Carter — of course I was ... when I thought the moment was right. Margeaux sort of forced my hand.”

“I believe you. This does change how I feel about you — but it doesn’t change how much I love you. I realize you may be more fragile than I thought.”

Tears filled her eyes. “I needed to hear that. Believe me, Carter — I feel like a weight’s been lifted. I know I’ll be at ease knowing you know. So will my folks, and so will my doctor.”

“Does anyone else here know about this?”

“Well — obviously Margeaux,” Valerie replied.

“She only knows you have the pills. She can only speculate why. Please don’t be too angry with her, Valerie. She told me she wasn’t disclosing what she knew out of vengeance or spite, but out of concern.”

“And, you believe her?”

“Let’s say I’m taking what she says at face value.”

“You’re being more charitable than I would be, Carter. This wasn’t the first time she’s done something like this.”

“I think I know her well enough having dated her for a semester.”

“You only dated her,” she said. “I have to live with her.”

“I’ll confess I let some of this slip to Leon — my roommate. I doubt it’ll go any further from his lips.”