Chasing Nirvana

Three

After Jimmy had me kicked out of the hospital, I called Scooter up. He asked me to meet him at a café called Rimmer's Coffee. The place was small and cosy, located along the back alley of some big commercial building. Low, orange lights floated above us, strung together by thin metal strings. Jars of cookies lined the window sills. Behind the barista, a blackboard with the drink menu written in cursive letters was mounted onto the wall. Saved for a few businessmen sitting at a table, sheets of papers spread out before them, and a middle aged woman ordering at the counter, the place was empty. Scooter ordered a cup of coffee, black with two extra shots, and I got myself a Coke. We chose a pair of seats towards the back of the café, overlooking a dumpster.

"I take it that you cut class?" Scooter asked as he took a sip of the coffee, and then grimacing as though he hated the taste of it. 

"Yeah."

"So what's the big hurry?"

"I need to know, Scooter," I said, leaning forward in my seat. "I need to know what is going on."

"With who? Jimmy?" he asked. "Have you gone to see her? Did you ask her if she was okay?"

I nodded.

"She kicked you out?"

I nodded again. He chuckled dryly.

"Lesson Number 1 – never ask someone on the verge of recovery from a suicide attempt if they're okay."

"What do you expect me to say then?" I scowled. "'Hi, Jimmy, good to see you trying to end your life'? Yeah, that'll go down with great with her."

"I didn't come here to be sassed by you, kid."

"I'm sorry," I apologized immediately. "I just want to know what's going with her, that's all."

"What do you mean?"

"You know...why would she try to kill herself all of a sudden? She seemed fine one minute, and then not the next. How do you go from sane to crazy in a matter of seconds?!"

To my great surprise, Scooter began to laugh.

"What?" I asked in annoyance. "What's so funny?"

"Look...look at you..." he said. "God...this is funny..."

I glared at him until he calmed down.

"Sorry, man," he shrugged with a grin. "You just looked so stressed..."

"So naturally you had to laugh."

"Alright, alright. No need to get so pissy with me. Listen, I've told you before, and I'll tell you again: Jimmy is not like other girls."

"I already know that," I told him irritably.

"Did you, really?" Scooter suddenly said as he leaned forward. His brown eyes, so common under normal circumstances, flashed dangerously as he spat out the words. "Did you know the number of times she's been sent to recovery centre for kids? Did you already that she was supposed to be on medication for her depression but hasn't taken it in months? Did you already know that she had been carrying blades around in her bag? Have you already seen the scars along her wrists, the bruises on her thighs? Did you already know the number of boys like you she's messed up before? Or shall I repeat their names for you?"

He sat back calmly as I stared at him, shocked into silence, and took another sip of his black coffee. 

"You're just another boy to her, Nathaniel," he said. "You're just a boy from a small town, thinking that he's experiencing something big and exciting for the first time in his life. To you, she's vibrant and fun and mysterious." He waved a mocking hand in the air. "She's the sun and the moon and the stupid pine trees around you. You've tailored your life so it would revolve around her. But to her, you're nothing. You never meant anything to her, Nate. Open your damn eyes. This is how Jimmy Jacobs is like. Fuck, her name isn't even Jimmy, it's Therese. Has she brought you to meet her friends other than me? Do you even know anything about her life at all? I love Jimmy, I do, but that doesn't mean I'm blind to her shortcomings. She's petty, and self-absorbed and selfish. She doesn't see anything except herself. She doesn't feel anything except her own pain. And she definitely doesn't care about some boy she picked up in a small town."