I Love Math

I love math.  I love to solve long beautiful calculus equations by hand, and mostly, I love to write the symbols of calculus with a soft pencil- a gently curled integral sign, a subscript alpha, a superscript infinity, a slanty "dx," all so lovely.  I used to spend hours on my homework in high school- making sure that every problem was beautifully presented on the page.

It was a Thursday afternoon, as I was intently working on my math homework, when Scarlet called.  Scarlet was my best friend and step sister.  Also, she was my foil in so many ways: While I loved math, she loved football players.  While I had spent 6 weeks of my summer vacation at science camp, she had been to countless parties and concerts.  While I was busy earning my CPR certificate for babysitting, she was landing a job at a record store.  (Scarlet knew everything about pop culture- from celebrities to movies to music.  This was a perfect job for her.)

That Thursday, Scarlet's voice sounded raspy and strange on the phone."Rachel, oh my God, you need to fucking come over to my dad's. Fuck. FUCK!"

"Um, ok," I said.  "But I am not done with my homework yet."

"Oh JESUS FUCK.  I fucked up. . . I need you to come over."  She definitely sounded pretty fucked up. . . Her speech was slurred.  Was she drunk?  Scarlet liked to party, but never after school on a weekday.  At this point I decided something serious was going on.  I was worried.

"Ok calm down.  I'm on my way," I said, and I quickly hung up the phone.  I ran upstairs from my basement room and grabbed the car keys off the hook.  My mom gave me a look- a where are you going and did you finish your homework look.  "Mom, somethings up with Scarlet.  I gotta go, but I promise I'll be back before dinner. Promise!"  She sighed and waved me on.  Before I knew it, I was walking up the long driveway to Scarlet's giant house on the hill.

I rang the doorbell, and I could hear Scarlet's big golden retriever barking on the other side of the door, but nobody answered.  I tried knocking, but still nobody came.  So I walked over to the garage, and put in the code to open the door.  When I got inside, the house was quiet, nobody home except the doggie, who jumped up and licked my face.  "Good boy. That's a good boy," I crooned.  "Scarlet?" I called out. No answer.

I walked up the long flight of stairs to Scarlet's floor of the house and opened the door to her bedroom.  It was a familiar sight- Giant posters of music legends, trendy clothes carpeting the floor, CD's piled high in the corner, and a million photos of Scarlet with all her friends taped all around her mirror.  On the desk, amid random jewelry and a few books, I saw Scarlet's diary laying open.  The page was full of tally marks- 47, I counted.  Then, next to the diary, I saw a big empty bottle of Kahlua, and an empty bottle of Aspirin laying on its side. "The fuck . . . ?" I said aloud.

"Nnnnnnn. . . . That you? Rachel. . . " Scarlet's voice sounded sluggish and far off.  It was coming from the bathroom.

"Oh my God Scarlet! Oh my God, open the door!  Did you take those pills? Shit! Shit!"  I was yelling and trying to open the bathroom door.  Banging with all my strength.  But it was locked, and she wasn't opening it. The reality hit me- she was gonna fucking die.  She was trying to kill herself.  "HELP! FUCK! HELP!" I screamed.  Adrenaline rushed through me and my hair was standing on end.  Nobody was home.  I had to figure out what to do.

I sat down and sobbed and screamed.  Through my tears I looked around her room for something to smash into the door, but then I spotted the cordless phone on Scarlet's bed.  I jumped up, grabbed it, and dialed 911.  "Hello?!  Hello?!  Oh my God my friend took a bunch of pills.  She's locked in the bathroom.  Oh FUCK HELP HELP HELP!!"

"Miss, calm down, calm down.  What is the address?  Help is on the way, but you've gotta be calm.  Take a deep breath.  What is the address?"  I had just spent an hour on my calculus homework, but at that moment I couldn't remember  four simple numbers, the numbers in Scarlet's address.  Their forms and shapes escaped me completely. . . I don't know if I could even have counted to ten.  I pinched my lip with my thumb and forefinger and sobbed into the phone. "I-I-I don't know.  I-I-I can't even think. . . Scarlet. . . No. . . "

"Miss.  You need to walk to the front door.  Go to the front door and look for the address."

I stumbled down the stairs tripping over the dog.  I unlocked the door and stepped out into the blinding light.  I squinted at the numerals pinned to the side of the door.  "5.  It says 5.  It is 5512 Lewis Street."