Free Problems by Jade Sharma

like a panda for Jake, and for their father, an iPod shuffle. They eyed the bacon-chocolate bars but wouldn’t even open them. I tried not to get involved when Peter bought his family gifts, but it was hard not to interject and pick out better things.
    We pulled into the driveway. The sky looked naked without any buildings to cover it. The house was small and yellow. Before I could figure out a way to sneak off to smoke, Grace nodded at me to follow her through the side entrance.
    Everything was way too bright and way too noisy. I thought of the sanctuary of Elizabeth’s bedroom when she was strung out: darkness and a movie playing on a tiny laptop screen. Candles. Getting off dope was like coming back from the dead and like being reborn. The way to kick was to make the world as warm and womblike as possible. The birth experience of the bustling scene at Peter’s parents’ house was jarring and raw. Everything hit too hard, and emotions came out of nowhere. Their sad little house they were so proud of. How they had worked hard and done their best. How they loved their children. No matter where you went on Earth, there were parents who loved their kids and laughed at their jokes and wanted to know everything they did.
    Behind me, Peter was carrying all of our bags like a Sherpa. Their skinny, tired son carrying all the bags while I walked in empty handed.
    â€œOh, it’s so good to see you,” Peter’s mother said as she embraced me. His father asked if Peter needed help. Peter shook his head. “Where are we sleeping?” he asked.
    â€œIn Jake’s old room,” his father said. Peter walked to the back of the house, leaving me there with all of them. Sue walked in, thin-boned, wearing blue jeans and a tight black sweater, her hair in a ponytail. We shook hands. “You look so cold,” she said. Her body was perfect. Her smile showed ultrawhite teeth. She was a ray of sunshine. I was doom and gloom and could hardly muster a smile. I wanted her to like me. I hated her instantly.
    â€œYeah, I’m kind of cold.” I was still wearing my coat. I kept waiting for the warmth to hit me after I came in, but there was no heat.
    â€œOh, sorry about that,” Sandy said.
    You couldn’t say, “Please turn on the heat because I can’t stop shivering in your freezing shitty house.” You couldn’t say, “I’m just going to go to a bedroom because I’d rather read than talk to any of you.” You couldn’t say, “This is my first day off dope, and all of this is overwhelming.” You couldn’t say, “Let’s cut the bullshit. You don’t give a shit where I’m from, just like I have no interest in any of the questions I will force myself to ask so I don’t appear rude. So I’ll just shut myself in your freezing porch and watch your shitty television until it’s time to go, and you can ignore me and hang out with your kid.”
    â€œNo, it’s fine,” I smiled.
    Sue opened the oven door and looked in.
    â€œAre you making something?” I asked.
    â€œYeah, a pie,” she said. A fucking pie?
    â€œLike, from scratch?” I asked, trying not to look down her top at her tits. She was wearing a hot pink bra. But Jake was looking too, so whatever.
    â€œYeah, me and Jake found the recipe last night, so this morning we all went to the market, and I bought the ingredients.”
    â€œWhy are you still wearing your coat?” Peter, coatless, asked. How can any of them stand it , I wondered.
    â€œShe’s cold. Maybe I can ask your father to start the fire.”
    Jake wrapped his arms around Sue and said, “Maybe just turn the heat on.” Why did they have to be touching? It felt obscenesomehow, like they were so obsessed with each other they had to always be touching. I wanted to be touched. I was pretty sure I would puke if anyone touched me.
    â€œWhat’s going on?” Grace