All or Nothing by Jesse Schenker Read Free Book Online

the time to coach every single one of my teams. Baseball was the only one I really enjoyed or was any good at. I did have a live arm, and maybe if I’d had the motivation I’d have been pretty good. But my growing commitment to marijuana ensured that I didn’t make the high school team when I tried out that year. That was fine with me. When I was younger I loved playing sports with my dad, but as a rebellious teen I wanted to get out from under his thumb. Not making the team was the perfect excuse to stop playing. There I was—young, full of nervous energy, with no respect for boundaries and a lot of extra time on my hands. I filled the void with pot, cooking, music, and sex.
    When Cate’s parents went out and she was stuck babysitting her little brother, I would go over to her house, and after he was asleep I’d raid the fridge, excited to find new ingredients to experiment with. One night I used squash and corn to make a crazy version of shepherd’s pie that I covered with cheese and breadcrumbs and baked until it was golden brown and the cheese was bubbling up like lava. The excitement of creating something that delicious was better than any high I’d experienced so far.
    Cate and I also found ourselves alone in my house a lot. My parents would go out of town and leave Joee in charge, but she was no angel either and threw parties for her friends. I’d invite my own crew over, and we’d drink beer and smoke weed until 2:00 or 3:00 A.M. , when one of our neighbors would inevitably call the police. Over time those Schenker house parties became the stuff of legend.
    One night Cate and I moved into my parents’ bathroom, a quiet place for us to chill. There was a deep pink tub surrounded by gleaming black tiles and adorned with little soap dishes and bottles filled with sweet-smelling oils and beads. Cate sat in the empty tub while I took up residence on the edge. We silently passed a bong back and forth, something we’d done dozens of other times. But this time something wasn’t right. Finally it hit me. I was high, but I still felt the anxiety. The emptiness and anxiety were back; they were there even while I was smoking. This had never happened before. It struck me that pot was no longer enough to fill the gaping hole inside me.
    It was 1:00 or 2:00 in the morning by the time Cate finally fell asleep. After I knew she was out, I went into my parents’ medicine cabinet and swallowed six Benadryl. I didn’t know what I was doing. But I had to do something to change the way I was feeling. The Benadryl didn’t get me high. There was no euphoria, no pink cloud or white fucking elephant. I just passed out. But within a week over-the-counter meds were part of my new routine. Nyquil, Benadryl, Tylenol PM, Robitussin—nothing was off-limits.
    One day I came home and found Joee sprawled on the floor of our parents’ bedroom. “Jesse, I feel like shit. I think I’m going to puke,” she mumbled. That afternoon Joee had had her wisdom teeth removed, and she was in a lot of pain. I lifted her up and moved her onto the bed. Her face was red and swollen. She felt warm to the touch and was probably running a fever. She could barely speak. I tried to make her laugh by making fun of our parents—this was how we always bonded. As we were talking I noticed an orange plastic bottle with a gleaming white cap sitting on my mother’s nightstand.
    My search was over, at least for the moment. As soon as Joee fell asleep I snagged one of her five-milligram doses of oxycodone. Ten minutes later I was superman. The feeling of warmth started in the pit of my stomach and spread quickly throughout my entire body. As it spread all of my discomfort, anxiety, and ambivalence slowly washed away.
    Before long the first thing I asked whenever entering someone’s home was, “May I use your bathroom?” No, I didn’t want to take a leak. I didn’t want to