21 Jump Street (Tom Hanson)

Do Not Share Medicine

January 1989

Fuller sent me on an assignment alone to Sunnydale High School where we had recently been getting numerous reports of kids dropping like flies, having symptoms of hypoglycemia, such as fainting and some have slipped into comas. I was undercover to figure out why this was happening.

It was my first assignment since going back to school. It was now the New Year, which I spent the eve of watching The Golden Girls by myself. I didn't answer the phone all break because everyone thought I was out of town for the holidays. I did enjoy my time alone though, it gave me time to clean my apartment and stop procrastinating on everything I needed to do.

It was very strange to be back in school and be forced to pay attention for a grade. I've spent so many years surveying the students of the classes I'm in, I haven't had to pay attention to the material. Especially since I've heard it all before.

It was weird not having a partner to talk everything through to, it's been so long since I've had an assignment by myself. Instead, it was just me and my thoughts. In lieu of taking notes from a film we were watching in history class that I've watched a hundred times before, I was writing my reasoning about the case. I was thinking about the symptoms of the victims, and figured out that hypoglycemia was probably from low blood sugar. I knew that the victims had little puncture wounds on the arms, so I realized that they were probably taking medication that was not prescribed to them, such as insulin.

During passing period, I went to the office and asked to use their phone. I was allowed to, so I made a quick call to Captain Fuller.

"Yeah?" Fuller answered.

"It's Mick," I said quietly, "listen, I think I know why these kids are going into comas. They're taking insulin."

I heard him exhale softly into the receiver as I heard him shuffle some papers around. He said, "I think you're right, Gregg."

"I need a list of every student at this school who is diabetic," I said while fiddling with the sleeve of my dark blue sweater. "I can narrow down who is selling their medication."

"Those are medical records, Gregg. They'll be confidential."

"Dammit," I muttered. I looked around to make sure that no one heard me.

"Prowl around during lunch. The cafeteria, bathrooms... anywhere. Whoever it is will probably have their medication out before they eat."

"That's a good idea," I said, "thank you."

We hung up, and I thanked the receptionist for letting me use the phone. I walked out and devised a plan that I would go around asking if anyone knew if anyone at the school was diabetic.

I asked a few people in my next class, but they were maddeningly unhelpful. I wished I was paired with Tom for this case. He's always been better at communication than me. I tried not to think about him and let it distract me, but I missed him so much. I did not realize how hard it was going to be not being able to see him so often. I hadn't seen him since the Christmas party a couple weeks earlier. He had not arrived to work yet when I left for this case.

I scavenged the rooms and cafeteria for anyone using the medication, until I walked into the bathroom. I saw a blonde girl that I did not recognize pocket a wad of cash before another girl scurried out of the room. I smiled at her and pulled up the sleeves of my sweater to wash my hands. I could feel it in my gut, she was who I was after.

"How's it going?" I asked her.

"Good," she said, unbothered.

"I'm Michelle," I introduced.

"Olivia," she said.

I asked, "this might be unorthodox, but do you know anyone at this school with diabetes?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I have it."

"Oh, you do?" I asked, pretending to be surprised.

"Yeah," she said.

"I forgot my medicine today," I said glumly.

"Oh, I have some you can have," she said and grabbed the sink to steady herself. Her face was pale and she moved slowly.

"Are you all right?" I asked, using a paper towel to dry my hands.

"Yeah," she said and shook her head, "just got a little dizzy."

"Well, it's your medicine. You should have it," I said and tossed the paper towel away.

"Don't worry. It's not the first time I have given my medicine to someone," she chuckled.

"Who else?" I asked.

"A few friends." She shrugged like it wasn't a big deal.

"When was last time you took yours?" I asked.

"About four days," she said after having to think about it for a moment.

"That's a long time," I stated.

"It's not bad." She dug through her bag to find the insulin. She said, "$40."

"Wanna tell me why you've been selling your medication?" I asked.

"What?" She asked, then I whipped out my badge. Her face dropped when she realized how much trouble she was going to be in. "Oh."

"Olivia, tell me why you've been selling your medication. You need that to live," I said and slipped my badge in the back pocket of my baggy jeans.

"I know," she groaned and I could see her hands shaking. "I'm trying to save up money for school."

"So you've been selling your medicine, knowing full well that you can die without it? And just for a few lousy bucks? It is incredibly dangerous to do that."

I looked her in the eyes, and could see how tired she looked. I could see sweat at her hairline, and she looked dizzy and nauseous. She ignored my questioning. She asked, "why'd... why'd they send an undercover cop to find me? I'm-I'm fine."

"You may be fine... for now. But your friends that you sold your medication to are not. They are hypoglycemic, and a few of them are in comas," I said. She did not look fine to me. She looked like she had incredibly low blood sugar levels and was in pain.

"Oh my god," she said with her shaky hand covering her mouth. I could see it in her eyes that welled up with tears that she had no idea that she put her friends in grave danger.

"I'm going to have to ask you to come with me," I said and took a step closer to her.

I saw her eyes flutter and her knees buckled from under her. I rushed to catch her before she fell and smacked her head on the sink. I carefully set her down just as another girl walked into the bathroom. I looked at her and ordered, "go call 9-1-1. Go!"

She ran out, and I stayed with Olivia until the paramedics arrived.

This was inspired by how school warns you not to share your medicine with anyone, and the big speech that comes with it. Next chapter will follow Tom and his assignment without Mickey!
Hope you liked it!