She says this so quietly that my lips turn down into a deep frown. We were having a good time tonight, and I know whatever she has to say is serious. Turning to look at her, I answer, “Sure.”
Looking down at her hands, she starts, “Michael came to see me this morning. And while we were talking, he told me how much he likes his job, and that he likes you a lot, even if you can be scary. I can tell he looks up to you a lot.” Blinking rapidly, she rambles, “Which is great, because he needs a good male role model in his life. Especially one as successful as you, so I don’t want you to think I’m on your back or anything given that you gave him a job that he needed, with no questions asked and—”
I cut her off, “This story got a point?”
Looking up at me, her pupils dilated, I can tell the weed has affected her, even though it was a small amount. She breathes, “Right.” Swallowing hard, she whispers, “He…he sort of looked like he went into his head a little while and mentioned something…something about cutting, stabbing, and gouging.”
My face devoids of all emotion.
That boy and I will be having a good talk tomorrow.
She sees the immediate change on my face and backs up, “He didn’t say much…”
“He said something.”
Rolling her eyes, she states, “He only said that because he thinks you’re my boyfriend!” Then she scoffs as if this was the most ridiculous notion she’s ever heard.
And just like that, everything I began feeling for Lexi over the last few days shrivels, shrinks, and dies away.
This is what she thinks of you. You’re not good enough for her. You’ll never be good enough for her. You’ll always be too street for her. She’ll never see you the way you want her to. And for good reason. You are scum…and you know it.
“Inside.” I seethe as I exit the car.
Hearing the car door shut behind me, I don’t wait for her as I approach the house. Walking up the front steps, the quick clicking of heels lets me know I’m walking too fast for her to keep up.
But I don’t care.
Walking up the steps, I hear her call out, “Where are you going?”
“I’ll be down in five.”
Because, truthfully, I need that five minutes to get my shit under control.
Finding a deserted corner in the ballroom, I watch through rose-colored glasses as everyone converses around me. I’m a wallflower. Or at least I will be until Twitch comes back down.
I don’t know what I said to upset him, but I know it was something bad enough that he needed to get away from me that minute.
My foggy mind seems to be playing in slow motion, or even at a delayed pace, because an irritated cough lets me know that I’m not alone.
Blinking, I look up to find Ling holding out a mirror. Six lines of white powder sit on top of it, so neat, so pretty, that they actually look appetizing.
I know what it is. I don’t have to have seen cocaine before to know that is exactly what I’m looking at. I’ve never done a drug so strong in all my life. Pot was the only drug I did, and even then it was only a few times in university. Until tonight.
Suddenly, I’m wistful.
The thoughts of how free the pot makes me feel return.
My body turns light. My frazzled brain clears. My inhibitions, gone.
Ling waves the mirror under my nose. I know what she’s doing. I know what this is.
This is a dare.
She wants to see how far I’ll go. And tonight, for Twitch, I’ll show her just how far.
I pluck the short straw from her fingers and our eyes meet. Her brows rise in question. Lowering my face to the white gold, I put the straw to my nose.
Before I can stop myself, I snort.
One line.
A small smile forms on Ling’s face. She’s impressed. She can’t believe I did it.
Neither can I.
Just as she moves to walk away, I lift the straw and snort again.
Her eyes widen in stunned disbelief. She blinks a moment before she catches herself. Bowing almost regally, she walks away to offer the stash to another guest.
A few minutes pass – at least I think it’s a few minutes – and I feel the change.
Wow.
I can see everything. And I mean everything.
I can see colors shoot out of the stereo speakers, along with the beat of the music.
Bright explosions of orange and pink and white swirl around the dancing guests.
And I’m delighted.
I can see the thoughts shooting out of people’s heads.
Some dark. Some sexy. Some plain fucked up.
I can see the air moving. Dancing. It’s begging me to join it.
Laughing out loud, I run a hand down my face before I stand and let One Republic’s Counting Stars wash over me.
I’m euphoric.
In a state of ecstasy.
And it’s bliss.
The music calls my name.
I need to dance.
Walking down the stairs, I pop the link into the button hole on the cuff of my shirt. My brow furrows when I see people gathered around the center of the ballroom.
Curious as to what’s causing the assembly, I walk a little faster the rest of the way down. I don’t have a good feeling.