One song wouldn’t kill me.
Raj led me out onto the dance floor. Something about the touch of his hand made me feel secure, protected, and I liked it. The music throbbed as we started to dance. Raj really knew how to move, unlike most of the other people on the dance floor, myself included. His limbs seemed almost elastic; I wondered if he was high too, even though Alex had said he didn’t drink. Just because he didn’t drink didn’t mean he wouldn’t do other things. He was such an amazing dancer that I was okay with my own stuttering moves. He was right that no one was paying attention to me, but not for the reasons he’d said. It was almost like everyone else stopped to watch him, though they made halfhearted attempts to move back and forth as if to keep him from noticing.
One song melded into another, and then another, but that was okay; I was happy just to watch Raj in his element. His eyes were closed half the time, but he was always completely in sync with the music, as if he didn’t have to think about it, he was so totally in charge of his own body. I had the vaguest memory of feeling like that, when I was in the water, but the closest I could come now was on the treadmill, when I could forget that my body was moving and hurting and I lost myself in the music, safe in the knowledge that I was in my own house and no one could see me. For a few miles I’d be free, like Raj was now.
As I danced, I closed my eyes and tried to get somewhere close to where he was, but I couldn’t do it. It was almost like the Novalert kept me from daydreaming, kept me focused on what I was doing, even if I didn’t necessarily want to be. That boded well for the SATs, but despite the respite it gave me from my anxiety, it wasn’t helping me with the dancing at all.
Finally, Raj snapped out of his trance. “That was probably more than one song,” he yelled. “Shall we go somewhere else?”
I wasn’t sure if this was just more of his flirting, but it was entertaining. I’d be able to put him off if he tried something. Assuming I wanted to. He placed his hand on the small of my back to lead me off the dance floor, into a corner of the room that was far enough away to be just a little quieter, behind one of the smoke machines. I realized my heart was still pounding along with the music.
“This should do it,” he said.
I wasn’t sure how private it was, but at least there was smoke to shield us from view, broken up only occasionally by a strobe light, which flashed and broke the smoke into bits of sparkling dust that I could almost reach out and touch.
“So . . . ,” Raj said, and leaned in toward me.
I wasn’t sure what to do. Did I really want this? It was one thing to try to get into the social scene; it was another to make out with the first guy who was nice to me.
He leaned in a little closer. “So . . .”
I waited. If I didn’t do anything, he could make the decision for both of us.
And then he said it.
“Did you bring the money?”
9.
How could I be so stupid? Of course that’s what this was about. Just because Raj was a big flirt didn’t mean he wanted to have some random makeout session at a party. Thank god for the Novalert, which was keeping my humiliation in check. That, and the relative dark.
“The money . . . ,” I said. “I’ve got some, but Alex didn’t say how much.”
“It’s not cheap,” he said. “Twenty bucks a pill, so a thirty-day supply is six hundred. But Alex said you just wanted a couple, right? One for the SAT, plus a backup, just in case?”
Alex had gotten pretty chatty with Raj about this, given that I hadn’t even decided to buy the pills before the party. “Right,” I said, looking around.
“Don’t worry, we’re good here,” he said. He reached into his pocket for a tiny plastic bag with a Ziploc closure. There were two glossy mint-green pills in it, like the one Alex had given me before the party. “You know how they work? Alex told you everything you need to know?”
I nodded, not mentioning that she’d given me one to test-drive tonight. I reached into my tiny purse and dug around, pulling out two crumpled twenties.
“That will do it,” he said, handing me the pills. I put them in my bag as fast as I could. Raj might have been sure no one could see us, but I wasn’t. I tried to wrap my brain around the fact that he was a drug dealer. He didn’t sound like one; he sounded like some sort of British lord. But he also sounded like a friend who was trying to help me. Though wasn’t that how drug dealers got you hooked?
“Got it,” I said, my voice clipped. “Thanks.” Whatever tone I’d used before, when I’d misread the situation, I had to get rid of. This was a business transaction.
Raj gave me a strange look, one I couldn’t read. He’d heard something in my voice, though I wasn’t sure it was what I’d meant for him to hear. “Do you have your phone with you?”