I shake my head and give her my arm. She must have no idea.
Now she's touching me and I've never had a girl touch me. Not skin to skin. In my mind's eye, I've touched dozens of real women. Watched them in their most intimate moments and imagined running my tongue up and down their wet pussy lips. But this is different. Because she's not the same person as she is when no one is looking. No one is. I don't like having to deal with these different layers. They confuse me. They make me think too much. Then suddenly, my throat gets tighter, and the words get lodged, and I'm the fucking idiot with the scars. Has she even seen my face? I mean really seen it, the ropey thick scar that runs along my cheek? Or the rough marked skin on the arm she's not holding? Evidence of the time my life changed. When my head hit the pavement, and I woke up, weeks later, as someone else.
I'm so lost in my head that she's just an accessory during the walk. When we get to the clearing where the water is, I barely notice when she lets go.
We sit around a lantern Scoot brought as Cindy pulls out a joint. I've never done drugs. I've never done any of this.
She passes it around, and when it gets to me, I pass.
“You don't say much, huh?” Cindy asks.
I look at my brother.
“He's the mysterious type,” he chimes in.
“That's funny, because you looooove to talk Scooter.”
Phoebe grabs the joint and takes a few puffs.
“You're more than mysterious,” she adds. I tense up. Does she know something? “I don't think I've heard you say a single word.”
Scooter can't cover for me anymore. They are stare at me. The silence of the woods, which isn't silent at all, only makes the void larger. I have to speak up.
“H-h-h-h-h-h-he t-t-t-t-t-t-t-talks f-f-f-f-or…” Oh shit this is bad. It hasn't been this bad since I was a little kid. But I'm too far in and I have to finish this sentence. “T-t-t-the b-b-b-b-b-b-both o-fffff usssss.”
There's a moment of silence as I wait, my stomach turning with anxiety. I hold down the puke rising to the back of my throat. I can't do this. I'd rather watch. Participating is too painful. These fucking girls have it so easy. I bet everyone just worships them because they're beautiful and fit right into the cesspool of humanity. And the truth is, I want nothing more than to be like Scoot, who can just blend right in, and wanting it so badly is exactly what turns me into this mess of syllables and consonants.
After that one second that feels like minutes, when their wheels turn and they try to understand who this bumbling mess is in front of them, Cindy cracks a smile and looks over at Phoebe who seems relieved to see it. And they start laughing. They think I was joking.
I look over at Scooter as humiliation and rage swirl together and pick up speed like the formation of a tornado. I could kill those bitches right here if it wasn't for Scoot.
He looks embarrassed for me, for them. But he wants to get laid, so he has to be easy on them.
After a few seconds, the girls realize I'm not laughing and Scoot is only uncomfortably smiling along.
Cindy's giggling slowly stops. “I—oh my god—I'm so sorry,” she says. “Scoot didn't tell me.”
I nod, only accepting the apology on the surface. Phoebe looks too mortified to even muster up the words.
“Well, this is incredibly awkward,” Scoot sighs. “Let's break the ice again?” he pulls out a bag of pills.
They each pop one. I'm so fucking pissed, I don't even know what it is, but I take it. I just want to find a way to disappear without the walls.
The night quickly descends into drug-fueled chaos. Cindy and my brother find a dark spot on the shore to hook up. Despite the darkness, the moonlight provides just enough light to show the outline of their intertwined bodies.
Phoebe sits along the edge of the pond, her eyelids barely parted, her body swaying. She smoked a lot and took a lot of pills.
I look over at her. I can feel her disappointment; it floats around her like a force field.
“Cindy, I have to pee!” she shouts.
“What?” Cindy calls out.
“Come with me to pee in the woods. It's scary out there.”
The outlines of Cindy and Scoot part into two. He pulls her back down to him and she tugs away. I watch in silence as Cindy comes over and helps Phoebe up.
“Hurry up,” she groans as they wander into the woods. On the way over, Cindy gives me a forced smile.
I look over to Scoot. He's wasted, lying on the ground, waiting for his lay to return. I look towards the woods where they went. The craving strikes. To watch. To listen. To see Phoebe when she doesn't know I'm watching. They are about twenty yards in. I can hear them giggling, yapping away, completely unaware of my presence.
“So is he?”