I feel reckless.
I feel lost.
But most of all, I feel nothing like me.
Tillie
We’re all in the pool house later that night, most of us blinded from top-shelf alcohol.
“I’m leaving tomorrow,” I slur, standing on the middle of the coffee table. Nate and Brantley are behind me stretched out on the sofa and Bishop and Madison are in front of me on the lazy boy. Hunter, Jase, and Eli were here but disappeared, probably when they saw how dark we all were feeling. People mourn in different ways, yes, but I also feel like it depends on the ferocity of the hole that person leaves in your life. The bigger the hole, the bigger the mess.
I lift my arm high, tears slide silently down my cheeks. Not an obvious tsunami like earlier.
“Shut up, Tillie,” I hear from behind me, and I don’t have to turn to know who it was.
I ignore Nate and continue dancing to “Deuces” from Chris Brown. The slow song possessing every limb of my body. If only music could seize every thought too, turning them into simple music notes instead of the ghosts that meet me behind my closed eyes. I will never recover from losing her. Not ever. There’s no point in me living the rest of life within boundaries. It’s time to shove those to the side. I just want to feel good. Sweat slides down between my boobs as I continue to dance until I trip and fall, subsequently landing on Brantley’s lap. “Talk that Talk” by Rihanna starts playing next. I lick my lip, my eyes dropping to Brantley’s mouth.
Brantley smirks, his arm tightening around my back. He leans in closer, his lips touching my ear. “Careful, princessa. You’re fair game now.”
My eyes flick to Nate, who is watching us carefully, a grin on his face. He has no shirt on and loose faded blue jeans. His muscles clench with every movement. I know how ripped he is, but that’s not what I’m looking at right now. Right now, I’m lost in a trance that is his stupid fucking eyes.
“Fair game?” I ask, my voice coming out way too soft. I don’t even feel hurt. There’s so much of myself that is in pain right now, that nothing, and I mean nothing, can touch the pile of shit that’s already inside of me. Nate included. Seems he’s almost willing to test that theory though.
The song switches to “Blueberry Yum Yum” by Ludacris, just as Nate blows out a cloud of smoke from inhaling his joint.
“Yeah, B. You’re fair game.” Nate flicks his hand out, gesturing to my body but looking at Brantley. “Have at it. You two have been dripping all over each other from the beginning. Go on.” He leans back on the sofa, his legs spread wide with a joint hanging between his fingers. I snort, turning around to face Madison and Bishop but staying on Brantley’s lap. Brantley doesn’t touch me. Merely leaves me there, allowing me to grace his lap with my presence. Trust me, any girl who Brantley doesn’t want on his lap will not be there. He’s particular with who he allows to bounce around on him, even more so than Bishop. I swear these guys are the biggest motherfuckers to ever walk this shitty, fucked up world.
I watch as Madison takes a line of cocaine and then clears her nostril, grinning at me. “Care to pop that cherry?”
I want to.
No I don’t.
Yes, I do.
Wait. “Will it fix me?”
Madison cranks her head. “No. Drugs don’t fix people. They just numb the broken ones.”
I could do with some numbing. I gesture for the rolled up hundred-dollar bill and reach for it. Last time I did this Nate whacked it out of my hand—even though I wasn’t going to try it that time. This time, he’s ignoring me. Not caring. Cold and distant. I don’t blame him.
I lean down and snort the line, the taste of harsh chemicals hitting the back of my throat on the first suction. I clear my nose and lean up, handing it back to Madison. Everything feels semi-better. Like I can handle being alive for a little longer. Maybe this isn’t too bad. I could do this. For now. Turning around to face Brantley, he’s grinning at me in the way Brantley does. Sometimes, which admittedly isn’t often because he’s so serious. When his legs widen, and he looks to his dick before looking back up at me under hooded eyes, I almost jump on him. “Gods and Monsters” by Lana Del Ray starts playing and I slowly start dancing on Brantley, my ass digging into his crotch. I feel him expand under my butt and a shock of power surges through me. The thing with power, though, is it cuts out. His hand comes to my throat and he pulls my body down against his chest, his other hand coming up my inner thigh. “Wanna fuck me, regina meis?” my queen.
I gulp, my eyes drifting open and closed. When they open, Bishop and Madison are making out on the lazy boy in front of me. Madison stands and slowly removes her shirt, leaving her standing there in nothing but her little white panties and lace bra. She winks at me, her head swinging from left to right. Bishop’s eyes are lazy, heavy and on her.
I lick my lips. “Yes.”
Nate chuckles beside me, and then moves to the center of the room. He goes to the table with the coke on it as Brantley’s hand comes up my inner thigh, his pinky slipping beneath my panties. Nate’s eyes are still on mine as he leans down, pressing the rolled-up bill up one nostril. On mine as he leans down and positions the tip
