nine
Rumor Has It… The student body at Willow Heights came together to make their voice heard and tell the powers that be that they won’t stand for one more undeserving cookie-cutter clone to win the crown! Congratulations on thinking for yourselves and choosing the right Prom Queen this year!
Colt Darling
I grit my teeth and reach for my wallet without thinking, flipping it open and slipping my finger into the pocket where I keep the dozen pills that get me through the day. Nothing but the soft leather meets my finger, and I pause and open it wide, staring into the compartment. I swear I didn’t take them all yet—it’s not even midnight, and I knew I’d need a few extra to survive the evening’s stresses. I took a couple on the way here, then tossed my wallet in the console. Maybe they spilled in there. The urge to swallow one and feel the wave of calm tugs at me, and I turn toward the doors, where the parking lot beckons.
But then I hear the ding of the elevator, and I turn back and see Gloria stepping in.
“Wait,” I call, jogging back in that direction. When I step into the mirrored car with her, I can see she’s been crying. She must have been in the bathroom touching up her makeup, as her lashes are perfect, though her eyes are red and puffy.
“You’re making it worse,” she says, retreating to one side and hitting the button before resting her hands on the bar at hip level.
“I can’t help it,” I say, stepping close. She doesn’t protest.
I bend at the knees enough to slip my hands behind her bare thighs, straightening and sliding them up to the very top, stopping when my fingers reach the bottom of her ass. I lift her in one swift motion, and her legs wrap around me. I press her back against one of the mirrors, gripping her ass in both hands. “I’ve been dying to know what’s under this dress all night.”
“We can’t,” she protests.
“One taste,” I say. “I can make you cum before we step out of this elevator.”
“That’s like one minute,” she protests.
“Is that a challenge?” I ask, burying my face in her neck, inhaling her shampoo, her skin, the scent of her that drives me out of my damn mind. I squeeze her ass, grinding between her thighs.
“Colt,” she protests again, shoving at my shoulder, but it’s a weak attempt to put space between us. “You’re fucked up.”
“Barely,” I lie. “I’m sober enough to know what I’m doing, and to know what I want to do it. Open your legs for me, my queen.”
“You have a girlfriend.”
“You hate my girlfriend,” I point out. “She slapped you in the face.”
“She did more than that,” she grumbles. “She destroyed my entire life, and to add insult to injury, stole my sisters. My reputation literally could not be worse.”
“Doesn’t she deserve a little payback?” I ask, slowly grinding my raging hard-on against her belly.
The elevator comes to a smooth stop, the doors sliding open with a soft chime. Neither of us move.
“Let me go down on the way down?” I ask, smiling and toying with the edge of her lace panties. “You know how good I am.”
“You’re going to get me killed.”
“They’ll have to kill me to get to you,” I say. “If you don’t kill me first.”
“You’re going to die if you can’t eat me out?”
I groan and drop my head back, staring into my own blurry, unfocused eyes in the mirror on the ceiling. “Yes, you evil demon,” I say. “Now spread your legs and let me feast.”
I hit the button to close the doors again and drop to my knees, lifting the edge of her pink skirt. A pair of tiny, red lace panties greet me, and I bury my face between her thighs and moan as I inhale.
“Time’s ticking,” she says, hitting the button for the first floor.
I drag her panties down her thighs, swiping my tongue through her slit before I’ve even gotten them to her feet. She lets out a whimper, then quickly steps out of the panties. I ball them in my fist and shove them into the pocket of my jacket without looking, without taking my mouth from her cunt.
“Lift me,” she orders, dragging my hands to her waist.
I do as she commands, and she rewards me by spreading her legs to a full splits, resting them on the bar that stretches along that entire side of the elevator.
“Holy fuck, you are a demon,” I say, reaching over and jabbing the button to stop the car before I bury my face in her. I moan as I suck at her sweet, pink cunt, licking and biting and gorging myself on her in a way I’ve been dreaming of every fucking day since I went down on her in the locker room—hell, since that night on the roof when I sucked her off my fingers.
She tenses and draws a shuddering breath. “That’s cheating,” she gasps out. “You can’t stop the elevator.”
I give her piercing a tug with my teeth, then swirl my tongue ring over the pink bud of her clit before I grin up at her. “I said I’d make you cum before we leave the elevator,” I remind her, stroking my thumb through her folds, spreading her glistening flesh before leaning in to plant a deep kiss in her center. “I didn’t say how long we’d be in here. This pussy is meant to be savored. And believe me, I’m going to fucking savor it. You just sit back, darlin’, keep those legs spread, and watch in the mirror while I drink every drop of cum out of this glorious cunt of yours.”
Before she can answer, I dive in. I lose myself in her, in her sighs and gasps, whimpers and cries echoing in the little box around us. I never want to leave, never want the doors to open to the rest of the world. I want to taste her on my tongue forever, make her this happy forever. When she finally shoves my head hard enough to drag me off, her pussy is red and swollen and raw.
“I can’t,” she pants out, dropping her feet to the floor. Her knees are shaking, and it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
“Let me fuck you,” I say, standing and turning her around. My pants are already open, my stiff cock out and ready. I must have started jerking off while I was eating her out, though I don’t remember doing it.
“Colt, wait,” she says. “You’re swear you’re not drunk? Did you even hear me telling you stop?”
“You told me to stop?” I ask, staring at her in the mirror. “Fuck. Lo… I’m so fucking sorry.”
“No, not like that,” she says with a shaky laugh. “I just… It was too much. I came like five times already. I couldn’t do it again.”
“But you wanted to?” I ask, needing to know I didn’t do something she didn’t want.
“I mean, yeah, but… You’re sober?”
“I’m only drunk on you,” I says, dropping my head to rub my nose up the bare skin between her shoulder blades. I can’t look her in the eye while I lie, not even in the mirror. “I have to feel you, baby. I’m dying here.”
“Make it quick,” she says, giving me an evil little grin in the mirror before reaching over and hitting the button to start the elevator again. Then she grips the bar and arches her back to poke her ass up, pressing her dainty pink heels together and turning to look at me over her shoulder with a saucy smile. I think I’m going to cum before I even get it in, and I know being quick will not be a problem.
I grip my cock, rubbing the pierced tip through her slick wetness before I line up and drive to the hilt with one push. The sensation of her bare, wet cunt squeezing tight around my aching cock is too much. Before I can stop it, I feel my cock expand, my cum spurting into her core.
“Fuck,” I grunt, dropping my head back and groaning in relief and embarrassment at once. I want to fuck her forever, but I couldn’t even last for two thrusts. She’s been teasing me mercilessly for two weeks, and I can’t even think about fucking Dixie after that, even when she’s tried, even when I swear my balls are so blue they’re going to fall off one of these days. I guess the culmination of two weeks of nightly torture combined with celibacy makes me a one-pump chump. Or maybe it’s that she’s so fucking hot like that, bent over with her ass bared for the taking, her raw cunt drenched with her own cum, her thighs tight together, her glossy lips twisted into a teasing smile and her sapphire eyes blinking back at me over her shoulder, her lids heavy with lust.
A shudder of pleasure wracks my body as the floors count down way too fucking fast. The hot squeeze of her slick cunt grips me, and I draw a sharp breath and give her a fierce thrust, hard enough to make a wet sound as my balls slap against her pussy. I watch in the mirrored ceiling as my thick cock draws out and plunges into her one more time, my fingers biting into the soft flesh of her hips, leaving my mark on her. I want to claim her, to mark her, for the other men to know she’s spoken for when she dances for them on that stage. I want her to go back into that dance with my cum trickling down her thighs, looking flushed and freshly fucked.
The floors are slipping by, so I force myself to pull out, watching a slippery bead of white cum slide out after her. I growl at the sight, thumbing it back in.
“God damn,” I groan. “I love coming inside you.”
“I love it too,” she says with a little smile, straightening and tugging down her skirt.
“Can I do it every day for the rest of my life?” I ask, drawing her into my arms.
“God, yes,” she says with a breathy little laugh.
The elevator dings, and I barely have time to step back, shove myself into my pants, and zip before we’re staring out into hallway, where Royal and Harper stand waiting for the elevator.
“Jesus,” Royal says, glowering and shaking his head. “Get a fucking room.”
“You’re so crass,” Gloria says, rolling her eyes, looking vaguely annoyed, as if nothing at all just happened, as if she’s not standing there with cum dripping down her bare thighs, with her panties still in my pocket.
“Oh, I see,” Harper says slowly, nodding as realization dawns in her eyes. “That scene in the ballroom makes a lot more sense now.”
“Nothing happened,” I say. “Gloria’s a lady.”
“You have cum all over your face,” Royal says flatly, stepping in to jab the button for the penthouse suite. While he gets out his card to unlock the exclusive top floor of the Hockington Hotel with access to the rooftop pool and party area, I turn to the mirror.
The entire bottom half of my face is indeed glistening with the evidence of Gloria’s pleasure. “Damn,” I say, grinning at myself. “Now that’s hot.”
“Wipe it off,” Gloria hisses as the door whisks open.
“Not a fucking chance,” I say, laughing as I step out. “They can wash it off before they bury me.”
Royal strolls into the suite like he owns the place, tossing his wallet and key card on the island with a half dozen bottles of liquor and mixers. He heads for the open French doors, beyond which at least a dozen people are crowded into one spot on the narrow balcony that runs along the length of the building.
“Seriously,” Gloria says, grabbing my arm. “Go wash your face. That’s me all over you.”
“And you’re going to stay all over me,” I say, grinning and pulling her against me. “I’m wearing this as a badge of honor for the rest of my life if I have any say in the matter.”
“That’s gross.”
“Then I’m gross,” I say, releasing her. “Come on, let’s go smoke.”
I amble out onto the balcony, where I’m surprised to see a dozen more people further down, outside another door that leads to one of the suite’s bedrooms. The party’s already started up here.
How long were we in that elevator?
We step into the crowd, and someone shoves a joint at me. I take one look off the balcony and my stomach swims, and I close my eyes and inhale a long drag before passing it to Lo with shaking fingers. She has the grace to ignore my momentary terror, though she glowers at me while she takes a puff. Duke throws one arm around me and reaches for the joint with the other.
“Who smells like pussy?” he asks.
I shrug and pull out my cigarettes. “It’s prom. Everyone gets lucky.”
“Somebody started early,” he says, sniffing the air.
“Maybe it’s you.”
“Oh damn,” he says, rubbing a finger under his nose and sniffing it. “Maybe it is.”
“I thought you’d be down there soaking up the attention all night,” I say, handing Lo a cigarette and tucking one into the corner of my mouth.
“Jealous?” Duke asks with a wide grin, looking delighted at the idea.
“No,” I say. “I don’t care about any of that shit.”
“You sure?” he asks, reaching up to pluck the crown off my head and set it on his. “You’re finally back on the throne, the official king. You gonna knock my teeth out for touching your crown? Or your queen downstairs?”
“No,” I say, scowling at him as I dig out my lighter.
He watches my finger dip into my pocket, searching, curling around the lighter. He keeps watching as I bring it to my lips and flick it open to ignite the flame.
“Shouldn’t you be down there reveling with your subjects?” he taunts. “Grinding on your girlfriend’s juicy ass? I know you were pissed when I started fucking with her on stage.”
“I wasn’t,” I say, holding out the flame to Gloria to light her cigarette.
When I finish, Duke grabs me and shoves me back against the railing, making my guts clench into knots at the knowledge of the drop behind me. “She’s down there grinding on any dick she can find and pretending to give a shit about you,” he says, rolling his hips in an exaggerated motions as he raises his voice to a high, mocking tone to imitate my girlfriend. “Oh, DeShaun, you’re so funny, hee-hee! I wonder where Colt is. Come here, Cotton, sandwich me so I can feel both your dicks at once. Colt’s not keeping me satisfied.”
He grinds his dick against mine as he speaks, laughing in his belligerent, drunken way while I try to shove him back. Royal grabs the back of his neck and drags him off me. “What the fuck?” he says, gesturing at me with the tip of a blunt. “He’s on our side now.”
I want to laugh at that, since I’ll never be on the Dolces’ side, and he’s got a lot of balls calling it that. If anything, they’ve knuckled under to our s ide.
“I’m just fucking with him,” Duke says, shrugging him off. “We’re friends. He knows I’m joking. We understand each other. Don’t we, Darling boy? Huh?”
I frown and then nod reluctantly, tapping my cigarette and leaning my elbow on the railing like the drop doesn’t bother me any more than the fact that Duke just shoved his dick up against me—and it was definitely affected by the contact.
I cast a guilty glance at Gloria as I blow out smoke. The smell of her pussy is still in my nose, making me dizzy with lust. Nothing Duke or Dixie could do can make me want anyone but her.
“Seriously man,” Duke says, picking up a beer and taking a swig. “Why aren’t you down there dancing and soaking it up? Everyone loves you again. You’re the ‘hot couple’ or whatever bullshit Dixie’s calling it. You’re supposed to dance all night and close out the party.”
I shrug. “Guess I’m too old for that shit. I should have graduated last year. It’s not the same anymore.”
“Or you’re chasing some new tail,” he says, narrowing his eyes at Gloria.
“I’m not,” I grit out.
“Then I guess you won’t care if I set her up to be tonight’s entertainment. What do you say, Glory Hole? Want to share that pussy with the whole party this time?”
“I thought I was too fat for you now,” she says, her tone edged with bitterness.
“More cushion for the pushin’,” he says, palming his crotch and pumping into his hand. “Besides, it looks like it’s mostly in your tits, where it belongs. Maybe they’re finally big enough for a tittie fuck.”
“Leave her alone,” I warn.
“So you are trying to add a body to your count,” he says, finishing off his beer and wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. “I don’t blame you. The pussy’s top tier. It’s so pretty, man. And that’s not something I’d say about most, y’know? Swampy ax wound is more like it. But hers is baby pink and so smooth it’s like silk when you eat it. We got all the hair lasered off for her, so you can thank me for that when you get to pound town.”
“Watch your fucking mouth,” I growl.
“The only one that can compare is your sister’s,” Duke taunts with a sloppy grin, cracking another beer. “Too bad she’s not here. I’d make them grind on my dick at the same time, slime me all the way down to my balls, and then do a little scissoring at the tip. Slosh those juicy pussies together while I cum between them.”
My fist connects with his nose before my brain catches up, before I remember that I’m on a balcony sixteen floors up from a concrete parking lot, and the guy who almost killed me the last time is standing two feet away, watching his brother provoke me, probably waiting for me to do just what I did so he can finish the job he started last year.
“Motherfucker,” Duke howls, stumbling back, covering his nose with a look of dismay that’s nothing short of comical. The crown on his head tumbles off, disappearing over the balcony. Blood seeps between his fingers as he stares at me in shock. At least I get a laugh before I die.
“Took you long enough,” Royal rumbles, clapping my back firmly. Then he turns to Harper, who appears at his elbow and takes in the scene.
“Everything okay?” she asks, looking from Royal, to me, to where Duke is spitting blood over the railing while a handful of Dolce girls fuss over him like he’s on his deathbed.
“Fine,” Royals says. “Want to get out of here?”
“Where you going?” Lo asks.
“We thought we’d take a field trip to school, since prom isn’t held there,” Harper says, giving Royal a coy little smile over her shoulder as she leans back into him. “Do a little light B&E.”
He slides a hand around her, spreading it possessively over her abdomen to pull her tighter to him.
“Why?” Gloria asks.
“Not your business,” Royal says coolly, lifting his chin and staring down at her.
“Oh, you know,” Harper says with a giddy grin, waving away Royal’s rudeness. “We thought we’d recreate our first encounter, but just the two of us this time.”
“So you’re breaking into school to give Royal a blowjob in the basement?”
“Yeah,” Harper says. “That about sums it up. I’d invite you, but…”
“No,” Royal says firmly. “Now let’s go, or I’ll put you on your knees right here and you can choke with an even bigger audience than the last time.”
Harper scoffs. “Choking is for amateurs.”
She grabs his hand and drags him through the doors into the suite, leaving the party to us.
“You didn’t have to do that for me,” Lo says, stepping over to the railing and leaning against it a few inches from me. My fingers twitch to reach for her, to feel the soft skin of her bare arm, trace the blue butterfly inside her wrist, to anchor myself to her so I don’t pitch over and fall sixteen stories to the parking lot far, far below.
“Who says I did it for you?” I ask, tossing my cigarette over the balcony. “I was defending my sister.”
“Yeah,” she says, nodding and staring ahead into the darkness. “Yeah, okay. That makes more sense.”
It doesn’t make sense, though. Nothing makes sense. She’s inches away, but it might as well be a mile. Any distance at all is way too fucking far. I want to pull her into my chest the way Royal does Harper, to fit her under my arm and have her lean there like it’s nothing, the way we would if we were together. I want to feel the heat of her soft curves pressed up against me, a tease that looks casual to anyone else, but all the time she’s winding me up for later, when I’ll dive between her legs and find release from the tension her touch has built in me all night. Right now, I can’t remember why I can’t.
And then she’s standing in the doorway, framed by the light from inside, sparkling like the jewels in her crown—the reason.
Guilt drops into my heart like an anvil, and I’m glad I didn’t reach for Gloria, that I didn’t pull her into my arms and bury my nose in her hair. That I didn’t snake a hand up under the few inches of her skirt hiding that sweet, wet cunt, bare and still soaked with my cum and ready for a finger to sink deep into its hot, hungry depths.
“There you are,” Dixie says, giving me a meaningful look. Her tone is cheery, but there’s an undercurrent of fury in it, an edge of icy danger. “Everyone’s leaving the ballroom to come up here and dance on the roof. The theme is Under the Stars, after all. What better way to celebrate than under the actual stars?”
She says the words in a rehearsed way, like she’s said them to twenty other people to convince them to leave the prom because she wanted to go and find me, but she didn’t want to lose her crowd of admirers.
“I don’t know,” I say. “I think I’m done with this whole scene.”
“It’s prom,” she says through a brittle smile. “And I want to make it last. Just take another pill and calm down, and we’ll go dance on the roof.”
“I don’t have any left,” I mutter.
“Then have a drink,” she says. “I’ll get you one. What do you want? Crown and Coke?”
“Sure,” I say, pushing away from the railing.
“No, stay here and have another smoke and chill,” she says. “I’ll be right back.”
She disappears inside, and I check Gloria from the corner of my eye, the guilt deepening further when I look at her than it did when I saw Dixie, like I’m cheating on her and not the other way around.
“I’m gonna head out,” she says, dropping her cigarette into an empty beer bottle. “Let you enjoy your prom king status with your queen.”
“Lo…” I glance through the doors, where Dixie stands alone at the counter, mixing up a couple drinks.
“Don’t,” Gloria says, her voice soft but firm. “We can’t keep doing this.”
“I know,” I mutter, glaring at my girlfriend.
“I may hate her guts, but she doesn’t deserve this,” Gloria says. “She just wants what any girl wants. To know you to love her despite her flaws, that you’d do anything to be with her, that you’re more committed to her than your dick.”
“That’s what girls want?”
“Yes. I’m not teasing or flirting when I tell you every time you come to the club that you need to stop. I don’t want you there, Colt. I—it’s too hard. Tonight never should have happened. As good as it was, I can’t be your side piece. If you want to be with her, then choose her. Really choose her. And stop fucking with my head. You’re not being fair to either of us.”
She walks away, leaving me hanging my head in shame and cursing myself for not going out to my car to look for the missing pills. I could really use something to numb the sting of truth in Gloria’s words.
“Wait,” Dixie says to Gloria as she passes the island inside. “I made you a drink.”
“Why?” Gloria asks, pulling up short.
Dixie steps around the island and throws the contents of the drink in Gloria’s face. It splashes into her hair, splatters over the round globes of her gorgeous tits, soaking her soft pink dress. She gasps in shock as ice tumbles and skids across the floor at their feet. Then she wipes her eyes and blows out a breath, drops of soda spraying off her lips. “And here I was defending you,” she says, shaking her head. “What an idiot.”
“That’s for going after my man,” Dixie says, ignoring her words. “Get your skanky, STD ass away from him. How many times do I have to tell you, he’s not interested .”
“I told you I wasn’t going to fight for him,” Gloria says, wiping her face again. “If he wants to fight for me, that’s his choice.”
“Fight for you?” Dixie asks incredulously, snorting with laughter.
Gloria shrugs. “No accounting for taste.”
“He’s not going to fight for you,” Dixie fumes, her eyes narrowing as she takes a threatening step toward Lo. “And if you go after him, I’ll—I’ll tell Royal what you did last year.”
“Why would he care?” Gloria asks.
“Maybe he won’t,” Dixie says, tossing her head. “But do you really want to risk it and find out? After what he did to him last time he was pissed?”
“If you’d put Colt in danger, you don’t love him, so what’s the point in holding on so hard?” Gloria asks. “Is it really just to say you won? That’s pathetic, even for you.”
“I love him enough to do what’s best for him, which is keeping him away from a psycho like you,” Dixie hisses. “Now leave, skank.”
“You’re not going to listen, but I’ll give you some advice anyway,” Gloria says, glancing from the empty room onto the balcony, where I stand smoking, pretending I’m not overhearing their whole argument. “Some guys just aren’t the commitment type. What’s the saying? You can’t make a husband out of a ho.”
I push off the railing, ready to storm inside and defend myself, but I have no right. I’ve proven to them both that I’m trash, that I can’t be trusted, that I’m a cheater just like my father. It all comes full circle in the end. The apple and the tree and all that shit.
“You couldn’t make a husband out of a guy down on one knee with a ring in his hand,” Dixie says to Gloria. “You’re the ho, and everyone knows you can’t make a wife out of a ho.”
“You never know,” Gloria says. “I would’ve thought you can’t make a girlfriend out of a dog, but you’re living proof.”
Dixie huffs. “Whatever. You’re just jealous because no one’s going to want to marry you now that you’re all nasty and run through. You’re not wifey material, and I am, and you can’t stand it that I won.”
“I don’t know what material I am,” Gloria says. “I never got to figure it out, so I’m doing that now. The last thing I want is to saddle some poor guy with my baggage before I’ve sorted it out. Not everyone wants to be a wife. I’m okay with being a wild card.”
“If that’s what you have to tell yourself so you don’t put a gun down your throat. The truth is no one cares about you, and your life is sad and empty.”
“On that note, I’ll be going,” Gloria says, drawing herself up. “I hope you like the taste of pussy, because you’ll be tasting mine on your boyfriend’s tongue when you kiss him goodnight.”
The air is sucked from the entire building, but before I can intervene, Gloria’s gone, and Dixie’s mixing another drink like nothing happened. She obviously doesn’t know I overheard, but I still can’t figure out her reaction. She must think Gloria’s lying. Otherwise she’d be eviscerating me in front of everyone. She never misses an opportunity to make herself look like the victim when there’s an audience, and this time, she’d be right to do it.
I’m no better than Gloria ever was, even when she was the bully queen. I’m no more worthy of the throne than she is, and I’m certainly not worthy of Dixie’s devotion, stifling as it is. I’m a liar just like both of them. Maybe we all deserve what we get—each other.
Guilt twists hard inside me, and I’m about to go put an end to the evening since prom is over now, but before I can, Duke appears at my elbow with a beer in each hand. His nose is busted and his lip is cracked and swollen, but he’s shaken off his crowd of doting admirers for the moment.
“Hey, homo,” he says. “You gonna go up to the roof and party with us?”
“Why?” I ask, snatching one of his beers. “You gonna throw me off this time?”
I down the whole beer, trying to drown the itch that won’t quit, the incessant thoughts of the pills that rattle in the back of my head like the medicine did in the bottles on my bedside table when I came home from the hospital and thought they were a fix, not a trap. I listened when they whispered they could help, believed the seductive lies from the mouthless little white demons that have possessed me.
“I was gonna drink that,” Duke protests, scowling.
“I know.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“Did you think you were the only rude boy in Faulkner?”
He looks at me a long moment, swaying on his feet. Then he tips his chin at me, his lids lowering halfway. “You wanna get out of here?”
“I’m done owing you favors.”
“What if you did me one anyway?” he asks. “Then I’d owe you.”
“I’m not interested in anything you can do for me,” I say, leveling him with a look.
“Bullshit,” he says. “You were into it too.”
“The difference is that I’m not ashamed of who I am or what I like,” I say. “I can get my fix anywhere. I’m not interested in being anyone’s fetish. So go fuck yourself, Duke Dolce.”
I shove the empty bottle back into his hand, push off the railing, and stalk back inside. Gloria’s long gone, but Dixie scurries over and hands me the drink she promised. “Let’s go up to the roof,” she says. “I heard you can see almost the entire town from there. I’ve never been up there. Have you?”
“Couple times,” I say, tipping the drink back and swallowing the entire contents in a few swallows. I don’t want to think about the last time I was up there, four years ago, on a prom night when all I could think about was Destiny. I don’t want to think about her, or that night, because it makes me realize how far away she is, how she’s fading, how I don’t even miss her lately. I loved her, but it was a stupid, innocent love, one that was both pure and shallow. There was no complexity to the way I felt, no depth, no reality. She was my fantasy come true, and now that’s all she’ll ever be—a fantasy.
I can’t touch her, can’t hold her, can’t bring her back. I can only hold onto her memory, tell myself lies about how I would have loved her forever and it would have been enough. I’d never have put a collar on her or ordered her to kneel and worship me. I could never have told her to crawl for me. I would have hidden what I needed like Duke does, but I’d still need my fix as much as he does. I make it out to be some great love story, but in reality, I’d probably have ended up doing to her what I’m doing to Dixie.
I hand the glass back to my girlfriend, empty of everything but ice, my mouth both sweet and as bitter as my pills.
Dixie’s eyes widen. “Was that a good idea?”
“No,” I say. “Want to make me another one?”
She giggles and hurries back around the bar to refill the glass. Then we head up to the roof to dance, and the rest of the night is as blank as my memory when I woke up in the hospital.