40. Lydia #2
It’s easy to let them think it’s about them, too.
Easier to smile and kiss back and let them believe they’ve got me wrapped around their fingers.
The truth, though? The truth is, they never even touch me.
Not the real me. Because the second that door opens and the world comes back in—the lights, the music, the voices—I’m already gone again.
I leave before they get the chance to see the emptiness that follows, before they realize that the whole time, I wasn’t there at all.
I was somewhere safer. Somewhere that doesn’t exist. And damn, sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever figure out how to stay in the real world without needing to disappear like this.
“You’re gorgeous,” he murmurs, kissing along my jaw. “What’s your name?”
I pull myself back into this moment, trying not to overthink it. If I overthink it, I’ll end up stopping. I can’t stop.
“Lydia,” I tell him through panted breaths. “What’s yours?” Even though I don’t care. I don’t need to know. It doesn’t make this somehow magically mean something.
He tells me his name, but I barely catch it.
At—something, I think? I think he said Atlas?
I don’t know. I don’t ask him to repeat it.
I’m already pulling him back in. I can feel the alcohol haze starting to fade as we keep making out.
I hate when that happens…and when his hands leave me, and the contact disappears, the anxiety starts to slip back in.
I sit back on the bed and watch him walk over to the dresser, pulling out a bag from his pocket and pouring a couple of pills into his hand.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“Molly,” he says, turning around to look at me. “You want one?”
The old Lydia would have completely panicked at the mere mention of drugs.
I hated them. Hated what they took from me.
Hated what I’ve seen them do to people. But this Lydia?
The one who has swapped being curled up in bed, sad, and depressed, for searching for the best way to escape…
is intrigued. So I let the curiosity win.
“What does it feel like?”
He walks back over, holding them in his hand still. “Like…all the good things get louder. Colors. Touch. Music. And all the bad? Completely drowns it out.”
“Drowns out the bad?” I echo, needing him to give me some kind of promise of that being true.
He nods his head, walking closer. He gently nudges my legs open with his knee, and I oblige, letting him stand between them as he stares down at me.
Flashes of Camilla play in my head. The way I never understood why she did drugs when I was younger.
The way I had so much anger towards her for doing them and letting them take her from me.
In this moment, all that anger is gone. I understand what she was chasing now.
It just makes me sad, wondering what she was going through that made her want to escape so badly, the same way I do.
I think about how alone she must have been.
How alone I feel sometimes, even when I’m surrounded by people.
He puts his hand on my face, tracing his fingers along my jaw. “What are you trying to drown out?”
A thousand answers crowd my throat, so I answer in the simplest way I know how to.
“The pain…the pain of missing someone that I hate…the pain of missing someone else I wish was still here…the pain of all the fucked up things that have happened in my life.”
He just nods in understanding.
“I’ve never done drugs before,” I tell him. “They’ve always scared me. I don’t want to die or anything. I don’t think I do. I just…want to forget.”
He presses a kiss to my neck, and I lean into the feeling, letting it soothe the fears.
“You’ll be fine,” he whispers. “I promise. I’ll give you half. It’ll help you forget about some of the pain…and I’ll help you forget about the rest, okay?”
I silently nod.
“Stick your tongue out.”
I do as he tells me, getting turned on by how comfortable he’s able to make me feel about this. He breaks one of the pills and gently places it on the center of my tongue before moving his hand to my chin and guiding my mouth closed. He pops one in his mouth, too.
“Swallow it for me.”
As soon as I do, the panic starts to hit me.
What did I do? Why did I do that? What if I hate the way it feels? What if it fucks up my brain even more?
He must see the panic in my eyes because he leans down with his lips hovering just slightly over mine. “Just relax. You’re okay. It’ll kick in a moment, and the anxiety will go away. Tell me what I can do to make you feel better.”
“Just…keep touching me.”
He trails several kisses down my neck until he reaches my collarbone, and then slips a hand under my dress.
I pull him down on top of me, forcing myself to breathe and stay calm.
Right as it feels like the panic attack is going to take over, this calm rushes over me.
Suddenly, everything slows down and gets quiet.
Every place his skin touches mine starts to light up, more intense than anything I’ve felt before.
He pulls back, studying me. “How are you feeling?”
“Good…” I pant out, nodding. “Better.”
“Good,” he says with a slow smile. “I told you you would. Now, lie back and let me handle the rest.”
* * *
I lie there with my head tipped back, chest heaving. The world feels like it’s humming. My skin is buzzing, hypersensitive to everything. This is nothing like being drunk. It feels like being unchained from myself.
He brushes a thumb along my cheek. “You okay?”
I give him a small, dazed smile. “Better than okay. I feel so…happy?”
“Yeah, it’s really good, huh?”
I nod and tilt my head to the door. “I don’t wanna waste this feeling. Let’s go back to the party.”
We get dressed, and he takes my hand, leading me back out of the room, but I stop him midway. He looks back at me, confused for a moment.
“What if…I wanna do that again? How do I…”
He chuckles and reaches his hand out. “Give me your phone.”
I watch as he puts his number in and texts himself from my phone.
“Just text me whenever you want anything. I’ll take care of you.”
He hands me my phone, and then we make our way back out into the party.
I fall easily back into the rhythm of the music and the movement of bodies, still feeling like I’m floating.
I don’t know if two minutes or two hours pass by.
I feel too good to have any concept of time right now.
That is, until I feel a hand grab me aggressively, and I look over to see who the hand rudely belongs to.
I see Lani, and I can see her mouth moving, but I can’t hear any words.
I don’t think I can hear anything at all, actually, or maybe I’ve just tuned it all out; I don’t know.
I shake my head, trying to focus back on her. “Huh?” I shout.
“What did you take, Lydia?”
She looks worried…and a little mad.
I give her a smile, trying to reassure her. “I’m good, Lani! Relax.”
That answer doesn’t seem like it helped. She looks more irritated now. She starts to drag me away from the crowd of people, and I look back, giving…um…At…? Atlas! That’s it—I give Atlas an apologetic look. He waves me off, mouthing ‘it’s fine’.
Lani pulls me down onto a couch with her, and then she puts my head in her hands, forcing my wandering attention to focus on her.
“What. Did. You. Take?”
I can’t help but laugh a little. Geez, I wish she could feel this right now. She wouldn’t be so high-strung if she did.
“It’s just Molly, Lan.”
The shock in her eyes tells me she suspected I took something, but the confirmation is still surprising to her.
“Have you taken Molly before? Or anything else?”
I close my eyes and press my lips together like I’m thinking deeply.
“Nope…I have not,” I answer her.
“Come on. We’re getting out of here.”
She goes to stand up, taking my arm again, and I jerk it away.
“What? No! I want to stay. I’m having a good time!”
“I am not letting you stay here like this.”
I sigh, not really wanting to fight with her and ruin my good mood. So I let her lift me up and walk me back to our dorm. I don’t have to be at a party to still ride this high.
When we get inside our dorm, I see that Simone is already asleep for the night. She looks so peaceful and sweet. So innocent and happy. So…not fucked up like me. I pray nothing ever changes that.
Hell, what’s a prayer going to do, though? No one’s ever answered any of mine before.
I let Lani guide me over to my bed, and she helps slip off my shoes before getting me under the covers. She sits down on the side of the bed, staring at me as she tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.
“Are you mad at me, Lani?” I ask when I see the look on her face.
She forces a small smile before answering. “No…I’m just worried. I don’t want to see you do anything you end up regretting.”
Too late for that.
“I’m okay. I promise. I just wanted to have some fun and not have to be so in my head for one night.”
She nods like she understands, but I don’t know if she really does. I don’t know if anyone does.
“Don’t…don’t tell Simone about tonight, okay? I don’t want her to worry. She’s always worrying about me,” I slur. “I hate being such a burden to her all the time.”
Lani shakes her head. “I don’t think she thinks that way, Lydia…but…I won’t tell her. Just…promise me you’re okay, right? You’re not going to do anything to hurt yourself?”
I take her hand and squeeze it. “I won’t.”
She squeezes my hand back and then gets up, slipping into her own bed.
I lay there for what feels like forever until I know Lani is fully asleep before getting back out of bed.
There’s no way I’m getting any sleep, not feeling like this.
I feel wired, like I could run a marathon right now.
And I’ve never run a day in my life. Well, except from my problems, but that’s metaphorically.