42. Lydia
Lydia
I take each finger in my hand, twisting and pulling on each one until it feels right, stuck in the cycle of trying to ease the unsettled way my body feels.
“You’re fidgeting, Lydia.”
I glare at Atlas sitting across from me in the backyard of his off-campus house. “I can’t help it.”
And I really can’t. Trying not to drink or use anything stronger until after our final midterms tomorrow has my skin crawling.
I know I’m not addicted to these things—not in the normal sense of how someone would be addicted to something.
I don’t need anything specific in my system to get through the day.
I just need a release, any release. Something to take the edge off.
Otherwise, the anxiety starts to show up physically, like it is right now, and I hate it.
Most of the time, I don’t even realize I’m doing these little things, but when I do notice myself doing them, or when someone points them out, or when I’m having a more stressful day than normal…
it becomes ten times worse. It triggers every inch of my body to feel off, and all my senses go into overdrive, driving me crazy and making me need to find any way to make it stop.
I watch as Atlas lights a blunt and takes the first inhale of smoke. He holds it in as he speaks. “Here,” he says, holding it out for me to take. “You need to relax.”
He blows out the thick smoke, and I instantly start waving it away while laughing. “Gross!”
I go to take the blunt from him, and as we’re both still holding it, he blows the rest of his smoke right in my face.
“Asshole.”
I snatch the blunt and shove him as he laughs at me.
We end up just passing the blunt back and forth and talking for a little bit, falling into the easy rhythm we have together before going back inside.
His two roommates and some other people I’ve never seen before are all hanging out in the living room together, drinking beer and watching a basketball game.
Atlas walks into the kitchen, and I follow him, hopping up and sitting on the counter.
“I need some Adderall for tomorrow,” I tell him, leaning back on my hands.
He walks over to me, putting his hands on top of my thighs. “You’re lucky you’re pretty, and I give you first dibs now, ‘cause I’m running low.”
“Let me guess. College midterm junkies?”
He smiles and rolls his eyes at me. “What does that make you?”
I shrug. “Just Lydia.”
“Touché.”
“So…” I start. “There’s this party tomorrow to celebrate midterms being over—”
“There’s a college party every time the wind blows, girl,” Atlas says flatly.
He walks over to the other side of the kitchen and pulls out a bag filled with blue pills from his backpack, dumping three into his hand and then putting them into another tiny bag before walking back over and handing it to me. “What are you really asking?”
I take the bag and slide it into the pocket of my jeans. “I was wondering…if you had anything new I could try. I’m feeling…celebratory.”
“You’ve only done Molly before and taken a little Adderall. Slow your roll.”
I give him my best pout face. “Hey! I’ve technically done bars too.”
“Taking Xanax for a panic attack is not doing Xanax, baby. Just like you don’t do those antidepressants you probably still need to be on, either.”
I cross my arms now, a little offended. “I told you that in confidence!”
He looks around the empty kitchen. “Are there other people in here you see that I don’t?”
I smack his arm. “Hush!” I tell him, shaking my head. “Excuse me for just trying to let my pharmacist know my medical history. I didn’t know he would start holding it against me.”
He snorts out a laugh. Like, actually snorts.
“I think I need to find a new drug dealer,” I say, still pretending to pout.
He tilts his head at me, smirking. “You just found this one not long ago. That’s a pretty quick turnover. But, I’ll tell you what…”
He opens the kitchen drawer right beside my leg and pulls out another bag of pills.
I look at them and then back up at him again. “Do you just have drugs everywhere in this house?”
He halts what he’s doing and looks up at me. “Not…everywhere.”
“Mhmm.”
“Do you want what I’m going to give you or not?”
I raise my hands slightly in the air. “Sorry, sorry.”
He pulls out two pills, and I look over to see what they are. “Are those just Xan?”
“Yeah, and it’s all you’re getting. It’s all you’re ready for right now.”
“But…what is that going to do for me? Xanax just makes me want to sleep when I take it.”
He places the two pills on the counter beside me and takes out his lighter, using it to crush the pills. Then he takes a card that’s sitting on the counter, using it to make two small rows of powder.
“It’s different like this. I can show you if you wanna try it now while you’re with me.”
My brows furrow in confusion. “I have my last midterm test tomorrow. The point was to not do anything that would prevent me from getting through them.”
“Snorting it will give you an instant high with different effects than swallowing the pill. It also wears off faster, so you’d be fine tomorrow for your test, especially taking that Addy beforehand.
Cancels it out, you know. You’ll be good.
And if you like it, you can do that instead of the Molly that gives you a harder comedown. ”
I weigh the choice in my head, desperate for something to take the edge off right now, and intrigued by the possibility of still being able to function afterwards.
I hop off the counter and stand beside Atlas, looking up at him. “Fine. Show me what to do.”
He smirks at me and then takes a twenty-dollar bill, rolling it up and leaning down to do the line. He stands back up, inhaling deeply and sniffing back the remainder in his nose.
He takes the card and cuts my line in half, relining it up. “You can start small.”
“You think I’m a lightweight?”
“Definitely.”
Whatever, challenge accepted.
I take the bill from him with more confidence than I should have right now when I’m about to snort a drug for the first time.
It’s safe, though, right? I’ve done Xanax before. It’s not like it’s completely new to my body or anything.
Before I can overthink it, I lean down and snort it quickly.
I expected the burn, so that doesn’t shock me too much.
I stand back up, coughing and sniffling, trying to get the bitter sensation and taste to go away.
I wipe the tears from my watery eyes and wait for the panic to come, but it doesn’t. Nothing bad happens.
I look over to Atlas and smile.
He nods, impressed. “That was kinda hot.”
I smile and wink at him. “I could do the other line—”
“No. See how you feel after that. You said you want to function for your test tomorrow, so don’t try to go overboard.”
“Party-pooper.”
It only takes minutes before this intense wave of sensations hits.
I get pretty dizzy at first, and Atlas holds me up, taking me into his room and putting me on the bed.
He lies down next to me, watching to see how I react.
This warm tingling sensation washes over my body, and it feels like someone just wrapped me up in a tight blanket.
A feeling that would normally make me feel claustrophobic feels…
comforting. My heart rate slows, and I lie on my back, staring up, smiling at my reflection in the mirrors on his ceiling. “Damn.”
I hear Atlas chuckle beside me. “Right?”
I turn my head to look at him. “This is way different than the Molly. I…” My words start to slur and are harder to get out. “I feel…” My eyes close, and I let the numbness take over. “Damn. Wow. Everything feels…floppy.”
“Floppy?” he asks. “That’s a new one.”
My eyelids feel too heavy to open back up. I just lie there and enjoy the wave I’m surfing on, focusing on every sensation I feel—not a single thought in my head.