Chapter 18
Chapter
Eighteen
BLAIRE
Ineeded to get high. I needed to get high now. Higher than the one puny hit with Leon. My bones ached, and I was so tired of hurting.
A contradiction, that’s what I was. A walking, talking, fucked up contradiction.
I felt too much, but I felt nothing.
I remember it all, but I remembered not nearly enough.
I wanted Winder, but I couldn’t have him.
Turning everything off sounded like the best option I had. Through the kitchen doorway, I saw two girls, laughing without a care in the world. I wanted to be like them.
I beelined across the room, shoving people out of my way. Their heads popped up in unison when they heard me enter the kitchen, but neither seemed concerned at the intrusion.
The dark-haired girl smiled. “Hey.”
My brain stumbled over the words I wanted to say, so instead I offered a simple, “Hi.”
The blonde left her friend, stroking my hair. It was oddly maternal, in a way I hadn’t experienced in a long time, and I didn’t feel the need to pull away. “You look sad,” she said. “You’re too pretty to be sad. Pretty girls aren’t supposed to cry.”
Pretty girls weren’t supposed to black out the memory of their boyfriend’s murder, either, or kill people, so I wasn’t sure where that left me. I choked back a sob, grateful for the unexpected kindness. “Can you help me forget?”
It was a strange thing to ask, wanting to forget what I had forgotten. But remembering was too painful, and acknowledging I had forgotten in the first place was worse.
“Of course we can,” the blonde said, still petting my hair. Her touch was so light, so soft, I could’ve been imagining it. “Open your mouth.”
I did as I was told, gaping like a baby bird waiting to be fed. The brunette took a small pink pill between her finger and her thumb, and placed it gently on my tongue. “Swallow.”
I gulped the pill down dry, desperate to not be here any longer. I smiled at them both. “Thank you. What was that?”
“Molly.” The brunette rolled her hips out of time to the music, dancing to a beat I couldn’t hear. “You have a little while before it starts working if you want to tell us why you’re sad.”
Molly. I had never taken ecstasy. Well, maybe I had. The line between real and fake was blurred so much, I struggled to remember which side of the line I was on.
The blonde nodded, holding me at arm’s length. “You’re our friend now. And we’re really good listeners.”
I had nothing left to lose at this point.
If this wasn’t rock bottom, I’d hate to see what was.
I gave them the simplest explanation. “I can’t remember some really bad stuff that happened to me.
And I feel so guilty I can’t remember. I don’t know what’s real in my life anymore. Is my name even my name?”
“Names don’t matter.” The brunette shook her head seriously. “You don’t know our names, and we’re best friends now.”
“Everyone forgets bad stuff. It’s easier that way,” the blonde added. “Did he break up with you?”
“Who?” I asked.
“Your boyfriend. The scary one you were with, who looked like he wanted to kill Leon.”
“Shhh!” The brunette giggled. “Don’t say things like that.”
She shrugged. “It’s true though. Was he mean to you? Did he break up with you because you forgot something important?”
The edges of my brain were softening. The hurt was dimming, but everything seemed so much brighter. These girls were right. They were my best friends.
I laughed, but it didn’t sound like my laugh.
I was an imposter, a faker wearing a mask of my face.
What was my real face? Did anyone know? “You mean Winder. He’s not my boyfriend.
He’s my boyfriend’s brother. Well, he used to be.
My boyfriend… my boyfriend is dead now. That’s what I forgot, that he died. ”
The brunette tugged on my hands, pulling me to dance with her. I could hear the music she was dancing to now, a quiet beat too happy to even think about sadness. “He doesn’t look at you like he wants to kill you.”
“Thank you? I think.” I laughed, and I could see the sound in colors right in front of me, a rainbow symphony.
“I mean, he looks at everyone else that way. Not you, though. The way he looks at you is like…” she trailed off, a frown creasing her perfect face.
“Cotton candy,” the blonde offered.
“Cotton candy,” she repeated seriously. “He looks at you like cotton candy.”
I nodded, somehow understanding what they meant. “But he’s my boyfriend’s brother.”
“Ex-boyfriend,” she corrected, wrapping her arms around my neck as we swayed.
“Besides, doesn’t that just mean you guys already know each other?
It wasn’t like you married the guy. Even if he didn’t die, you might’ve broken up.
Maybe this would’ve happened no matter what, your scary not-boyfriend looking at you like you’re cotton candy. ”
Everything she said made perfect sense to me. Even if I hadn’t forgotten everything, maybe I would’ve ended up this way, right here anyway. Contentment stretched through every inch of my body, and I couldn’t possibly see how I had been so sad a minute ago.
I wasn’t lost. I just hadn’t been high enough to see reality.
“Blaire.”
The brunette giggled again. “Your scary not-boyfriend is here.”
I turned around to see Winder in the doorway to the kitchen, eyes dark. He ran his gaze up and down, while I continued to dance with my new friends.
“Hi, Winder.” I waggled my fingers at him. “You should dance with us.”
“Are you high?” His voice didn’t sound happy. At all, actually. Maybe he needed some Molly, too.
“You told me I get high all the time. Why do you sound so grumpy about it now?” I rolled my eyes. Winder was stressing over nothing.
“Because you made an enemy out of Leon, and now you’re getting high in his kitchen. Probably wasn’t the wisest choice,” he snapped.
“Don’t be such a killjoy.”
I was snatched away from my new friends by the waist. “If you want to get high and forget everything I told you, fine. But you don’t do it here. We’re leaving.”
I pouted, but Winder had size on me, and carried me out of the house without any trouble. “I didn’t even get to say goodbye to my best friends.”
Winder stood me up on the sidewalk, crouching to look at my eyes under the streetlight.
He was so pretty up close like this, I didn’t know how I hadn’t noticed it before.
His eyes were like the ocean, churning, churning, churning.
I bet if I looked closely enough, I’d see a tiny version of myself drowning in them.
“What did they give you?” he asked, pulling up my eyelid slightly.
I swatted at his hand, trying and failing to free myself from his grip. “Just some molly. Can you relax? I was a little traumatized.”
“For fuck’s sake.” Winder didn’t look mad like I thought he would. He looked sad, sad, sad. “Blaire, what were you thinking?”
“Too much.” I took a step forward, tripping on my toes, and righting myself with a laugh. “I was thinking too much. But they fixed it. I’m okay now.”
Okay. Ooookaaaayy. I was a-okay. I could barely even remember what I was so upset about before.
Blood, I thought, for one. Lots of blood.
A river of blood. I looked up at the sky, at all the space I never bothered to look at closely before.
The stars were so pretty, and they were all different colors.
Had the sky always been this beautiful, and I just hadn’t noticed?
Winder grabbed my wrist, and I stopped looking at the stars. “Hey!”
“You were about to walk out into the street.” A muscle jumped in his cheek, and I wanted to kiss him right there. “Are you going to be okay walking home?”
“I’m fine, Captain Boring. You know, you should really try some of this sometime.
It might make you a lot less grumpy.” I placed one foot in front of the other, following the cracks in the sidewalk.
If I fell off, someone would die, but I couldn’t remember who.
Winder might remember, but he was grouchy right now.
Winder huffed. “I don’t touch that stuff anymore.”
I didn’t look up from the crack, not wanting to fall off. I was doing really well, until Winder’s giant foot stepped right in my path, causing me to stumble sideways. “Winder!”
Now someone was dead. I still couldn’t remember who, but I could almost make out the edges of their face, like an old photograph.
“If I let you walk home, it’s going to take us all night, and you’re going to freeze to death.” He turned around, crouching. “Get on.”
A laugh bubbled out of my throat before I could stop it. “Are you for real?”
“Your options are getting on my back, or having me carry you the entire way home. I thought you’d prefer the choice with a bit more dignity.” He patted his shoulder. “Let’s go.”
Walking the entire way sounded like a great idea in theory, but my legs were also a little tired.
I flopped my arms around Winder’s neck, and as he stood I tried to wrap my legs around his waist with as much dignity as I could muster.
Unfortunately, dignity was limited in my tiny dress and my scattered brain.
Winder grabbed my legs, and started to walk, but I couldn’t focus on anything other than his touch. I wanted his hands higher, and I wanted them everywhere.
I shivered, even though I didn’t feel the slightest bit cold.
“You good?” he asked, squeezing my thigh.
Oh God. He had to know what he was doing to me. His fingers digging into my flesh were driving me wild, and I was certain he could see my heart pounding as if it was projected into the night sky. “I’m good,” I squeaked out. “You’re warm.”
You’re warm. That’s what I came up with?
Never mind the fact I could feel his back muscles rippling with every step, or the way his breath warmed my hands.
Forget the fact his thumb was drawing circles into my skin, a tattoo I’d never be able to wipe off, and I wasn’t even sure if he realized it. But, no. You’re warm.