8. Blake – “Music is love in search of a word.”-Sidney Lanier
8
Blake
“Music is love in search of a word.”-Sidney Lanier
Her lips were toxic to the touch. But in a good way. She tasted warm and cottony. Dream-like, but also piercing. Puncturing my existence, exactly like a venomous wish that I knew most likely wouldn’t come true. She was troubled and gorgeously addictive at the same time. I kissed her hungrily, thrusting into her mouth. I wanted to do nasty things to her. Erasing the thought of Toby ever crossing her mind. It scared me a little. These thoughts started last year and my hatred for Toby continued to grow, but I shouldn’t be worried about him right now.
Our tongues swirled together, and she tasted like bubble gum and sugary icing. If we stayed this way forever, it could erase all the pain. There’s so much I wanted to say to her. Colt and his girlfriend were getting way more serious than I ever thought possible since they barely saw each other, and now he was too busy to even take a piss without putting it on his schedule. I was sure Melissa would get fed up, but she hasn’t. She’s still sticking around, and regardless of my brother's absence, marriage has been brought up twice already.
Colt suspected I was using, so he started dragging me to therapy twice a week, along with doing drug tests twice a month. He patted me down to make sure I didn’t sneak any synthetic pee each time he tested me, sitting outside the bathroom door like a fucking guard dog. He was home much more often than not during the off-season, so this was no problem for him to do. In answer to his BS, I started drinking more. Plus, I found a way to flush out weed from my system in one week. I just had to make sure I wasn’t smoking all the time like I used to. And the fact I was pretty lean made it easy to flush the THC from my system as long as I worked out and sweated every day. I may not be good at English, but I sure and hell was good at bullshitting.
I had relapsed and done cocaine and meth occasionally when I wanted to feel absolutely nothing, which is precisely what I wanted to feel since the honeymoon phase of my dad and Stacey was dying down already. They always argued, which meant Dad was on edge more than usual—making him more of a dick to be around. I was starting to think Colt was right about Dad all along, and instead of me being able to confide in Colt I kept it all bottled up. Colt was too busy playing pro football, along with Captain save-a hoe by always stepping in to play the role of my dad instead of my actual dad. Everything seemed so hopeless, at a boiling point, like it would never get better. And catching more feelings for Abs is a bad idea right now. But I couldn’t help but hold onto her thick, luscious hair as we groped one another in our makeout session.
Abigail groaned in my mouth, and I tightened my hold on her neck. I was so hard, and she was so soft. Our kiss grew deeper, more passionate. I allowed myself fifteen more seconds before I broke it off. I etched her taste into my memory. Fresh. Sweet. Innocent. Another nibble, Another tongue stroke, Another kiss. Then I let go, forcing my dick back down in my pants with a blazed smile on my face.
“Happy birthday, My toxic wish.”