Mouse Bones and Orange Juice
Doug put the pills next to an old jar of bleached white mouse bones that he kept on his shelf. The bones were a recent addition: he had vague memories of him as a child finding them in the garage and feeling frightened, but he had for some reason warmed up to them enough so that when his mother suggested they throw them out had taken them for his room instead. Something that played at the edge of his consciousness told him that the two items should go together.
He still wasn't sure if he was going to use the drugs or not, and so he lay down in his bed to think about it. Sure, they were guaranteed to work, and he knew that he would enjoy their effects, but maybe Skeeter was right, maybe they were wrong. And, he told himself, there was always the outside chance that he wouldn't need the drugs, that maybe Patti wanted same thing that he did...
A sound jolted him out of his thoughts: the phone was ringing. He reached over and picked it up. There was a too familiar voice on the other end. It was Patti.
"Hey, Doug?" she asked. He swallowed his heart and stammered out an answer.
"Y-yes?" he replied.
"Hey, I'm glad that I caught you. You see, we're holding a surprise birthday party for Beebe on Friday, and we were wondering if you could come."
"A party? Yeah, sure." Doug didn't really like Beebe, but any chance to see Patti was worth it, he thought.
"Great. Try and be there for eight." She paused. "...and Doug?" She sounded hesitant, nervous, so unlike Patti. His heart rose and fell at the same time, struggling to get some sort of bearing inside his heaving chest. He knew that something was up.
"Yeah?" There was silence from the other end; the only sound he could hear was her soft breathing. He knew that her next words would change his life forever.
"Uh, do you think that Skeeter is going to come? I'd really like to see him there."
Skeeter. Of course. Why hadn't he seen it before? He was stupid to think that he'd ever have a chance with Patti. If he wanted her he would have to take charge, be forceful. He would need the drugs.
"Sure, I'm positive that he will go. In fact, he's coming over here later tonight if you want to hang out." It wasn't an outrageous lie, they were best friends, after all.
She said she would love to. The excitement in her voice sickened him.
He was getting more and more used to the idea.
Doug was ready when she came; everything had been planned to the last detail. He only hoped now that his performance would not be so marred by eagerness that Patti might clue into the situation.
The doorbell. He gave himself a once over in the mirror before answering, needless considering the circumstances, but he felt that it was better to check, just in case. He would give her one more chance.
He opened the door. She looked amazing. Doug was momentarily stunned, taken aback by her beauty. It took him a minute to regain his composure. Of course she looks good, he told himself, she thinks that she is going to see Skeeter.
"It's just us for now," he said, "Skeeter should be here soon." She didn't look too impressed with that information, she seemed almost disappointed, in fact. Doug interpreted this as meaning that she was already tired of his company, that she was going to make the situation needlessly awkward because of it. That didn't make him very happy.
"Would you like a drink while we wait?" he asked her, gesturing towards the kitchen.
"Thanks. I'd love one."
"Is orange juice cool? Or a Coke, maybe?" He hoped that she didn't ask for something clear, like water or Sprite – he was worried that the roofies wouldn't dissolve so untraceably in that.
"Orange juice sounds fine," she smiled.
"Great," he smiled back. "Why don't you go wait in my room, and I'll be right up with the drinks," he finished, pointing up the stairs.
She left, and he went to work. He moved quickly, spilling some of the orange juice and the ground Rohypnol, which he had prepared earlier, onto the counter, concentrating on getting the drug to dissolve as clearly as he could manage. He didn't bother cleaning up when he was done.
He found her inspecting the jar of bones on his return, a look of curiosity on her face.
"What was this?" she asked.
"A mouse," he replied, putting down her drink.
"Poor thing. How did it get in there?"
"It was my Dad's. From when he was about my age, I think."
"God, I would hate to be in a jar like that. Everyone staring at my mangled bones for thirty years after I died."
"It's just a mouse," he said, taking a long sip of his drink and hoping that he wasn't making too big of a deal about it.
She took a sip of her orange juice too. He tried to pretend like he wasn't paying much attention, but he watched her closely the whole time.
"Hey, this is good! I've never had it quite like this before," she said.
"Funnie family recipe," Doug replied, smiling.
"Well it's very – oh! Sorry about that!" her drink tumbled to the ground, managing to spill all over Doug in the process. She was already losing motor control. It was happening much faster than he could have hoped.
"I don't know what came over me – one minute I was holding the drink, and the next..." There was shame in her eyes. Doug put his hand on her shoulder.
"Hey- don't worry about it. I'll just go clean up. It's just a little orange juice, no harm done."
He left for the bathroom and she sat on the bed. He ran the tap.
She spoke through the open doorway: "I'm really glad that you invited me here," she said, "even if Skeeter is coming." A pause as she listened to him wash up. "Doug, there's something else that I wanted to ask you on the phone today, only that I didn't have the courage to do it then. I really like you, Doug, and ... and I was..." she fell back on the bed, unconscious.
"I'm sorry, what did you say?" he said, coming into the room as he finished wiping his hands dry. "I couldn't hear you over the sound of the water running."
He stopped and looked at her more closely.
"Patti? Can you hear me, Patti?" She could not.
He walked over to the door and closed it, a thin smile playing upon his lips. He would have to remember to thank Deeter.