Author's note: This is a bit of short one, but the additional scene I wanted to include wasn't quite ready in time. I'm heading on holiday (off to the US!) for the next couple of weeks, so rather than not post for three weeks, I thought I'd keep you going with this shorter, yet important, chapter. The next couple of chapters after this one are big so I'll be worth your patience! Thank you a million times for the reviews on the last chapter. I love reading them and they keep me motivated. I'm so glad there are people out there enjoying reading this as much as I enjoy writing it.
Chapter XI
She returned to the hearth, and frankly extended her hand. He blackened and scowled like a thunder-cloud—
I tried to concentrate on the words in front of me, neat typeface on yellowed paper, but a gentle hand had pulled back my hair, away from my face. Soft kisses were being planted along my neck. It was impossible to focus.
Distracted from the book that I held, I placed it on the table. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the sensation of Eddie's lips grazing my bare skin. Hitting just the right spot on my neck, they sent a shiver down my spine.
We sat on the sofa in the den. We used to have one study session a week, but since our first kiss at school, Eddie came to my house twice a week – under the guise of additional tuition, of course. It was the only time we had to ourselves. At school, we could only manage glances in the hallway and cafeteria or sitting at desks next to each other in History class. This time, the sounds of my dad's old records played softly in the background. The rest of my family were out.
"Eddie…" I breathed, trying to muster the impetus to protest, but unable to resist. I turned and met his lips.
Before long, we were laid out on the sofa, Eddie on top of me, his body pressed between my legs. One hand was on my bare thigh, just beyond the hem of my skirt. My own hands made their way beneath his t-shirt, feeling the smooth skin of his back and pulling him even closer to me.
"We said we wouldn't get distracted again," I reminded him, not really wanting him to stop.
I was soon distracted by a soft tug. One of Eddie's hands had made its way up to my hair, pulling my head to one side to reveal the nape of my neck. He began planting kisses behind my ear again. The feel of his hot breath on my neck made me melt. The other hand had glided up my top, surpassing my underwear, to cup my breast. His thumb grazed my nipple, and I couldn't help but let out a moan. He paused, collapsing on top of me and burying his face in the crook of my neck.
"You're right, I should stop." His voice was muffled by my hair. He got up from the sofa, as if to distance himself from me, the distraction. Although, this time, he had distracted me.
"You don't have to." I sat up and gave him my best alluring eyes from my position on the sofa. He had enthralled me and now I didn't want him to stop. I wanted to feel his warm hand slide beneath my clothes again.
"I'm a bad influence on you, Hartley," he chuckled.
"Oh please," I said, rolling my eyes. He sat down heavily next to me again, once he had regained his composure.
"I don't wanna… you know, corrupt you." I thought he was joking at first, but he looked at me earnestly.
"Corrupt me?" I laughed openly at his comment. I waited for him to laugh back but he didn't. "You're serious, aren't you?"
"Yeah!" He leant forward, elbows on his knees, palms touching. He looked at me seriously. "You're like this good girl."
"Good girl?" I repeated, still baffled.
I sat back, unable to quite comprehend what he was saying. This wasn't a one-way thing. I was pretty sure we both wanted it just as much as the other. To suggest that he somehow might corrupt me was absurd – he certainly wasn't putting any ideas in my head that hadn't already thought about...
I leaned in towards him, my voice low and sultry – my best attempt to prove him wrong. "What makes you think I don't want this just as much as you do?"
He didn't answer, only looked at me steadily in an unreadable way. He seemed to be thinking over my question, but what he thought of it, I couldn't tell. Another of his indecipherable moments.
"What makes you think I don't want you to touch me?" I continued.
He said nothing but watched as I took one of his hands and placed it back on my thigh. I could feel the callouses on his palm as I moved it, a feather light touch, all the way up and under my skirt until the tips of his fingers grazed my underwear. I watched his face; his lips parted, breathing heavy. His pink tongue wet his lips in a slow movement that almost made me lose control of the moment.
I leant forward further, and when I was close enough, he pulled me impatiently into a kiss. His hand gripped the flesh of my bum and this gesture of his desire was all the impetus I needed to spring forward. Swinging one leg over him, I straddled him on the sofa. I took a moment to savour the delicious feeling of being on top of him, pressing my hips into his and pulling his hair back to kiss him fiercely. His hands gripped my waist, the tips of his fingers grazed the bare skin above the hem of my skirt.
When he pulled away again. I didn't hide my disappointment well.
"Why did you stop?" I frowned.
"Not here," he said in a low voice, shaking his head. I moved off him and he stood up, shaking off like he always did after things got a bit too heated.
"Why not?"
A lot of our sessions ended this way. Just as things heated up, something interrupted us. Usually, it was one of us finally deciding to be sensible, but once it had been the sound of my mom coming home from the grocery store. That time had been a close call.
It wasn't that I wanted us to go further on the couch in the den at my house in the brief window of privacy we had while my family was out – it wasn't exactly romantic – but I was ready for more. It felt right.
My mom had always told me guys were always out to take something from you. I hadn't always known quite what they were taking, but I'd understood once I'd got older. And for that reason, she thought I should be afraid of them, But Eddie never seemed to be taking anything from me. In fact—shit, in moments like these, it felt like he was giving me everything.
"Don't get me wrong, Hartley, I fucking want this so bad," he said. He gave me an appraising look as I sat there on the sofa, hair tousled and skirt riding up to my hips – an entirely un-ladylike and yet somewhat alluring pose. "But when we finally do it, it won't be like this."
My heart skipped a beat at the thought of what might come in the future.
He clambered up and off me again. He extended a hand to pull me up with him, ever the gentleman. I pouted in disappointment, but he was right. I glanced at the clock across the room, my mom would be back soon. Eddie followed my gaze, and no doubt came to the same conclusion. He rose from the sofa once again, getting ready to leave. He gave a stretch and picked up his bag from by the table, which was still strewn with our books and notepads in some vague attempt at studying. He reached into his bag and pulled out my payment, following the same protocol that he had in every session since the start. Except this time, he seemed to hesitate.
"Do you… still want these?" He shook the little metal tin that held my supply, the few pills left inside tinkled against the sides.
I cleared my throat, suddenly feeling flustered. This topic was still something we never talked about. "Erm, yeah."
"You still using them then?" he asked, making it sound as casual as possible.
"Sometimes." I shrugged as if it didn't matter.
"Do you, er, think that's a good idea?"
"Do you think drug dealing's a good idea?" I tilted my head at him. Not angry, but not willing to be the only one scrutinised.
"Fair point," he nodded, putting the tin back down on the table and dropping one more pill into it. There was a moment of silence between us where neither of us quite knew what to say.
"It's just until the end of senior year. Then I'll stop," I explained. I turned my voice sultry, wanting to distract him from that topic of conversation. "There's something else that's occupying a lot of my time right now…"
I stood up and walked over to him.
"Oh yeah?" He cocked his head back, showing his strong jaw and pointed chin.
"Yeah, and I need to make sure I don't, you know, fall behind." I raised my hand and moved a loose strand of hair from his face.
"We can't have that now, can we?" he replied in a low voice, matching my flirtatious tone and pulling me in for one last kiss before he left.
Those weeks were almost perfect. Almost.
I was successfully juggling time with Eddie, schoolwork, and all my extracurricular activities. But after my conversation with Eddie in the den, taking the pills had all started to feel dirty, wrong.
It was only once I was that much closer to him that I started feeling ashamed of my habit. After our first kiss, he continued to bring me a pill for every tutoring session, but whereas before it felt transactional, business-like, things changed. After the conversation, I felt embarrassed. It wasn't that he knew the secret about me, it was that he knew the weakness. Despite his kindness, his affection, the soft side that he hid from all but those closest to him that made me feel so comfortable around him, I felt vulnerable. If I thought about it long enough, it made me feel unworthy of him. He was by no means perfect – he was the one who'd sold me the pills first, of course – but I didn't like that side of me – the one that could lie so easily. It wasn't me, not really.
He didn't say it, but there had been discomfort in his words. I wanted to stop, he made me want to stop taking them, but the truth was that I needed them – in fact, I needed more of them. The effects didn't feel quite as strong after a while. In between our tutoring sessions, I started feeling restless. Within a day or two, that week's supply was gone, and I couldn't bring myself to ask Eddie for more – especially not after our conversation about them.
One afternoon, I asked casually, and Eddie told me where he got his supply from. It didn't take much for me to piece together this information, along with the vague memory of Eddie pointing out his friend's house as we drove back from Lover's Lake on my birthday. I'd felt guilty but by the end of the week, I've gone to Reefer Rick's house, and he's hit me up with more. Enough to last a month or so, as much as my savings can get me without leaving me broke. I had to remind myself while I was there why it was worth it – all this risk and sneaking around. Now I was even lying to Eddie. Guilt streaked through me with every thought of it.
It's only until the end of the school year, I had repeated to myself the moment Rick handed over the supply.
He was sceptical at first. I couldn't blame him. I probably wasn't your average drug user – a prim looking eighteen-year-old girl driving her mom's Audi straight out of Loch Nora. Or perhaps there were more of us than I thought. I had to admit that I'd had second thoughts when I'd seen him appear at the door, but he'd softened when I mentioned Eddie's name. Some extra money and the promise of a recurring customer made him swear to keep our encounter quiet, even from his friend. Another thing I felt guilty about.
Even now, I still feel that guilt. Not my proudest moment. I can blame the pressure of school, of my mom, the feelings I had of frustration and anger, the feelings of restlessness that I felt that needed something to distract me from them, but they're all just excuses. It was wrong. I knew it at the time, and I still know it now. I'm to blame for what happens next, at least partly. It started the day I spoke to Eddie in the library, and every time I took a pill, I was laying the foundations for what was to come. By going to Reefer Rick's, I was building the walls.
But at this point, it was done, and I had what I wanted. No harm done, I told myself at the time. Naïve, much?
The first double dose hit me like a train. That was dumb. I arrived at school practically bouncing off the walls. I had thrown the pills up in the bathroom before the end of first period. It was the first time I had felt wary about what this was doing to me. Insomnia I could handle but being hunched over a cold ceramic toilet in the school bathroom, trying not to breathe in the heavy stench of bleach and heaven knows what else as I hurled up the contents of my stomach, didn't feel very dignified or clever.
But then it wore off. Once I was back to my normal self, it was easy to forget what had happened and I didn't think on it any longer. Instead of stopping, I just dialled it back a bit for the next dose, arriving at something more manageable, and I added this new worry to the pile that was already stacked at the back of my mind.
Ignorance was to remain bliss.
