Warning: slight mention of sexual abuse towards the end of the chapter.
Surreptitious: (adj) kept secret, especially because it would not be approved of.
"Hurry up!" Alex shouted at Phil and me while we sulked through the doors of the train station.
"It's too early for this shit," I whined at her. I barely got any sleep. I'm surprised I even remembered my bag. Alex made us leave early.
"One of my friend's friend's sister was waiting for a train once and it left a half hour earlier than they said it would," she had said.
Finally, our train came (on time), we boarded, and I ended up falling asleep for the whole train ride.
Chloe's friends asked us to get there in the morning. There was still dew on the windows of the unfamiliar buildings we passed.
After riding in a cab for what felt like forever, we finally arrived at a large house just outside of the actual town, with no neighbors as far as the eye could see. Alex stopped in front of the door and searched through her bag until she pulled out a key, unlocked it, and went inside. We followed her as she went upstairs. Soon after, we started arguing about who gets to sleep where. Since they're attached at the hip, Dan and Phil were okay sharing a room, which left Alex and I with our own.
Hours later, while we waited for everyone to finish getting ready, Alex ran downstairs, dressed in black skinny jeans, a black MGMT t-shirt, and black Vans.
"Um, you're not wearing that, are you?" Alma, one of Chloe's friends, said. "I am not going anywhere with you looking like that. Do you have anything that makes you look like you're not ready for a funeral?" Alex shook her head. "I'll let you borrow something of mine." The two ran up the stairs. From my place on the sofa, I could hear Alex explain that she won't wear anything that isn't black.
The two came down a few minutes later. This time, she came down in a black top that came just above her belly button to show off her radiating brown skin, pleather leggings that rested on her hips, and the same black Vans. On top her head was an old-fashion headband with a knot on the top that complimented her deep black hair.
"You look...great," I stuttered out as I stared at her. Once she cleared her throat, I realized that I had been staring for way too long. "You ready to go?" I held my arm out so we could link our elbows and be on our way to whatever party the rich kids decided to go to.
Music roared throughout the house, so loud that I couldn't even hear my own thoughts. Strangers danced in front of me while I just stood on the sidelines. Phil isn't really someone who goes to parties, so only Dan came. Alex, however, did come and quickly drank too much. The rest of us simply stuck to one small cup each.
Every now and then, some smelly kid with pupils the size of the moon would come up to us and offer us pills or powder or something to smoke. I rejected at once. Alex didn't. Dan looked like he considered it, but ultimately rejected when he looked back at Alex. Thank God, she didn't get out of her mind high, but high enough that she was hanging all over random guys and slurring her words. Her pupils dilated so much that it was indistinguishable from iris.
We tried to get her to take it easy, but she said she knows what she's doing. We kept an eye on her to make sure she stayed safe. Maybe I'm just ignorant, but nothing seemed to change about her. Isn't that the point of club drugs? Or maybe she just has a high tolerance? Either way, we watched her.
Almost two hours later, Alex was still at it. Some guy looked like he was overstepping some boundaries, judging by Alex's face, so I decided to intervene. Of course, she doesn't need me to save her, she's perfectly capable of doing that herself, but this man was making her obviously uncomfortable.
"So," the guy said as I walked up, "where are you from? I love your accent. You seem so exotic."
"I'm Canadian," she said, give me a pleading look.
"Hey, baby," I said as I put my arm around her. "I've been looking everywhere for you." The guy asked who I am. "I'm her boyfriend. Who are you?"
"I'm just leaving," he grunted. The mystery man walked away to bother some other poor soul.
"Thanks. I owe you one," Alex sighed.
Alex
Parties have never been my thing. Drinking has never been my thing either. I say this as someone who frequently does both, but I never said I particularity enjoyed them. The mystery pills and powders at the party are my thing. I know it's probably a hundred times worse than drinking, but it never stopped me.
As I danced among the crowd, out of the corner of my eye, a boy I knew named Nick walked into sight. A boy who owes me a ton of money. Before I could stop myself, I started walking towards him. He spotted me and bolted out the door while I chased after him.
"Hey!" I shouted to Nick. Once he realized that the backdoor doesn't lead to an alley, he stopped and turned towards me. "I want the money you owe me."
"I don't have any on me," he said.
"What do you mean you don't have any on you?" I shouted at him. "Do you have anything on you?" He nodded his head. "How much?" He said fifty pounds worth, which is half of what he owes me. I told him to give me that and then pay me the rest later. A few seconds after Nick went inside I was already debating if I wanted to give up three weeks of sobriety. Adrian would know what to do. Before I could finish the clean line on the back of my ID, a familiar voice interrupted me.
"What are you doing?" Dan said as he came into the backyard. He glanced at the small bag in my hand. "What's that?"
"Nothing," I said as I tried to hide the baggie behind my back. I was fast, but he was faster.
"What is this?" he demanded, snatching the bag out of my hand. "Is this cocaine?"
"No!" I said. Well, it isn't. He just kept prying more and more. Damn, this boy just won't give up.
"Please, Alex, just tell me," he begged.
"It's nothing," I snapped back. "Damn, just mind your own business."
Dan didn't say anything. He just sat down on the stairs we had been standing in front of for the last few minutes. I didn't say anything either. We both reserved our right to remain silent. Once he got tired of waiting, he gave me a sad look before he began to get up. I grabbed his arm once he started walking towards the stairs.
"I don't even know what I'm chasing anymore. It's not easy," I said softly. My voice shook as tears threatened like a cracked dam. "I'm trying...I really am."
I'm not special just because I want to stay clean- most addicts do. But fighting an addiction is like trying to tread water with a cinderblock tied to my leg. Once I think I'm safe and above water, I lose the will to fight and start sinking to the bottom. After struggling to get back to the surface, the cinderblock pulls me down again as I figure I mind as well get high as fuck as pretend like nothing is bothering me.
"Promise me you'll call if you ever need to talk," Dan said as I led him back inside, "I don't care what time of the day it is, I'll be here. But, for now, I think we should all go back and sleep it off."
"I can't sleep," Chris whined after forty-five minutes of tossing and turning in his bed. There was still an afterglow of the party, but mostly everything was out of my system. "Entertain me." After asking him what he wanted to do, to no avail, I started naming off things around the house that we could do. He shot down every single one of them. "This place has a wine cellar, right?" I warily nodded my head. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" I immediately hopped off the bed to put my socks on.
The cellar wasn't very large, to be quite honest. I mean, I'd be happy with a wine cellar inside my house no matter the size, so who am I to complain? The room was in the basement, as cellar implies, and the walls were covered in stone. In the corner was a kitchenette. Rows and rows of bottles of wine lined the walls. I grabbed the first red wine I saw and popped it open. Chris went to grab glasses but I was already drinking straight from the bottle. First a pinot noir, then merlot, then cabernet. We did this until we had at least one sip of every type of wine in the cellar.
"Can I do something crazy?" he whispered to me, his face only centimeters away. His teeth were stained red from the wine. I nodded my head. In one swift movement, his lips were against mine. He kissed me and I kissed back. It was sloppy, slobbery, and tasted like wine. But it was still the best kiss I've had in years. For the first time in a long while, Adrian wasn't a priority. I didn't care about him. All that matters is Chris's lips against mine. Everything feels good. A few seconds later, I pulled away and took another drink out my bottle. Without another word, I grabbed his hand and pulled him back to our room.
The door barely had time to close before we continued our game. A few seconds of kissing, remove a piece of clothing...a few seconds of kissing, remove a piece of clothing... We did this until we were both nearly stripped and on the bed. He asked me if I was sure I wanted to. I didn't say anything. Instead, I asked him to stop. He grabbed the sheet and wrapped it around me. He didn't say anything either; just sat there and held me until I could calm down.
"I'm sorry," I choked out. "I've had a lot of bad things happen to me… bad things involving sex."
"We don't have to do anything. Do you want to talk about it?" he managed to stumble out while squeezing me a little bit. I can tell he's never been put in a situation like this.
"Kind of," I sighed. "It's a hard thing to talk about. It's happened more than once, I can tell you that. A lot of Native women have been through the same thing, but none of us talk about it."
"I'm glad you're telling me this," he whispered. "I mean, that you trust me enough to tell me".
Maybe it's because I'm kind of drunk and kind of high. Maybe it's because I've been longing for someone to talk to for as long as I can remember. Maybe it's because I really, really like him.