AN: I am so sorry that I fell off with this story. I had a really rough pregnancy but am happy to announce I have a happy, healthy baby boy! I'm on maternity leave so I've been trying to write a couple hours each day. It doesn't always work, but I've at least written enough to give the story a hard stop. This chapter is a bit of filler but it took a while to get the creative juices flowing you to my new readers; you're recent messages pushed me to get these out… I tend to sit and wait for perfection which isn't always the best thing! I really hope you enjoy and I appreciate any and all feedback to keep me inspired.

Tara POV

The rest of the afternoon took an odd turn for a Thursday. It was nice to see Kris excited about someone for a change. The way Devin doted on her made me smile more than a few times that afternoon. He really seemed attuned to her. He was funny, considerate and, as I found out, had quite the hook up for all things psychedelic.

I had tried to stay away from the more elicit substances since the summer, but when Devin's friend Andrew broke out a gallon ziplock bag filled with stacks of molly, I found it impossible to say no. The brightly colored pills emblazoned with hearts and spades made me feel like a kid in an illegal candy store. I thought about saying no. After all, I didn't really know these guys and I knew it was always best to trip with people you know- but the pull was too strong. I told myself it was okay since I was passing up the double stack and opting for a single but I knew, no matter the potency, I was dancing a little too closely with the devil.

It's a strange thing, rolling, especially so for someone like me; able to comprehend yet unable to process emotion. Ecstasy relieved me from the confines of sobriety. In my darkest hours, it had been the only way to actually feel anything, though the aftermath of extensive use could put you in an unrelenting straightjacket of isolation. That was the thing about drug induced endorphins, when perpetuated for too long, they tended to leave a volatile wake behind them – forcing me to chase the feeling further and further from myself.

Regardless of the aftermath, the endorphin fueled high always shot me to the sky. It's hard to explain the vastness; you absorb everything; analyze it in a sweet, untormenting way, so different from sober analysis where you trivialize the shit out of everything. You're connected, a part of something. The people you're with in those moments? You're sharing something insanely intimate with them. You feel like you know everything about them, and they you, even if the trip was your first and only meeting. You're relaxed; like you could close your eyes and drift, but you'll never sleep because even hours after the high is gone, you're still alert; not cocaine alert though – not where you feel yucky and itchy and anxious. It's a strange sense of tranquility that I never much experienced sober. That's probably why I craved it so.

So, I took it. I sat back with Kris and Devin and these people who were about to become insta-friends and I vegged. I melted into the couch and let the high roll through me like a warm wave.

At first, it's just a simple difference; a less defined curve of the wall, a vibration when you flit your eyes from one thing to the next. Then it grows. Colors shine brighter. Objects lose their absoluteness. You can feel the atoms of the world gliding across your skin in pursuit of each other.

I know, I sound like a hippie but it put me in touch with the world in a way I couldn't achieve sober. No wonder they've studied it for use with people with PTSD. I never had any hallucinations from it, well, not the "pink elephant sitting in the trees" kind of hallucination at least. That seemed to be reserved to the harsher tones of acid. With ecstasy, everything became rounded… softer.

Hours passed absently before my phone rang, snapping me out of my trance. I immediately silenced it, not mentally prepared to talk with anyone not sitting directly in front of me. Seconds later, the text notification went off.

Adam: Where you at? I've got good news.

Good news? I wondered wistfully. That had been few and far between lately. I was pretty sure it wasn't anything to do with his mom. The last update from the attorney was that the case had stalled and probably wouldn't even make it into a court room for another nine months.

I had absolutely no idea what he could possibly be talking about so I replied.

Tara: Can't talk right now. What's up?

Adam: Easier to talk in person. Can I come grab you in like 2 hours?

I contemplated whether I'd be sober enough by then but figured it would be okay. At worst, I might still have a body high, at best I'd just be wired.

Tara: Sure. Text me when you're ready and I'll tell you where to meet me.

Adam: Cool. I'll hit you up in a little bit.

Kris leaned her head on my shoulder.

"What's he want?" she asked.

I shrugged. "Not sure. He said he has 'good news'?"

Kris frowned. "Good news? What could that be?"

I shook my head. "No idea. He said it would be better if we talked in person. Said he'd come pick me up in a few hours."

"Pick you up?" Kris asked confused. "How's he gonna do that?"

I hadn't even thought to question what he'd said, but she had a point.

"I don't know. Maybe Jason's giving him a ride? I didn't think to ask."

"Jason?" Kris rolled her eyes. "That's the last person I want to see, especially with Devin here."

It was taking longer than usual to process things. I should've thought of that. "It's okay. I'll make sure they stay outside and I'll just run out when they get here."

Kris twirled a strand of my hair. "You're the best Tara," she informed me dreamily.

I laughed. "You know it. Where'd your boy toy run off to?"

She sat up a little bit and looked around. "I think he was meeting some customers outside. I told him to bring us some water when he comes back."

I hadn't thought about it until she said it but my throat was dry as desert.

"Ugh, why did you have to make me think about it?" I bemoaned.

Kris shifted and handed a red plastic cup. "Here."

I took the cup and sniffed. Beer. Not at all what I wanted. I took a small sip just to quell the dryness but handed it back to her. One thing about X, I never wanted alcohol when I was on it. If I were to psychoanalyze myself, I'd guess it had something to do with the negativity I attached to booze conflicting with the serenity of the high. Whatever the reason, alcohol was absolutely revolting under the softer high I preferred.

I pulled out of my musings and noticed Kris staring at me.

"What?" I asked, not self-consciously but with sincere interest.

"You're hair's getting long," she answered simply, taking a strand and twirling it in her fingers.

I laughed. "Yeah, I guess it is. Probably better that way… the chopped look from last spring was pretty abhorrent."

"It wasn't bad," she assured me, a peaceful sleepiness to her voice. "I kinda liked the rocker look." She paused. "Why don't you ever do anything with it?"

Kris knew I had zero knowledge when it came to hair and makeup. Raw and untouched was my trademark – not necessarily out of choice but more from a complete lack of ability.

"You know I don't know how to do anything with it. Down, half up or messy bun. That's about all I've got in my arsenal."

Kris smiled and sat her cup down. In one fluid movement, she climbed up on the back of the couch so I was sitting between her legs. She deftly twisted my hair in her fingers. I couldn't tell what she was doing but her hands felt like waves gently lapping at my scalp. I closed my eyes and felt myself soak into the couch cushion.

After what felt like an eternity, she twisted my shoulder until I was facing her.

"Perfect," she squealed, obviously pleased with herself.

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, Lord. What have you done to me now?"

"Go see for yourself," she instructed, gently pushing me from the couch toward the bathroom across the hall.

I could feel my feet succinctly hitting the ground, but it felt more like gliding on warm ice. I ran my hand along the bathroom wall until I found a light switch and was met with my distorted reflection.

It is highly recommended NOT to look at yourself in a mirror when you're on any kind of hallucinogenic. I had found that out the hard way a long time ago. Your face can morph into unrecognizable, asymmetric portraits that would haunt your worst nightmares. The circles under your eyes darken. Your blemishes jump out of your face at you. Even your smile can look sickeningly twisted. I had seen more than a few people lose their shit in front of a mirror.

Thankfully, I was well aware of this and focused strictly on the auburn crown Kris had woven around my head. Intricate, tiny braids folded into a circular wreath around my head. Somehow, the red highlights of my hair dripped from the chocolate crown. Kris was good.

She appeared over my shoulder, a sleepy smile holding up squinted eyes. "You like?"

I wrapped my arm around her in a half hug. "I love. You're an artist, you know?"

Suddenly, Devin came up behind us. "I was wondering where you two went. Water?" he asked, holding out two bottles.

I thanked him and downed half the bottle instantly. "Easy there," Devin laughed. "Don't drown!"

I smiled and turned back toward the living room. It took a minute before I realized they hadn't followed. I averted my eyes as I took in their make out session and quickly turned back to the couch. They disappeared down a hall. I sighed. I guess I should've expected that.

I drained the rest of the water and walked toward the kitchen to throw it in the recycling. I found two girls, one sitting cross-legged on the floor, the other lying flat on her belly with a neon green pacifier in her mouth. There were sheets of printer paper strewn everywhere and what must've been a box of a thousand Crayola crayons dumped out on the tile between them. The girl who was sitting seemed to be doodling absently while the other girl was clearly some kind of artist, despite the basic crayon. I was absorbed with her hand movements as she colored and shaded. I guess I stood there for a while because the other girl looked up and asked.

"Wanna draw?"

I laughed. "I'm terrible honestly."

She shrugged and scratched at her knit beanie. "So am I, but it's still fun."

She stared at me another minute. "Are you vibing?" she asked with a smile.

"Is it that obvious?"

"Well, I'd be surprised if there was someone here who wasn't so don't be too offended. I'm Bridget."

I dropped down next to her and reached for a piece of paper. Bridget looked at me and then surveyed the crayons before handing me one. "You look like a purple kind of girl."

I smiled. "My favorite."

She smiled back and then turned back to her drawing. We sat in comfortable silence for a while until the other girl jumped to her feet with a quickness.

"Done!" she announced proudly.

Bridget and I looked up at the dirty blonde holding up her artwork triumphantly.

"It's beautiful," I told her honestly. "You should hang that somewhere."

She laughed maniacally. "On the fridge!" she told more than asked.

"I was thinking more like a gallery but yeah, sure."

She raced to the refrigerator and her mouth formed a pout. "There's no magnets" she told me dejectedly.

The sadness broke my poor drugged out heart. "We can find something," I assured her, though I had never stepped foot in this house before and had no way to know if that was true. It turned out that it didn't even matter. The search for tape turned into an hours long adventure through the house and, by the end of it, we'd forgotten what we'd even been looking for in the first place.

Jaime – the dirty blonde - had the idea to cook some eggs for us and I didn't realize I was even hungry until she placed a paper plate full in front of me. As I cleared the plate, I felt myself returning to a more sober state. In a way, I was kind of sad for it to end. More so when Adam texted me.

Adam: Where are you? I'm coming to get you.

I texted him the address and went looking for Kris. There were a few closed bedroom doors I didn't dare open and assumed she was behind one of them. I headed back toward the living room and found Bridget and Jaime.

"Hey, I'm about to take off. If you see Kris, can you just tell her my boyfriend picked me up?" I asked.

The two girls shared a confused look.

"Kris?" asked Bridget unsurely.

"Um, short, blonde," I paused, realizing they had no clue who I was talking about. "If you see Devin, tell him that Tara took off with her boyfriend."

Jaime smiled. "Yeah, sure. Is he here already?"

"Oh, no. not yet. I'm gonna wait for him outside. I don't think Devin really knows him… I don't want to be the one bringing in any strangers."

Bridget laughed. "Girl, half the people in this house are strangers. But that's cool. You wanna smoke before you leave?"

I shook my head. "No, I'm good. Thanks though. Shit's been… weird… lately with my guy. Probably want to sober up as much as I can first."

Jaime made a sour face. "Well, that's no fun. Sounds like you need to get rid of that one."

She must have sensed my unease because she smiled again. "Just playing. Your man's your man. That's between yall, sweetheart. But come back sometime soon. We're usually here."

I gave my new insta-friends a hug goodbye and headed outside.