The air was crisp, the skies were blue, and I watched as patches of sunlight danced across Emma's face. I could still smell things then. Colors were simple and real. Life didn't feel plastic and muted, crackled and distorted. I miss those things now.

We were walking home together, just Emma and me. One of those special evenings where Manny was at Spirit Squad practice, and I had Emma all to myself.

I knew it was only because of Manny's recent dating history that Emma was sharing this particular piece of news with me instead of with her best friend. She usually kept her girl-secrets hidden from me. On that day, I didn't know whether to be grateful or sorry that I had the fortune to hear about her Friday night plans.

"You're going on a date with Spinner?" I struggled to choke out.

"It's not a date, Toby," Emma responded, clutching her school books and keeping her eyes placed strategically forward. "He just invited me to this party."

"You're going on a date with Spinner?" I was still in disbelief. "The notorious Neanderthal bully Spinner? The one pulled who pulled the feathers prank Spinner?"

Emma's voice never faltered from its steadiness. I couldn't reach her if I tried. "How many Spinners do you think there are at our school?"

I ignored all together the fact that Spinner didn't even go to our school any more. There was only one, and my feelings for him had never been particularly favorable. After the Whack Your Brain incident, I positively loathed him. If it weren't for him, Jimmy might be walking. Rick might still be alive. Emma might resemble the girl she once was.

It made me sick inside. Why, Emma? Why did Emma always go for the machismo scumbags? How could she always pass me over, when I would treat her better than anyone else, and pick the biggest assholes out of the crowd?

"I just don't see how you could actually speak to him, let alone date him."

"It's not a date. Look, if I bring you with me, will you believe me? It's just a party."

I was conflicted, but ultimately my love for Emma was greater than my hate for Spinner. It always came back to Emma. I consented to go, if for no other reason than this was the first time Emma had ever invited me out on a Friday night.

…

I should not have been surprised that the party was at the ravine. It was a dark kind of irony, morbidly poetic. This used to be a place where Emma picked up trash. Now it was a place where trash tried to pick up Emma.

I watched in disgust as she drank beer and laughed at Spinner's jokes, cozy in his lap. He murmured things into her ear that made her smile like I had never made her smile, and it was nauseating.

As we sat around the fire, I could see I wasn't the only one who was jealous. Jay and other skeeves looked on, horny craving in their eyes, while Emma got drunker and snuggled closer to Spinner throughout the night.

When the mirror and cocaine came out, I almost threw up. I was so livid and terrified at that point that I just had to walk away. I couldn't be around it. I just couldn't. I didn't want to know whether or not Emma would join in. I couldn't let my image of her be tainted any more.

As I skulked away, hands in my pockets, a mumbling drunk girl collided with me.

"Hey sexy," she said, as the beer sloshed over the sides of her red cup. She used my shoulder to prop herself up. Her name was Amy, and I only recognized her because Sean had dated her briefly. And because she was an infamous, gi-normous skank. "Can I borrow ten dollars?" She started twisting her fingers through my hair, grinning stupidly, breathing the stale scent of beer into my face.

"Um, why?" I asked, foolishly, when I should have just said no outright. Whatever she needed ten dollars for, why the hell should I care?

"I wanna get some stuff, and I'm short ten dollars." I found myself clawing her off me as she drunkenly wrapped her fingers around my neck. I think she thought she was flirting, but she was so drunk she was more like a rag doll. She opened her mouth and I could feel her soft giggle against my ear. "If you give me ten dollars, I'll make it worth your while."

She put her drunk mouth on mine, and pulled away with a smile. She tried to wink but it looked more like a seizure.

A girl had never promised to make anything worth my while. Just making eye contact with girls was usually never worth my while. I always seemed to be on the losing end.

"Fine, whatever," I mumbled. I reached into my pocket and handed her a crumpled bill.

With a jubilant smile she wrapped her arm around me. She led me through the party, through the winding debauchery of the ravine. She bought drugs with the money I gave her and I watched her do them. I watch her cut the meth and suck it up through her nose. Her nostrils were pink and her eyes were bright.

Amy was high. "Come here, big boy," she said. She smiled at me, laughed at me, and led me into the van. The van. Gallons of sweat began to collect on my forehead as she essentially ripped my pants off. I was shaking, and it was embarrassing, and I think she liked that.

But soon I didn't care how embarrassed I was. I didn't care that Amy was disgusting; that I was horrified by all the drugs; that I was angry at Emma for choosing Spinner over me; that my moral compass was spinning in circles and that I kind of wanted to throw up.

I didn't care, because I had never felt lips against my dick before. This was ten times closer to sex than I'd ever been before. Ten times more aroused than I'd ever been before, watching her face writhe around my crotch, sucking it deeper into her mouth, moaning, teasing the head with her tongue. Suck, suck, lick, tease, suck… no more than two minutes and I got off.

I was panting. I wiped the sweat from my forehead. Amy spat out the cum and wiped the corners of her lips, calm as a breeze. Just another day at the office for her.

I gave her money for drugs, she gave me a blow job, and that was my inauguration into the world of the ravine.