What I learned on the Monday following my first night in the ravine was that even the ugliest, skankiest, least dignified girl in school wasn't willing to associate with me on school property. I guess I was naïve for thinking my incident with Amy meant anything, but I couldn't help getting excited about even the slightest attention from a girl.

In the weeks that followed, Amy ignored me completely when we were at school, unless it was to call me a dork or crack a crude joke. But on Friday nights, it was different. I was her go-to guy, probably because I was the most pathetic. Other guys were tired of Amy's drunk desperation; turned off by her reputation and the nauseating amount of tally marks on the wall of dicks that had been in her mouth.

But I didn't have the luxury to turn her down. I was in no position to be choosy, and Amy's slutty lips around my penis was a sexual thrill I was willing to sink low for. She was friendly with me, made out with me, jerked me off once or twice. I could count on Amy—so long as I provided her with booze or money for drugs. So long as she was fucked up, or had the prospect of getting fucked up.

I tried not to admit to myself what the dynamics of our relationship implied. She was never my girlfriend, or even a friend with benefits. She was my whore, bought and paid for. I'm not proud. But I was desperate back then, in every sense of the word.

Watching Emma each Friday made me that much more eager to embrace the kind of life the ravine had to offer. And naturally, I was always watching Emma. She would keep up with the boys, drink for drink, and then I felt obligated to keep up with her, drink for drink. I was willing to follow Emma all the way down.

Emma was like a queen in that place. She was beautiful and pure, not like the other girls. She was fresh. She hadn't been ruined yet. Everyone wanted her. They would wait for her to get drunk enough and hope that maybe they'd have a chance. If it weren't for Spinner, god knows whose drunken arms she would have stumbled into. But Spinner kept her close. Everyone was quick to learn that Emma was Spinner's girl.

I was jealous of Spinner. I was jealous of Emma. Their laughter and their roaming hands, the cloud of envy and admiration that followed them everywhere. They were demigods of the forbidden land. Everyone in the ravine wanted to be them. I wanted to feel what they felt.

If you can't beat them, join them. If you can't win, lose with style. I smoked the pot, I drank the drinks, I hit on the sleazy girls. I played the game. Wasted. Obliterated. Being fucked up made things funny at a time in my life when nothing was funny. I was part of the party. I was one of them. It was a sense of belonging I'd never felt before. Nobody cared who I was at school. They only cared how hard I partied and how much money I was willing to throw in for pot and beer. They were friends, however artificial, and after everything that had happened recently, I was willing to settle for fake. Fake feel-goods, fake camaraderie, fake Toby. I belonged.

Rick had died trying to feel what I felt.

…

It was six weeks after my first night in the ravine. Getting drunk with people I didn't even care about had become my regular Friday night. Voices were chanting enthusiastically as I held a giant funnel above Amy's little brother's head. I poured a beer into the funnel and watched as it rushed down the tube that connected the funnel to Sticky's mouth. He had nearly finished chugging when Amy walked by and punched him in the stomach. The tube flew out of his mouth, he spat beer in every direction, and the yeasty liquid drench his t-shirt as he bent over, coughing.

"Nailed ya, dork!" Amy cackled.

Sticky scowled as he struggled to regain his breath. "You're a cunt."

"Oh? Kiss your mother with that mouth, Brandon?" She shrugged off her little brother and yanked on my arm. "Come on, Tobes, let's go play with the big kids."

We walked towards the fire. Spinner was smoking a cigarette. Jay and Emma were play-fighting, rolling on the grass with gentle drunken smacks.

"Listen, bitches," Amy announced. "We're going to get high. This should be right up your alley, blondie." She winked and pointed sarcastically at Emma.

Emma's eyes sparkled like Christmas lights. I could see the excitement pursed on her lips. "Is it coke?" she asked. Emma was always asking about coke. Every week, every Friday, she was always trying to slide it into conversation. Sometimes it seemed like she made as many friends as she did in the ravine just because she wanted to be the first one to know if anyone could get her coke. I was kind of thankful that she never managed to get some. I was scared of her intensity.

Amy rolled her eyes. "Right, because I have that kind of money. Look, sister, an upper's an upper. Your giddy ass will like this just as much as anything."

Amy took the drugs out of her pocket, a plastic bag of what looked like chunks of milky crystal. She used a tube of lipstick to pound the rocks into powder against her make-up mirror, as I'd watched her do several times before. Her eyes were diligent and alive, crushing the meth into a fine dust. She rolled a dollar bill into a tube and took a hit. She exhaled when she'd finished snorting. Her face glowed as she rubbed the end of her nose.

"Shit yeah," she said with satisfaction. She looked at the rest of the group. "Anyone else?"

"Ice?" Jay asked with his eyebrows cocked. He rolled his eyes. "I think I'll pass. I'm picking up some shifts at the garage this weekend and I don't feel like being twacked out of my mind, thanks."

Amy shrugged. "Okay then, fag, more for me." She looked at Emma and held out the mirror. "Now I know you're up to it."

Emma paused, but I could tell by the look on her face that her hesitation was only for theatrics. She wanted it. She wanted it without a second thought. I could see the lust for the danger gleaming from her eyes. She took the mirror and the dollar and hit the ice hard. She took a deep, excited breath when she was finished. I wondered what it felt like.

Amy laughed. "Nice job, princess. Now give me some money."

Emma rolled her eyes and handed a few dollars over to Amy. Amy glanced at Spinner. "You?"

Spinner sighed. He didn't look terribly interested, but after staring at Emma's face for a moment, he conceded. After Spinner, everyone's eyes shifted towards me. I was nervous.

"What about you?"

It looked disgusting. It reminded me of the chunky dust that collected in the trays under the chalk boards at school. It conjured up unpleasant memories of cleaning erasers in the third grade.

The idea of putting some mystery dust up my nose made my stomach turn. The fact that Jay Hogart of all people had turned it down seemed, to me, to be a bright red flag. If it's too gross for Jay, it should be seen as unfit for the rest of humanity.

But Emma was staring at me. "You should totally try it, Toby," she said.

How could I say no? If Spinner could do drugs for Emma, then I could do drugs for Emma. There wasn't anything I wouldn't do for Emma. She had to know that by now.

I took the mirror of meth from Amy's hand, and took the step that you can never take back.