Malum

Tillie

We’re all in the pool house later that night, most of us blinded from top-shelf alcohol.

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” I slur, standing on the middle of the coffee table. Nate and Brantley are behind me stretched out on the sofa and Bishop and Madison are in front of me on the lazy boy. Hunter, Jase, and Eli were here but disappeared, probably when they saw how dark we all were feeling. People mourn in different ways, yes, but I also feel like it depends on the ferocity of the hole that person leaves in your life. The bigger the hole, the bigger the mess.

I lift my arm high, tears slide silently down my cheeks. Not an obvious tsunami like earlier.

“Shut up, Tillie,” I hear from behind me, and I don’t have to turn to know who it was.

I ignore Nate and continue dancing to “Deuces” from Chris Brown. The slow song possessing every limb of my body. If only music could seize every thought too, turning them into simple music notes instead of the ghosts that meet me behind my closed eyes. I will never recover from losing her. Not ever. There’s no point in me living the rest of life within boundaries. It’s time to shove those to the side. I just want to feel good. Sweat slides down between my boobs as I continue to dance until I trip and fall, subsequently landing on Brantley’s lap. “Talk that Talk” by Riha

Brantley smirks, his arm tightening around my back. He leans in closer, his lips touching my ear. “Careful, princessa. You’re fair game now.”

My eyes flick to Nate, who is watching us carefully, a grin on his face. He has no shirt on and loose faded blue jeans. His muscles clench with every movement. I know how ripped he is, but that’s not what I’m looking at right now. Right now, I’m lost in a trance that is his stupid fucking eyes.

“Fair game?” I ask, my voice coming out way too soft. I don’t even feel hurt. There’s so much of myself that is in pain right now, that nothing, and I mean nothing, can touch the pile of shit that’s already inside of me. Nate included. Seems he’s almost willing to test that theory though.

The song switches to “Blueberry Yum Yum” by Ludacris, just as Nate blows out a cloud of smoke from inhaling his joint.

“Yeah, B. You’re fair game.” Nate flicks his hand out, gesturing to my body but looking at Brantley. “Have at it. You two have been dripping all over each other from the begi

I watch as Madison takes a line of cocaine and then clears her nostril, gri

I want to.

No I don’t.

Yes, I do.

Wait. “Will it fix me?”

Madison cranks her head. “No. Drugs don’t fix people. They just numb the broken ones.”

I could do with some numbing. I gesture for the rolled up hundred-dollar bill and reach for it. Last time I did this Nate whacked it out of my hand—even though I wasn’t going to try it that time. This time, he’s ignoring me. Not caring. Cold and distant. I don’t blame him.

I lean down and snort the line, the taste of harsh chemicals hitting the back of my throat on the first suction. I clear my nose and lean up, handing it back to Madison. Everything feels semi-better. Like I can handle being alive for a little longer. Maybe this isn’t too bad. I could do this. For now. Turning around to face Brantley, he’s gri

I gulp, my eyes drifting open and closed. When they open, Bishop and Madison are making out on the lazy boy in front of me. Madison stands and slowly removes her shirt, leaving her standing there in nothing but her little white panties and lace bra. She winks at me, her head swinging from left to right. Bishop’s eyes are lazy, heavy and on her.

I lick my lips. “Yes.”

Nate chuckles beside me, and then moves to the center of the room. He goes to the table with the coke on it as Brantley’s hand comes up my i

“I was never there” from The Weeknd starts straying through the room, my head pounding and lost in the moment. When my eyes open again, Nate is standing directly in front of me and my heart thunders in my chest. His fingers wrap around my chin as he tilts my head up to him. Brantley’s fingers are working hard inside of me, his thumb pressing against my clit. My breathing is rough and hard, but my eyes are on Nate.

My eyes drop to his crotch and I bite on my lip. Nate chuckles, then lowers himself to my level. “You like that?” He asks, tilting his head, his eyes going straight to Brantley’s hand that’s under my skirt. Nate’s hand touches my other thigh, his eyes staying on mine.

“Play with her tits. She likes that, but you gotta be rough.”

I know that without the mask of my pain, what’s happening right now would hurt me. It would hurt me to see his disinterest in me and treating me like one of the EK hoes that they always have hanging off them. I can’t find that hurt because the pain of losing the most important person to me is a darkness so bleak that it hides everything else.

I close my legs and wriggle, grabbing the ends of my dress. When Brantley realizes what I’m trying to do, he pulls his fingers out and I removed my dress, now I’m standing there in nothing but my Victoria Secret panties that have the word SECRET stamped over my lower belly.

“Take them off…” Brantley orders, and I spin around to face him, knowing damn well Nate is right behind me, my ass directly in his face. It’s about to get closer, because I hook my thumbs under the bands and wriggle my panties down, making sure to bend over, my eyes staying on Brantley. I rest my hands on either side of him, and open my mouth, my tongue poking out slightly. Brantley grins, his eyebrows lifting in surprise. He presses his finger that is still slick with my wetness inside my mouth and groans. “Damn. She’s fucking bad.”