Ecstasy

Zara

There are cars parked along the quiet road of the island. And it is an island, we took a whole damn bridge to get here. A secluded little part of Grove Beach full of enormous beach homes built up on white stilts to protect against potential hurricanes.

The smell of the sea through the windows in Alex’s Jeep was enough to get my heart thrumming with anticipation, despite our stony ride of silence for the last half hour.

It’s been a while since I’ve been to the coast. I used to go with Mom a lot when I was a kid, but then things got weird between us and we just stopped going.

That was about the time I started using.

Maybe things didn’t get weird. I got weird.

Alex sits in silence after he pulls through the gravel drive, parking away from the grey and white house at our backs, all the outdoor lights on. It’s a three-story house that looks even bigger on the stilts. I hear the music but can’t quite make out what’s playing, and right under the carport, in the side view mirror, I see Eli’s black 370Z.

I think about that model car on his desk.

The one on his computer screen.

I imagine his hands on me at the pool.

My stomach flips as the memory plays in my head. And he’s in this house. I wonder who he’s with. There are over half a dozen cars here, and more along the road. Could be anyone.

Alex is silent, and he’s made no move to get out. I get the distinct feeling he wishes he was anywhere else.

“Look, if you don’t want to go—” I start to say, but he turns to glare at me in the dim light of the Jeep.

“We’re here, aren’t we?” he asks, his fingers still on the steering wheel.

I look out my window, stare at the trees lining the property. The moon overhead. “Didn’t go well with your parents?”

“My mom wasn’t home.” It’s an agitated growl, that voice, but it’s an admission, too. It’s why he’s so upset.

“Where is she?” I don’t look at him as I ask the question. I just keep staring at the window, which is rolled up now. And I remember looking out of another pane of glass. The one in Alex’s kitchen. Seeing Riha

“Fuck if I know.” He opens his door.

I open mine, too, and we step out of the car, closing the doors behind us.

We meet at the back of the Jeep, and he grabs my hand, pulls me close to him. He’s so hot to the touch, and his jaw is set even as he laces his fingers together behind my back, drawing me to him.

“Let’s have fun tonight, yeah?” he asks me, his words at odds with how he looks, which is mainly pissed off. “Let’s have fun tonight, and in the morning, we can work this out, okay?”

I swallow, averting my eyes for a second. Thinking about Eli.

God, if Alex fucking knew.

I look up, meet his eyes, force myself to nod anyway.

Then I jerk my head toward the trunk. My overnight bag is in there. And even though I told myself I wouldn’t do it, there’s some E in there I’m definitely going to take.

Alex stares at me a long moment, and then he lets go and opens the trunk. I shoulder my bag, and together, we head for the winding wooden deck that leads up to the door of the beach house.