Ecstasy

9

Zara

What the fuck just happened?

Does he really know?

Did he really see me that night?

What else does he know about me?

It’s not like I keep many secrets. My bullshit is out in the open, for everyone to see.

Absentmindedly, I trail my finger along my bare hip, my clothes still in a heap on the kitchen floor. I glance down, see the pale white scars.

Alex has never even noticed them.

Maybe he thought they were stretch marks and wanted to be polite.

I laugh out loud in the quiet of my apartment at the idea. Alex is a lot of things, but he is not polite.

Fuck.

I wonder if Eli will tell him he came by. He said he had wrestling practice now, but the way he just walked out like that, not giving a shit that I didn’t tell him what I was doing tonight… He doesn’t care. He just wanted to fuck me. I think he just wanted to because he didn’t get to finish over the weekend.

I’ve been watching you the past six months.

Or maybe he’s just crazy.

He probably won’t tell Alex, I assure myself. Besides, I stopped it. I stopped it, and nothing really happened. He won’t tell Alex, and me and Alex will be fine. Things are looking up anyway, even if he needs “space”. Lunch yesterday wasn’t all bad. Besides, we’ve weathered storms just like this before.

Okay. Maybe not just like this. He’s never seen me on my knees sucking another guy’s dick like he did last week but it wasn’t exactly a secret that I’m not the faithful type. I told him when we first hooked up that I’d cheated on all my exes.

Although I hadn’t with him. Up until that bullshit with Riha

I glance down at the bottle of tequila on the floor.

Might as well enjoy the weekend.

I take a few more shots.

Throw back an Adderall.

And then I pull out my phone.

Since I deleted all of my social media accounts, all I’ve got are messages from my mother, reminding me, again, of her bullshit engagement party next weekend, to which I don’t respond, a message from one of my friends back at ECU asking me if I want to drive down for a party tomorrow night, which I can’t because I don’t have a fucking car, and one from Alex. My fingers are shaky until I open the message. What if Eli told him already?

But all it says is: What are you doing?

I exhale a sigh of relief, but then glare at the words on the screen.

I fucking hate “What are you doing” texts and he knows it. If he wants to fuck me, he should just say it.

I chew my nail—a disgusting habit but probably my least bad one—and close my eyes a second. Should I tell him Eli came over?

Should I tell Eli not to ever do that again?

But what if I want him to do it again?

And what if Alex asks me to come over and Eli gets home and it’s all weird and shit?

But maybe Alex doesn’t even want to hang out. Maybe he’s still feeling bad about the video of my tits, or maybe he’s creeped out at the idea of spending Friday night alone in his house after Riha

I don’t know.

Maybe he’s having another party.

I’m always down for free drinks—and more importantly, drugs—but I’ve got a guilty conscience and if I get wasted with him, what if I tell him what happened with Eli and then he gets mad that I didn’t tell him before?

Fuck.

But then again, I don’t relish the idea of spending my next few weekends alone. It’s why I like Alex so much. He’s always doing something. And he always wants to bring me along. He’s fun.

Not shit. You? I reply.

The tequila is really getting to my head now and I bypass the tiny kitchen table that serves as a divider between our kitchen and living room and sink down into the couch Mom’s boss gave us after she moved from one mansion to the next. Real estate is apparently a good business in North Carolina right now.

I kick my feet up on the arm of the couch and hold my phone over my face, staring at my screen, waiting for Alex to reply.

A small voice in the back of my head asks me what the fuck I’m doing. Alex and Eli are best friends.

This could end very badly.

I should just tell Alex now. It wasn’t my fault anyway. I stopped it.

I should tell him.

But I’m not going to.

I’m fucking stupid.

I rub my thumb over my i

I think about how easy it would be.

No. I won’t do that. It’s been a few weeks since the last time. The one Eli hinted at. My body feels flushed when I think about him watching me then.

So, I don’t.

I push it from my mind. It’s a habit from when I was a teenager. It doesn’t really affect me now.

Nope.

I’m fine.

While I wait for Alex’s reply, I thumb through my contacts, and my dealer’s name, Jax, scrolls past the screen. I scroll back up, debate a second, and then shoot off a quick text to Jax in the event Alex doesn’t actually want to see me.

I can’t be alone.

Not tonight.

Jax takes no time to reply: Come over at 7. I’ve got some good shit.

He always has good shit, but I just send a smiley face back and throw down my phone. Fuck Alex. I don’t want to get involved in that shit anyway. Not tonight. I need some space too, fucker.

Now I’ve got to take a shower and get some damn clothes on before I head over to Jax’s to get all the way fucked up.