Ecstasy

Zara

A little breathless, my black strappy heels dangling from my fingers, I finally make it the three miles to Jax’s house a few minutes past seven. He lives in Shadow Lakes, which is a neighborhood known for its wild parties, edging Caven’s campus. This is where I first met Alex.

I push him from my mind. I know he won’t be here. He was only at Jax’s party that night back in March because he was picking up some pot for a friend.

I met Jax through a mutual friend that goes to ECU, and he’s saved my life since that stint in rehab, which incidentally was the same time Mom sold my car. My mother, and other responsible adults might disagree with that assessment, but I’m clearly not a responsible adult.

I slide my shoes back on, run the back of my hand over my brow and take a deep breath.

My heart is pumping at the thought of what Jax has in store for me tonight, and probably from the three-mile walk in the September heat, but I’m stoked I’m here before anyone else. I didn’t take anything save for that tequila and the Addie I did earlier. I don’t want any other drugs to fuck with what Jax has.

I flick my braids over my shoulder and straighten my hot pink crop top.

Now that I’m here, walking up his driveway, I realize it’s actually a little cool outside, a slight breeze making the little hairs on my arms stand on end, wicking against the sweat slick on my skin.

The heels of my shoes click on the pavement as I head up to his white, ranch-style home situated at the end of the cul-de-sac. Perfect for parties.

Jax has a well-tended flower garden which makes me laugh a little, but over the summer, I learned it’s one of his hobbies. Go fucking figure.

I reach out to ring the doorbell but he’s already pulling open the door, a big smile on his face and a beer in his hand. I smell tobacco and weed as he opens the screen door for me and I step inside, hugging him back as he throws one arm around me.

He shuts the door behind me, and I glance around his tidy living room; grey carpets and a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall across from black leather couches. I spin around and find him looking me up and down, nodding his approval.

“Like the leather,” he says, pointing at my mini skirt. Yeah, that was a bitch to walk in. He seems to realize that’s exactly what I just did because he narrows his blue eyes and says, “Wait. Did you fucking walk here?”

I nod once, throwing up my hands. “Yep. Sure did.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve picked you up.”

I glance at the beer in his hand, see his red-rimmed eyes. But I don’t call him out on it. Driving a little drunk and a little high is probably nothing to Jax. I don’t point out that he should know I don’t have a car. I just shrug. “I don’t know,” I tell him honestly. I kind of like to walk. Back in high school, I’d go for runs at the park in Monkey Junction—where I grew up, and where Mom still lives, the next town over—all the time. Before my little problem started.

“Well, you look good,” he tells me, nodding.

I laugh, shaking my head. “Good. Let’s hope whoever I end up fucking tonight thinks so, too.”

He scratches his neck, takes a pull from his beer as he saunters into the kitchen. “Oh, come on, Za,” he says, his voice lazy as always as he opens the fridge and peers inside. “Don’t be fucking around too much. Not good for your soul. Besides, Alex is probably still drooling over your ass.”

He knows we broke up, because aside from Kylie, he’s the only real friend I have. And unlike Kylie, he doesn’t really give a damn I cheated on Alex.

He thinks Alex is a dick anyway. Which he is.

I don’t say any of that though. I don’t really want to talk about Alex, especially with whatever the hell it was that happened with Eli.

Instead, I just laugh out loud, flop down on the black leather couch and cross my legs at the ankle as I slouch down, fingers drumming against my bare skin beneath my crop top.

“Who you inviting?” I ask, changing the subject.

Jax pulls a baggie out of the fridge and I perk up but make myself stay seated.

His mention of Alex aside, I’m just relieved he hasn’t asked about the dead girl. Every time I close my eyes, I can see the eerie way her brown hair was just floating in tendrils around her head in the water.

I don’t want to think about it. Talk about it. Or, remember it. I didn’t really know her, and what I did know, I didn’t like, but seeing a corpse is kind of unsettling.

“You know. Just some people from around. None of those bullshit Caven athletes, don’t you worry. People I work with.” I almost laugh out loud at that. He’s a dealer, and that’s it. But looking around his house, it looks like that’s really all he needs to be. “Who knows who’ll end up showing up?” He sets his beer down on the counter in his kitchen, grabs a spoon from a drawer and comes into the living room, sitting right on the floor in front of his coffee table.

He sets the spoon and the bag which is full of white powder on the table and grabs his phone from the back pocket of his jeans. He scrolls through it a second and then Problem$ by Somber floods some hidden speakers, the bass thudding.

I like this beat.

I sit up, start dancing with my hands up, eyes closed, a smirk on my face, and I hear him laugh.

“Hey,” he says after a minute, and I pause my stupid dance moves, dropping my hands, and look at him as he scoops out half a teaspoon full of whatever is in that bag, “did you know that dead girl?” He sets down the spoon, pulls out his wallet, thumbs free a card.

Damn, it seems I can’t get away from her.

“Riha

He’s cutting the powder into a thin line with his card, but he pauses at my words, looks up, his blue eyes on mine. “No shit?”

I scoot to the edge of the couch, knees together, elbows propped up on them. “No shit,” I confirm. “I found her.”

His eyes widen a fraction. He’s always pretty high, so I don’t think he can actually open his eyes any more than that. “You all right?” he asks, blinking, then turning back to his lines.

I eye them, my mouth going dry and excitement making my heart flutter, but I keep myself contained. I don’t even know what it is yet. Not fine enough to be coke, not really grainy enough for ketamine.

“Yeah, I’m good,” I tell him honestly. I actually wish I felt a little more at her death, but I didn’t fucking like her and I didn’t really fucking know her.

Jax doesn’t judge though. He just nods once and says, “Let it be a lesson, Za. Don’t get fucked up around pools.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “Shut up.”

The corners of his mouth pull up in a smile and when his lines are nice and straight, he picks his head up and looks toward me, putting the card back into his wallet. “You ready?”

I rub my hands together, lower myself onto the floor and cross one leg over the other so I’m not all spread out in front of Jax. I’m pretty sure he’s not at all interested in me. He’s never made a move and I know he sees some chick that he’s always off and on again with. Either way, he seems to see me as strictly a friend and the feeling is mutual. It’s good to be friends with your dealer. They won’t sell you shit laced with fentanyl or jack up the prices for no damn reason.