There are people crammed into a small living room and the furniture has been pushed out of the way. The kitchen to my right is lined with empty beer bottles and there’s a large bucket filled with ice and drinks on the table. The loudness and chaos kind of reminds me of being at Ella’s, where everyone could just roam free and do whatever they wanted. The first time I witnessed it I thought it was insane, but now it kind of feels like maybe this is the kind of place I belonged the whole time.
“Do you want a drink?” the guy shouts over the music as he holds on to my arm.
I nod, relaxing. He doesn’t seem that bad. “Yes, please!”
Then he smiles and it’s a dark smile, one masked with an alternate meaning. I’ve seen this smile before right before he tied me to the bed. I’m not sure what the alternate meaning is but I can’t seem to concentrate on it for long enough to care. He releases my arm and I brace my hand against the wall nearby so I don’t fall down. I want to dance, because I love to dance. But I’m dizzy and vomit burns at the back of my throat. I try to recall how many pills I’d taken. Two… No, I took more, didn’t I? After the landlord knocked on my door? Yes, but how many did I take. Four… five… eight. God, I’ve completely lost track and things are starting to get dark and chilly, not just around me but in my head. The song switches and I try to focus on the beat. The guy who brought me here returns. He hands me a beer. I drink it. Somehow I end up dancing with him. He’s grabbing me roughly, forcing me against his body as he grinds against my hips. I’m not sure if I’m into it, so I try to back away.
“Where you goin’?” he wonders, pulling me back.
“I want to…” What do I want?
He shakes his head and probes his fingernails into my arms. I feel the skin puncture and the pain spans throughout my entire body. I try to shout, but the sound is lost in the music. He grins, all desire and need, just like every other guy who exists on the planet.
“Come here, baby.” He presses me against his chest, his hand sliding underneath my back, and I find myself wishing he were Ethan so I wouldn’t feel so unsafe. He grabs at my butt, touches me, and just like that a switch flips off inside my head. Like always, I become numb, every emotion draining out of me. Suddenly, it feels like I’m watching the guy as he gropes my ass, feels my breast, kisses my neck, presses our bodies together. I can’t feel a single thing, don’t want to. I don’t deserve to. I’m worthless. A whore, like everyone always tells me.
He starts to lead me through the crowd, to the hallway, and I’m pretty sure he’s going to take me to a room and do whatever he wants to me, when my eyes roll into the back of my head and my legs start to give out as my stomach burns.
“I think I’m going to throw up,” I say and groan and the guy scoots back faster than the beat of the song with his hands out in front of him like he’s afraid to touch me.
I take off, shoving through the crowd, and run out the front door, leaving it open as I stumble outside, then hurry down the stairs. One of my shoes gets caught in the bottom step and I can’t get it out, so instead I wiggle my foot out of my shoe. Then I hunch over and fall to my knees in a bed of tulips and bushes. My shoulders jerk as I dry heave, feeling like I need to throw up, but nothing will come out of my mouth. My heart is beating rapidly, slamming against my ribs, and my skin is coated in sweat. I’m having a hard time keeping my eyes open and I fall back into the bushes, landing in the moist dirt on my back. I see the stars. They’re gorgeous. I wish I could touch them. It feels like I can.
I lie there forever, feeling my heart beat faster as my stomach vines into painful knots. Then my butt starts ringing, or maybe it’s my head… no, it’s my phone. Yes, definitely my phone. Rolling to my side, I feel the back pocket in my dress and retrieve my phone. I let my thumb fall on the talk button and then put the phone to my ear.
“Hello.” The sound of my voice hurts my head.
“Seriously?” Ethan says, sounding more pissed off than he usually does. “Again?”
“Huh…” I clutch my pulsating head.
“What do you mean, huh?” he snaps. “I can tell you’re drunk again, which means you probably need me to come pick you up from some guy’s house.” He sounds venomously jealous, and in the pit of my stomach, I like it.
“No, not drunk,” I mutter. “I’m out of it.”
“I can tell.”
“I think… I think… I took too much… this time.” It’s becoming harder to breathe, my chest constricting and it’s bearing weight down on my body.
“Too much what?” he asks and I think I hear concern in his voice. Maybe, but I could be wrong.
“The stuff…” I try to snap my fingers, attempting to think of the word, but I can’t tell if I still have fingers. “Those pills I have.”
“What pills?” His voice sounds all high and abnormally off pitch.
“Nothing… never mind… I’m really tired… I’m going to go…” I start to let my arm fall to my side.
“Lila, don’t hang up!” he shouts through the phone and I can hear a lot of banging in the background. “Where are you? At your place?”
“No… I’m in some bushes… and tulips.” I swat my arm at this blurry spot forming above me. “Ethan, it’s really cold.”
“It’s not that cold.” His voice is harsh and makes me feel even colder inside. “Now just tell me where you are and keep your God damn eyes open.”
“Okay…” I blink fiercely, struggling to get my eyelids to stay open. “But I don’t know where I am.”
“What do you mean?” he asks and I hear the engine of his truck roar. “How the hell can you not know where you are?”
“Well… this guy took me somewhere… and I don’t remember where…”
“Can you recognize anything?”
“Stars… and…” I trail off, letting the sleepiness overtake me. He says something, but I’m too exhausted to answer.
“Lila!” he yells.
My eyes snap open. “Yeah…”
“Tell me what’s around you.”
“Bushes… and stars… and a building…”
“What does the building look like?”
“Like every other building out there…” My head flops to the side. “There’s this really weird flashing pink bird thingy at the entrance… That could be in my head though.”
“Thank f**king God.” He sounds a little relieved. “I know where you are.” He says a bunch of other stuff, but I can’t tell what he’s saying, so I just drop the phone because it’s too heavy anyway. Then I gaze up at the stars and let myself fall into the darkness and numbness that I’ve become so familiar with. In fact, it’s really starting to feel like home.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says, sliding his hand up my thigh. “Your skin’s so soft, too.”
I force a smile, even though the way he’s touching me feels wrong. Everything about the situation feels wrong, but at the same time it feels right, because the way Sean’s looking at me right now makes me feel worshipped and loved. “Thank you,” I say, which makes him grin this adorable grin that makes him look younger than he is.
“You’re welcome,” he says and leans forward, giving me a soft peck on the nose. “You’re amazing,” he whispers against my skin, peppering kisses down to my jawline as his fingers drift up my plaid skirt. “I want to touch you everywhere… kiss you all over.”
I place my hand on his chest, holding him back just a little so that I can look him in the eyes. “Why don’t you ever touch me in public? Is it because you were lying about not being married?” I eye the ring on his finger.
His eyes turn cold, his mouth setting in a firm line as he leans away, leaving his hand on my upper thigh, but his fingers stiffen. “No, I told you I’m not married. It was a gift and you know why we can’t be seen in public. Age matters to people, Lila.”
I run my fingers through his soft hair, worried I’ve pushed him too far. “You’re not that much older than me and it doesn’t matter to me anyway.”
He stares at me like I’m incompetent. “Lila, don’t be stupid. They would rip us apart. Everyone would.” He starts to reach for the door handle of his car. “Maybe I should go.”
“No, don’t.” I grab a handful of his suit jacket and pull him back to me, terrified that he’s going to leave me. “I-I’m sorry I brought it up. Please, just go back to what you were doing.”
He narrows his eyes, looking like he’s deliberating whether he should stay or go, whether he’s too good for me or not. He is. I know that.
“You want me to do back to what I was doing?” he asks, cocking his head to the side as he assesses me. There’s something in his eyes that is both thrilling and terrifying and makes my skin tingle in a way that it never has.
I nod, but with a lack of confidence. “Yes.”
He places his hand back on my thigh. He slowly starts to travel upward to the bottom of my skirt, briefly lingering at the hem before slipping his fingers underneath the fabric. I instinctively tense and he seems pleased by it. “Are you sure, Lila?” He reaches the fabric of my panties. “You really want me to go back to what I was doing?”
I open my mouth to say that I’m not sure and that he’s making me feel dirty, but then he forces his fingers inside me with a rough, almost violent movement. I’m not sure what to do because it hurts and feels wrong yet it also feels good.
He starts to move his fingers inside me, almost forcefully. I think about telling him to stop, but the wonderful and horrifying feelings of bliss and need silence my lips. Then he moves his free hand around to the back of my head and grabs violently at my hair.
“Ow, that hurts,” I mutter through a moan with my neck being forced to arch back.
“Good,” he says, his eyes darkening with pleasure. He pulls even harder on my hair and pain and pleasure flood my body.
My feeling become hard to decipher as I reach forward and clutch on to his arms as my body heats up and I can’t breathe. When he pulls his finger out of me, I’m not sure whether I enjoyed it, regretted it, or both. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel.
Ethan
At first I think she’s at some guy’s house and even though I don’t want to go to that jealous place inside me, I do. It pisses me off because only a week ago, I was touching her and all was great until she zoned out and it seemed like she didn’t want to do anything with me.
But then I notice the dazed sound of her voice and none of that matters. I’ve heard the distance and dazed sound in London’s voice many times and in my own, too, when I used to get smashed. An alarm goes off in my head and all I can seem to think about is walking away from London the last time, right after the needle entered her arm. Then Lila starts talking about pills and I remember the prescription bottle in the couch cushion. That’s when I really start to freak out. I’m trying not to panic as I try figure out where she is, but she seems to have no idea. Then she mentions the pink bird and a small amount of relief washes over me. I drive by that damn pink bird twice a day to and from work. It’s not too far from my house, only a few minutes away. I keep talking to her to make sure she stays awake, debating whether I should call an ambulance or something.