Page 63 of Fake Rocks
“Do you want to take this upstairs?” he murmured.
I didn’t argue with him and he led me into the hallway, through the partygoers. As we reached the stairs, I stumbled and bumped into someone.
“Saff? What the fuck are you doing?” Darren’s face appeared in front of me and I tried to focus on him.
“What everyone expects me to do,” I slurred back at him. “Get off my face, then go fuck some random bloke.”
He grabbed my arm and glared at Carl. “You don’t have to do this.”
Angrily, I shook him off. “Piss off, Darren. You’re acting like Jonas.”
“Sorry, mate, I don’t think she’s interested.” Carl shepherded me up the stairs and into one of the vacant bedrooms.
I fell back onto the bed, my gaze following the patterns that swirled on the ceiling.
“You always get hassled by him?” Carl was rolling another joint and I waited impatiently for him to finish. I wanted to get obliterated, I didn’t want to feel pain, or anything.
“Only recently.” I propped myself up on my elbows, watching him.
He made a face and held out the joint. “You don’t need a babysitter.”
Eagerly, I reached for it, but he held it just out of my reach. “You want this? Or you want something more?”
Carl was so close, I could smell the beer on his breath. Right then, I wanted him to kiss me, strip me naked and fuck me into oblivion. I wanted to forget everything that had happened. I wanted to erase Tris from my brain, to start over without thinking about him every second. When he drew back, I was disappointed.
“You’re up for anything, aren’t you?”
With a smirk, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small packet of something wrapped in tinfoil.
As he opened it up and found his lighter to heat the foil, I knew instantly I was moving to another level. Carl gestured for me to lean over and inhale the smoke, his hand stroking the back of my neck as I did so.
The relaxed feeling I’d been harbouring for most of the night intensified and I felt my face stretch into a smile.
Oh my god, this feels so good…
34
Tris
It had been a long week.
After Aunt Annie and I had chatted, I spent the following day looking for jobs. A couple of interviews later, I was part of the team in a DIY and building suppliers store. From eight in the morning until six at night, I helped people find the power tools, kitchen flooring, paint, wood and all the things they needed for their home improvements.
Learning the ropes and having to be polite to customers took a lot of effort, and I didn’t think about Saff every single moment of every single day. I went home each night, ate dinner with my aunt and uncle, then binge watched TV shows online.
It was a simple existence.
So far, I’d rebuffed any invites to the pub from my new workmates. I wasn’t ready to be quizzed about my relationship—such as it had been—with Saff. I knew they read the papers and the gossip pages. However, since the story with her and Troy Carson had broken, there had been no sign of her anywhere. I wondered how much of it had to do with Jonas. He seemed to have a controlling interest in her life.
That night, I was debating which of my series to watch more of when my phone rang. It was late, after one in the morning. Who would be calling me this late?
I glanced at the screen.
Darren. What on earth could he want?
Since the gig, we’d met up a couple of times for a beer and although I hadn’t managed to tell him the exact reasons as to why Saff and I broke up, he’d been sympathetic enough. I’d been glad of his support, even if there was nothing he could do about the situation.
“Darren? Are you okay?”
