Page 89 of Dirty Roulette
Charlie rolls her eyes. “I’m not your friend anymore, and I wish you were but I can’t do this begging-me-to-take-you-back shit. If you want Crab, then you go talk to him, but don’t expect me to support it.”
“Brody put something in that drink...”
Charlie hysterically laughs at my words, twirling the ice in the cup. “Okay... sure.” She swallows hard, staring at it.
“No, I’m serious.”
There I did it. I called Brody out, and told the truth. Finally. But I can’t wash myself clean of the lies I stacked up. The house of cards is crumbling at my feet. I’m the boy who cried wolf.
She steps up to me and grabs the cup from my hands, sniffing what’s inside. “You know how gross you can get when you drink this? It makes you sloppy and bitchy.”
“Please believe me!”
“Are you kidding me right now? He used to make this at his house all the time and put extra sugar in it. Get a grip!”
“Fine... go ahead... drink that, I don’t care anymore!”
All emotions disintegrate off Charlie’s face. She gray walls me. Her eyes stray as far away as possible, she straightens out her back. Her left thumb dips into the belt loop of her high-rise booty shorts.
“This is over...” Charlie’s lips pucker, and I know she’s down to punch me in the face and rip out every hair follicle. “I hate it when you get drunk like this. If he really put something in my drink, he wouldn’t have had any.”
“Charlie...”
“Don’t... Your drama is boring. I’m not going to waste my time fighting with someone who purposely lies because they’re soggy and tasteless.” She finishes the drink in her hand and crushes the cup, tossing it in the trash.
“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.” She storms off. I watch her from the lounge as she heads back down the staircase.
Maybe it was just sugar.
I’m too attached to the one person I’ve known since I was five.
I lost all my other friends for starting emotional wars with them over something trivial. Once I unleash another nuclear attack, more people hate me. It’s the mean girl posts. My nasty text messages. It was a matter of time before I pointed the warhead at Charlie’s head.
My cell buzzes in my pocket and the anonymous number pops back up. Another link that I decided to stupidly open and this time it's that website. A knock off Craigslist for airing dirty laundry and the latest post is me. It’s my nudes from that night, and me humping Ryder leg. Then it’s my phone number, it’s my dorm room marked like treasure on a map. The comments are pouring in and within two seconds a random number calls me. I ignore it. Then it buzzes again, and text messages pop up at the top of my screen.
I slump my way to an empty table and fall into one of the cushioned chairs, down the remains of my cup. I’m not sure how many songs I miss, or how many calls I ignore. I pound and chug as much as I can, getting another refill from Sleepy Eyes.
“Have another drink,” I say to myself. I put the cup to my lips, listening to the voices telling me to keep chugging. Sleepy Eyes pours more shots. I’m standing alone, watching people swim by grabbing beer and food. I chain myself to the table and drink until my fingertips are numb.
A girl who vaguely looks like Brittni comes up to my face. The emerald eyes gawking at me with a cruel smile. She bends over with her hands on her knees and blonde hair tumbles down her shoulders.
My eyesight clouds over in a dark haze, and I’m dizzy, crumbling into a chair. My focus is zoning in and out of her, laughing in my face. Flashes of lights hit my pupils.
“Drink up bitch,” she cackles, putting a phone screen up to my face with my naked photos online. Comments pooling it through a live chat room. “I can’t wait until you’re dead.”
She’s gone like a ghost that fades away as my head dips back into the chair. The shit in this world turns dark, becoming black again.
My head jolts up and I watch the staircase, waiting for them. I’m trembling as I pull out my phone, the screen blurry from the chemicals dancing in my eyes. I notice I have a text message from Ryder that I haven’t bothered to read.
His name displays on my phone as it buzzes in my hands. I stare at the green answer key, but I run my finger in the opposite direction and ignore him. Ryder’s name pops back onto my screen, and I reject his phone call again. This time I laugh under my breath, knowing deep down somewhere within that I’m acting like a completely unhinged bitch. I slide it into my pocket and use the armrests to lift myself off the chair. The empty cup tumbles off my lap and to the floor.
I stumble out of the VIP lounge, my brain wanting to shut off. I see everything around me perfectly clear one moment, and the next it goes dark. I fall against the barren walls. It’s like my head weighs a thousand pounds, and I’m fighting against gravity with its fingers wrapped around my neck just to walk straight. The front door is inches away, but my brain is telling me it’s too far. I sway back and forth, my arms chained to the floor like lead.
I turn my head back one more time and watch Brody and all his fake innocence climb the stairs. Charlie leans into his chest. For a moment, she looks happy drunk, but then her head dips back, and her eyes flutter. Her feet still move, but they’re like jelly, sliding against the floor.
My mouth waters. Sweat falls down my cheeks. My breath is in my eardrums. Every inch of my skin burns as I watch Brody swing a bathroom door open.
The light flickers on. His tongue runs up her neck, to her mouth. His hands yank onto her shorts, ripping the button off. At that millisecond the music stops, and the crowd scrambles around me. I spot Charlie in the cracks of moving bodies. She flails her arms, pushing and shoving him in the chest, but my vision turns dark. Like a broken television, it’s all white noise, and I can’t see anything. I move my head around, and the bathroom door shuts.
