I took a drag of my cigarette as they all watched, clearly with judgement. They mourned themselves, they had gotten to say goodbye. Me? I hadn't even left my room. I skipped her funeral, I skipped everything. I never did anything related to Kylie, or anything at all for that matter. I buried myself away in my room, higher than a kite, and drunker than a skunk. I was in no condition to go anywhere, and that was exactly how I wanted it.
"You saying I should get help?" I asked, the biting sarcasm in voice as strong as the alcohol embedded in my breath. "I don't need it, some good bud goes a long way."
"You're just going to run away?" Maggie answered with another question, throwing her arms up. "From her, from everyone?"
"Better than trying to confront something I'll never get over, don't you think?" I cocked my head as the finished cigarette had fallen from my fingers, grinning ever so slightly. "By the way, Maggie. Don't be afraid to hit me up if you're looking for some fun. It'd be nice to catch up."
Lifting my board, I spun and plodded up the hill. What was the point in staying if I had no reason to be there? If I wanted to be depressed and with a bunch of other people, I would've went to her funeral - but I hadn't gone. I didn't want to see the faces of judgment, of pity. I didn't want people telling me that they were sorry for something they never had any control over. The people I wanted an apology from were never going to give it to me. Ever.
Her father, that day at the hospital. He never said anything about Kylie, and had tried to go on about moving on or some other pseudo-motivational bullshit. The one word that didn't come out of his mouth was sorry, nothing close had even come out of him. The other had been Kylie, but obviously that hadn't been about to happen - not anytime soon, at least. Not until I joined her six feet deep.
Just as I reached the top of the hill, I felt a tug on the back of my shirt. The tugging was clearly from a girl, as it wasn't very strong, nor was able to hear any breathing. Of the girls who had been there, Maggie was the only one who would've been willing to chase me. It was just simple deduction. She was clearly the one who had thought of doing this, and she also wanted to be the one to finish it.
"Are you just going to leave it like this?" Maggie asked, circling me.
"Probably. I'd be a liar if I said anything else." I muttered, taking a step closer. "You really wanna help me out?"
"Maybe." Maggie responded with one mysterious word. "It depends on what you want help with."
Taking a step closer, I rested my hand on the back of her head and guided her face closer to mine. Her mouth affixed with mine, lip to lip - tongue to tongue. I invaded her, yet it all remained emotionless. I felt nothing, and the kiss only served to confirm that I was emotionless, that I was truly messed up in a number of ways. What would've made me feel something, anything at all? Women, money, drugs?
Or was I just been a lost cause with nothing left to grasp onto?
"You said you know some scary people, yeah?" I whispered. "How about we get some dust and have a little fun, then?"]
"Are..." Maggie trailed off, uncertainty tailing her shock. "Will that help?"
Within a sudden moment of revealed vulnerability, I could feel a grin spread across my face, as though I had been the Cheshire cat. "Definitely."
**
After a short bus ride into Torinos territory, Maggie had taken me to one of her supposed friends places, where I ended up buying a few milligrams of what he told me was the best dust they sold. Even if I had been known to hang with the Ill Ninos, they hadn't been ones to turn away customers. The better question was whether I would've made it out of the territory alive, not that I cared all that much. A bullet to the head would have been welcomed.
Following what was a somewhat longer bus trip, we ended up back at my house. I pulled Maggie through the front door, slowing down to glare at my mother - who hadn't been looking at me, but at Maggie - though I wasn't quite sure if she recognized her at all. Finally, Maggie and I had reached my room, where I pulled out the bag that the Torino dealer sold us.
Dumping the laced bud onto my dresser, I took some and tossed it into the grinder and had continued to do just that, grind it down. Maggie's eyes navigated around the filthy floor as she made her way to my bed. The covers were a complete mess, just like my head. Again, not like I cared all that much. I didn't force her to come, nor had I made her come inside my room. It was all her choice, and she could've left at any moment.
"Why did you ask me to come over and do this with you?" Maggie asked. "You could have asked anyone."
"Dunno." I muttered, turning my head as I rolled the joint. "I was wondering what you were like in bed. You look like you got some moves."
Maggie took the joint and set it down on the dresser, next to the leftover bud. Her hands then met my waist, where her fingers slithered their way into my jeans. "If you just want to fuck, then leave that shit alone. If it helps, I'll do it whenever."
"That so?" I stroked my fingers through her hair. "Eh...I'm feeling like getting fucked up, and then fucked. If it's not you, then whatever. I'll find someone else."
Picking up the joint, I held the joint a bit away from me as I heard the stuff tended to flare up. Looking at Maggie through my hair, I brought the joint to my lips and took a nice, deep inhalation of the dust-bud. Had Maggie been pretending to care about me? Had this been her way of getting free drugs or something? If that was the case, she had to have known there would've been a catch. Nothing was ever too good to be true, ever.
Holding the joint out as I exhaled into the air, Maggie apprehensively took it from me. After she freed up my hand, I brought my fingers to the shoulder of her tank top. As my finger slipped under it, I pulled it along and then down the smooth skin of her shoulder. As Maggie exhaled, the smoke blew right past, almost as if it was been a warning to slow down from her.
"Why are you so willing to do all of this?" I muttered before ushering the joint back to my mouth.
"Do you care?" she shook her head, holding what appeared to be a grimace on her face. "Do you really want to know why I'm doing this?"
Honestly, I kind of wanted to hear. Why was she so willing to fuck some punk, druggie teenager who dated her sister? What made her so willing to do what had been the equivalent of PCP? This was so far from what Maggie had originally done and been. She used to smile, and throw out sarcastic jabs, not fuck drugged up punks and be serious about everything. Had it been possible that she had become just as fucked up as I was?
"Kinda."
"I'm doing it out of spite." she took the joint back. "My dad fucked up our family, because of you. You never did anything wrong to her, or hurt her, but he still drove everyone apart because he couldn't have his way. He ruined you and me , we both lost the only person that ever showed the slightest bit of care about us."
"Yeah?" I watched as Maggie took a second and third hit of the joint, which was quite a bit for a first timer. I took the joint, and took a final hit myself before setting it into the ashtray. "Well, then. Fucking everything, right? Fuck all of these people. Fuck the world."
As my own body met Maggie's, my hands had shot towards and up her waist, yanking her thin tank top up with them. Resting her down onto the bed, she arched her back, unclasping her bra. I pushed up her skirt, and let my hands glide up her silky legs to find the band of her underwear. My fingers curled around them like a boa to it's prey, and ripped them off like a conman to an elderly couple.
.
.
.
"...Jesus." Maggie sighed, pressing her hand against the wall. "It's starting to hit."
She was right, and it was hitting hard. Really. Fucking. Hard. As I lied on top of her, it was like we were physically spinning inside of a hamster wheel. Then it would suddenly stop and leave us hanging diagonally. While I knew that it was just been the drug, it was damn near the trippiest shit I had ever experienced. I could only wonder how Maggie was dealing with it?
All I was able to see in the darkness was Maggie's white teeth reflecting the light the lamp gave us. Maggie pulled me further down by my hair, her lips sitting softly against the space in between my cheek and ear. Every breath had sounded like a breezy afternoon in my ear, yet had smelt like fresh weed in the morning. It had only been seconds, but as she had clenched the skin of my back, she had said three near silent words to me.
"I...you."
Had I heard her correctly, or had I misheard it? Was it the drugs in me, or the drugs in her? Maggie flipped us over, sending me on my back as she sat on top of me. Looking down at me, she smiled as her blue eyes glowed through the night's darkness. As her chest pressed against mine, her nails had brushed the hair that had seemingly been stuck to my eyes away. Leaving them exposed to her, for her.
Even if it was only for a moment, I had seen clarity. Kylie wasn't a thought in my mind. My mind had only seen what was in front of me, what I was able to see - not remember. I wasn't held captive with the love of someone who no longer existed on this planet. I wasn't consumed by the darkness that she had left me alone with. For that fragile, fleeting moment, the black sea had been split.
"Fuck." Maggie came to a slow, smiling. "You're actually pretty good."
"Likewise." I muttered as the world began to turn once more.
"...Likewise."
ns 15.158.61.20da2
