𝟒𝟔

𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞

10:37 pm.

In bed, time passed much slower here than in the rest of the world- at least that's what it felt like, and my phone held up to my face, Skyler's upper half on the screen.

I was talking to Skyler, talking about the movie from last night, and she was happy to hear about my time spent with Joel but less than enthusiastic about the whole ex situation. Can't say I blame her.

If the roles were reversed, I don't know how I'd react, but definitely not as calm as her.

She asked questions, the type of questions that were a shy away from figuring out her social security number.

Maybe she wanted to look her up, see what she looked like, and if that's the case, I hope it brings her relief because Sam ain't got shit on her.

It was kinda nice seeing this side of her- the jealous side. It wasn't the toxic kind where I felt like I had to walk on eggshells, but more like I had someone looking out for me more than I ever did for myself.

"Well, looks like I have a hit list when I visit your hometown then, huh?" Skyler sighed, and it was obviously a joke, but I couldn't help but feel like part of her meant it.

"Oh yeah?" I chuckled, rolling a piece of lint between my pointer and thumb and holding it up to the light illuminated by my bedside lamp, "how would you do it?"

"Hmm-" She hums, and I hear a laugh from somewhere else in the room where I couldn't see.

"-Push her down a flight of stairs. Make it look accidental." She smirked, glancing up to look at me before looking back down at what I assumed was homework.

Oh wow, okay. That was fast.

"What if she survives?" I asked, encouraging her evil plan.

She hummed some more, and the laughing from behind continued to grow.

Her eyes twinkled a mischievous glare, "...I'd push her real hard." She smiled harder as she looked away, her cheeks turning red, and the person behind the laughing finally coming into view.

"Jesus Sky-" Abby nudged Skyler as she sat down on the bed, joining her in close proximity, and if I'm being honest, I wasn't thrilled.

It felt different somehow- me being here and my girl being in the same room with a chick she, up until recently, fucked around with.

It's not like anything has changed- they're still just roommates, and that's my fault.

I'm so stupid.

Skyler leaned away from Abby to give her a look from over her shoulder since Abby was sitting slightly behind her, "Don't sky me." She said sternly, but the type of stern that was overly enthusiastic- playful.

It pissed me off.

My heart started to race, and my knuckles squeezed into a fist around nothing but my own skin.

"I gotta go. Joel needs help with something." I said, trying my best not to sound the alarms, but I could tell by the way Skyler's face looked she knew something was up.

"Oh, okay..." Her voice grew quiet- careful. She turned herself and the phone away so it was just her in the frame and the white wall behind her, "Talk later?" Her eyes grew big and puppy-ish. She was pleading with me- pleading for me to be okay.

It made me feel guilty.

"We'll see."

She took my response for what it was- open-ended and uninterested, but she didn't ask about it. I let her say her usual parting words and reciprocated when she told me she loved me, but I didn't believe it this time for some reason.

This feeling wasn't unwarranted. I felt it, which means it's real, right?

Maybe Skyler isn't this perfect angel that I always thought she was.

Maybe she was just really fucking good at lying.

I shifted my jaw, and my phone vibrated next to me. I picked it up, half expecting it to be Sky herself, but it wasn't.

It was an unsaved number.

"Party is happening at 11" it read, and not even two seconds later, another message.

"It's gonna be at Jay's place. I really hope you come El's."

Wow, I haven't heard from that guy since the first time I tried acid. He was there, and he was also, quite possibly, the worst trip sitter of the millennium.

I groaned, seeing the familiar colored heart that she'd always used to use when we were dating.

She never deleted my number, but it wouldn't have been good enough anyway.

I should've changed it when I left.

Angrily, I start typing, "Fuck off-" backspace, backspace.

"Go fuck yourself-" more backspacing, each letter disappearing faster than it took to type it out.

Tossing my phone to the side, stuck between not wanting to respond because why the fuck should I, and wanting to confront her about all the shitty, fuck up things she did to me because I was too pussy to do it back then.

Whatever. It would be a waste of breath anyway.

Instead, I lay there in silence- well, not really. The crickets and cicadas' screams were damn near deafening this time of year.

I was out of touch with what's real and what's not- second guessing my relationship with Skyler, and what I've sacrificed for said relationship.

I miss drugs. I miss being high out of my fucking mind to the point I couldn't feel anything- no pain, no grief or guilt...

I miss the quiet.

Fuck it.

I ran out of my emergency stash of weed. And if I know anything about what's going to be at that party, it's gonna be weed.

I yanked sweatpants on over my legs and threw a hoodie on before I gently turned the door handle. It creaked violently as I opened it up into the void of the hallway, and I paused between each set of centimeters that I opened it, checking to make sure that Joel stayed quiet- stayed asleep.

All I heard was the muffled sounds of his tv, but other than that, nothing.

The pain meds he was prescribed must really work.

Upon descending the stairs, I unlocked the deadbolt of the front door and turned the knob, the night welcoming me with the smell of wet concrete and the moon being especially bright tonight.

I felt like a teenager again, and not in that happy, nostalgic way. It felt more like a heaviness- an anchor.

My hand came up, rubbing my chest with my fingers, and I let out a slow exhale.

I'm just going to smoke a few joints and then bounce. Hell, if it were anyone else, it wouldn't be a big deal, so why do I feel like this?

𝐒𝐤𝐲

Abby leaned in and softened her voice along with her movements- slow and gentle.

"Are you two okay?" She said, barely loud enough before it would be considered a whisper.

I stared at my phone in my lap, the screen still opened to our last conversation, "Yeah... yeah, we're fine." I cleared my throat, my tone shifting to sound more confident- a facade.

A look washed over Abby's face- a look that said "If you say so" but she knew better, and so did I.

I felt her hand on my knee, squeezing slightly to get me to look at her.

"Get some sleep, yeah? Don't overthink it. You know how she is." She sounded sympathetic- or maybe it was pity.

"Yeah" I smiled at her half-heartedly, mostly to help ease her concern rather than my own, and whether she believed it or not, it made her comfortable enough to leave my side and get into her own bed.

I lay back, twisting my upper half to turn off the light at my bedside, and dragged the covers up to my chin.

I didn't want to think of the worst, but how can I not when it's Ellie? I liked to think I knew my girlfriend pretty well, but with her, I don't think you ever really could.

Truth is, there's a lot I haven't seen yet. I knew the basics, and I had a vague understanding of her home life. But even then, she's selective about what she is willing to share.

Was it the ex? I wasn't worried about her before, but after how our call ended, maybe I should be.

Or maybe, it's me.

Maybe she liked being away from me, and the distance has changed how she felt about us. And if that's the case, would she be the type to cheat?

I mentally shake the thought. I can't even begin to bear the idea of her doing that- not now, not tonight.

I closed my eyes extra tight, sealing them like an off switch directly wired to my brain, but if anything, that made it worse.

𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞

I was standing in front of the door, same chipped broken porch light, and the bulb flickering.

I heard the music from where I stood, and loud conversations being made between plywood and plaster.

It was scarily familiar but also different. All the times I've been here, I was high before even showing up, making the memories seem slightly out of it- more like a dream version of this place.

I open the door, and maybe I should've knocked, but there's no way in hell anyone would have even heard it, plus knocking isn't something that really happens here.

The air was hazy- thick. A deadly concoction of various types of poisons.

It burned.

I looked around, and vaguely recognized some of the faces, but heavy drug usage can only be so merciful on the appearance.

But that's when she shows up- Sam. Already greeting me at the door before I could take another step inside.

"Holy shit!" She yells over the music, wrapping her arms around my shoulders, and a lit joint tucked between her index and middle finger. "You actually came." She pulled back, and I could tell by the red, deadpan look in her eyes, she was gone.

She stood there, a cheesed out smile on her face, and a slight sway in her body like she couldn't find balance even on solid ground.

"Oh shit- how rude of me." She takes a drag, blowing the smoke out from the corner of her lips before holding it out for me to take.

I guess this is what I came here for, right?

"Thanks." I grab it, and take a long, very needed drag, holding it a few extra seconds longer for the full effect.

She was being overly friendly, which normally would send me into a fight or flight response, but I'm not here for her.

I needed this.

I started to hand it back to her, but she refused, shaking her head, "You hang onto it." She giggled and grabbed my free hand, turning me around as she walked ahead, still holding my hand, "Now c'mon, Ty's upstairs. He about shit his pants when I told him you were back in town."

My body cringes. The feeling of her hand in mine made me feel guilty, but for now, I can deal with it.

I take another hit, letting her drag me across the room to the stairway, and if he's any worse than the last time I saw him, I'm gonna need another joint.

And fuck was I right about needing another joint- or maybe even something stronger.

The room was barely inhabitable, at least not habitable for any human activity. There were needles scattered across the top of the dresser. Some had fallen off and onto the ground below, and empty, crinkled soda cans with puncture wounds and burns on the sides.

And then there's Tyler. The same kid I used to skateboard and bike around town with for hours.

He was hardly recognizable now.

He looked up mid rip from the bong in his hands, glossy eyes going wide- well, as wide as the could go given how fucked up he was.

"Williams!" He said, smoke seeping between his teeth on the exhale. He gets up, stumbling over to pull my hand in with his, bumping our shoulders together, "I never thought I'd see you here again after last time."

I chuckle nervously, reaching behind to stretch the back of my neck, "Yeah, me either."

Sam made her way past us, getting herself comfortable on the bed, and grabbing the lighter as she brought the bong to her lips, seemingly unaware of her surroundings.

And if I had to guess, it wasn't just the weed doing that.

And even though it was uncomfortable seeing one of my closest friends like this, I still felt like it had to happen- a reunion of some sort. I can acknowledge that I'm the lucky one.

I got out, and he didn't.

Tyler stumbled backwards, and fell into the bed, mattress bouncing beneath the both of them while I chose to sit in a chair beside it since the twin sized mattress seemed to struggle beneath the weight.

I watched him as he took the bong from Sam, and lit the bowl, the water bubbling as he inhaled.

"So-" He said thickly, blowing out the smoke, "how's college going?"

Internally, I screamed, but that manifested into a nervous laugh.

I take another hit, the hot embers burning my fingers from how short it was now.

I hadn't even realize how quickly I was going through it.

"About how you'd expect." I smiled- a crooked one at best, not wanting to come off like it was an accomplishment since I never wanted to go in the first place, but I also didn't want to come off as ungrateful.

He would've loved college.

He hummed and laughed. I'm not sure at what, but he seemed to be reminiscing about something.

He takes another hit, blowing the fumes into the room before holding it out for me to take.

"Nah man I'm good-" I laughed, leaning away.

Sam interjects, sitting up from the pillows, and looking over Tyler's shoulders, "Don't be a pussy, Williams." She smirks, black makeup smudged around her half opened eyes.

For a moment, I froze. Her tone sounded just like how it did back then when she'd straight up lie to my face about where she was, and who she was with, not an ounce of guilt about it.

I grabbed the bong and lighter, maybe a little more aggressive than I intended, but I was mad.

I shouldn't have came here.

Cautiously, I take a hit, but apparently not cautious enough since I about near coughed a lung out. In my defense, it's been awhile since I've smoked out of a bong.

After the coughing stopped and the laughs from both Tyler and Sam (mostly Sam) calmed down, I knew I fucked up.

The room started to spin- light beams steaming across the room in various colors and patterns.

This wasn't just weed.