𝟒𝟕

❥ 𝐭𝐰 - 𝖽𝗋𝗎𝗀𝗌, 𝖻𝖺𝖽 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗍 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗅 𝗂𝗆 𝗉𝗎𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖻𝖼 𝗂 𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗍 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍 𝗅𝗈𝗅

𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞

I want to make something clear-  no, I didn't expect this is how my night was going to go.

And yes I should've known that my chances for a relapse quadrupled as soon as I opened that fucking door, but hooking up with my ex? It's a new low, given the fact that I have a girl waiting for me, a girl that I would kill for, a girl I would live for, and I've completely wasted it.

In my defense, I'm fucked up. Like completely, one hundred percent out of it, and If I weren't, I never would've touched this girl again.

It wasn't bad though, the high I mean.

I knew this was a bad thing, and it is going to suck tomorrow when I realize it, but for now, I'm on cloud fucking nine, brain turned the fuck off, and I can feel everything.

I can feel her tongue in my mouth, her hands in my hair, and her pussy wrapped around my fingers.

She was warm. Soft. And if I kept my eyes closed, she was her.

𝐒𝐤𝐲

As of 6 minutes ago, it had been a full 24 hours since I've last heard from Ellie.

Now, normally, that wouldn't be a big deal because communication was never her strongest attribute, but after how that call ended, I just felt it.

That something- like a cricket chipping beneath the floorboards, but no matter how many planks you rip up, you can't find the source of that annoying fucking sound.

It was eating at me, and at first I was good at hiding it, but abby knew. All day she tried keeping me busy, whether it was going to the gym, getting food or just keeping me engaged with conversations.

She's a good friend- a good person.

I wish she'd just stop.

Any other time, I'd be grateful for having someone like her, but for once I needed someone to be straightforward with me, but maybe that's my fault since the last time she tried, I basically told her to fuck off.

I was in the passenger seat, Abby behind the wheel, driving back to campus after a late night gas station stop for snacks since she was hell bent on a horror movie marathon- definitely has nothing to do with the fact I'm so obviously loosing my fucking mind even if I was keeping quiet about it.

I was looking down at my phone, rereading through all my sent texts to Ellie that had stopped turning blue sometime around when my calls were being sent straight to voicemail.

Did her phone die? And if that's the case, why hasn't she charged it?

Broken maybe?

"Hello~" Abby said, singing slightly but more out of annoyance, and waved her hand in front of my face before turning the volume down on the radio.

"Huh?"

She gave me a look, the kind of look that was half way between concern and irritability, "Did you hear me? I said I think we should start with the scream movies since you haven't seen them."

"Yeah, sure." I sighed, and started to type on the keyboard, "Sounds good, Abs." I was absent from Abby, which isn't fair to her, she's my friend, and has proven herself to be a great one, and I can't say I've been the same for her.

"Are you okay?"

"Please call me"

"Should I be worried?"

"I love you"

All the things I've typed out but never sent, the truth is, I'm scared of the answers to any of them.I also don't think I'd be able to handle another green fucking bubble tonight without going into a full-fledged psychosis.

I heard Abby sigh as she shifted the car into park as we pulled into parking lot, turning the key in the ignition, "Sky, you can't keep doing this to yourself. Give it a rest, she's probably just busy,"

I rolled my eyes, not intentionally, but I couldn't help it.

Busy?

Does she even believe what she's saying?

"M'not." I mumbled, and turned my body towards the car door, opening it.

She gets out, and rounds the hood of her car, slightly jogging to catch up with me, "You're such a shit liar, you know that, right?" She scoffed, and I stopped walking.

She doesn't get it.

"Am I not allowed to be worried about my girlfriend?"

She turned around, shifting her weight on a hip, "That's not what I said."

I huffed, and rolled my eyes, walking past her. "Whatever, Abigail." I mumbled under my breath, and it felt wrong as soon as I did it.

She was just trying to help. I know that.

It's not her fault she doesn't know about the drugs, and I need to stop acting like it is.

-

Abby was midway through unlocking our room door, both of us quiet, and the tension was probably more noticeable on my end.

She opens the door, walking inside and I was right behind her.

The plastic bag full of goodies crinkled as she sat it down, and I walked up behind her, tugging on her wrist.

She turned, her hair falling loose over her shoulder, and I start to cry.

It was overwhelming- the thinking. I was both scared out of my fucking mind, and so worried I thought my chest was going to collapse around my heart.

"I don't know what to do." My voice cracked in that annoying way that I've grown to despise, but not Abby.

She sat me down on the bed, her hand never leaving my shoulder as she coaxed gentle circles with her thumb.

"Talk to me, Sky. What's going on?" She came down to my level, but still kept her distance, maybe to be respectful, but it felt unnecessary at this point.

And now that I'm really thinking about it, I trusted her more than I ever did with Ellie, which isn't how it should be.

I rubbed my nose with my sleeve, the wool fibers making the tip feel raw, "I'm worried." I sniffled some more, tugging the cuffs down around my hands with my fingers, scared to make eye contact because I knew how this looked- like an overbearing girlfriend with way too many insecurities.

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees as they drifted apart, and interlocked her fingers.

"Because of the ex?" She asked, but with her words came an eerie silence.

I swiped my fingers under my eye, collecting the tears and spreading them to my temple, and nodded.

"Hey-" Abby said, grabbing me by my shoulders, and twisting my upper half to to face her, "Ellie would be a fucking idiot to cheat on you, and I'd beat her ass if she did." Her tone was now louder, more demanding and passionate, which only made me think that she really did just see this as a me being insecure thing.

"No, Abby..." I signed, and shook my head.

She released me, and raised her eyebrows like she was waiting for a further explanation, but was failing to hide her lack of patience based on her expression.

It wasn't my place to air out Ellie's business, and under any other circumstances, I wouldn't, but I'm at a crossroads, both directions equally foreboding.

𝐀𝐛𝐛𝐲

I waited for what felt like minutes. I felt my heart pump harder with frustration, partly because of Sky, but definitely more so because of Ellie.

All day, I knew she was holding it in, trying her best to not seem affected, and I didn't want to say it then because I knew it would only confirm her already withering mindset, but what kind of girlfriend doesn't return your calls for that long?

I wanted to give Ellie the benefit of the doubt for Skyler's sake that maybe something really did come up, and she wasn't able to talk, but how hard is it to send a fucking text?

Whatever it is that Skyler is working herself up to say, she was hesitant about it.

She turns to me, first looking at her lap, plucking the pills off her sweater before looking up. With her nose red and eyes already swollen and glossy, she takes a deep breath,

"There's something else I'm worried about."

𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞

The morning after the party.

My head is pounding, mouth dry, and I can't find my fucking phone.

I tried sitting up, but a weight was holding me down. At first, I didn't know where I was, or even whose fucking arm was on my chest.

I grabbed it, tossing it off, and a low grumble is heard from the person attached to the arm. It was Sam.

"Fuck-"

I scrambled to get out of bed and threw on clothes I wasn't even sure were mine, my vision flashing with remnants of what went down last night- a mirror on the nightstand, residue of a powdery substance smeared on the surface, bottles on bottles piled in the corner of the room, and something a little more concerning- a pin-sized hole high on my forearm, the skin around it already turning shades of blue and green.

What. The. Fuck.

I pressed the skin around it, wincing slightly out of discomfort, but I don't have time to dissect my fuck-ups right now.

The sun was up. And sooner or later, Joel is going to notice I'm not home.

Fuck the phone.

I ran, and by ran I mean sprinted out of the house, shoes tucked under my arm and my feet slapping against the hot concrete all the way down to my truck.

Pulling out of the cul-de-sac, I knew I definitely wasn't sober enough to be driving, but it felt like my life depended on it. I needed to get home. I can't disappoint him, not again.

My fingers tightened around the steering wheel, hand placements at two and ten to be extra cautious since I was still seeing doubles of everything, including the lines on the road.

I glance down at the digital clock.

10:17 a.m.

Not as early as I'd like it to be, but still early enough that there's a chance he hasn't noticed I wasn't there.

As an extra precaution, just in case he was up and about, I stopped to get breakfast and coffee from his favorite spot. I had to cover my bases, and if that meant almost tearing off my bumper in the drive-through, so be it.

I pull into the driveway and roll down my sleeves, looking in the review mirror. I looked like shit, there's no doubt about that, but it could pass as the after-effects of a rough night's sleep.

Hopefully.

When I opened the front door, he was on the stairway, slowly making his way down. He looked surprised, and I was paranoid it was because of my appearance.

"I was looking for you. Bout' to make some eggs, want some?"

Thank god I covered thoes bases.

"I gotcha donuts and coffee. You still like the old fashioned, right?" I held up the box, and I felt lightheaded, like I was about to puke up everything I've ever eaten, but I continued to smile.

He scoffed, and nodded, "Yes, ma'am, I do."

He takes the box from me, and I followed him to the dining table as he sat down, placing the coffee in front of him.

I was breaking out in a cold sweat, vision even blurrier than it was when I was driving, and the room was spinning.

I prayed to whoever the fuck that I was doing a good job pretending, and was coming off normal to him, and thankfully it seemed to be working.

"I uh-" I mumbled, clearing my throat, "-I gotta go shower, so I'll leave you to it." I turned away and started to walk towards the stairs. And he said something back, but I have no fucking clue what, too focused on not fainting and splitting my head open on the ground.

I shut my bedroom door behind me, my back sliding down as I rested against it.

What.

The.

Fuck.

I don't know what's worse, the relapse or the fucking aftermath of it. It's been awhile since I've felt like this, and this would be a good feeling to remember just in case I ever need a reminder why this shit isn't worth it.

I mean, what's up with the obvious needle mark?

Waking up next to Sam half naked?

Oh, no.

I got up, looking it the mirror, and leaned my head from side to side. I stretched out my neck, looking for hickies or anything that would help piece together last night.

I stripped down to my boxers and sports bra, and at first, I thought I was clean- no suspicious bruising, teeth marks, or scratches that would point to something like that had happened, but I caught a glimpse of something peaking out from the top of my chest.

Hesitantly, I pulled back the hem, and boom, there it was, broken blood vessels and all, and the more I uncovered myself, the denser it got.

This bad by itself, but that doesn't mean I did anything in return to her, right?

What does that fucking matter though? Even if Sam acted on her own will, I still fucking relapsed, and god knows what I put into my blood stream last night.

I walked backwards, knees wobbly until they hit the side of the bed frame, and I let myself fall onto it. I felt sick- not just from the circulation of drugs still lingering, but sick with myself.

I fucked up.

I fucked up bad.

It's hitting me now- the indisputable consequences that are waiting for me.

Before, I never cared. It simply never crossed my mind what would happen to me, but now, I have something that's worth being scared of losing, and something that's equally worth giving a shit about.

Maybe it's for the best that Skyler didn't find out.