Nope.
Fucking hell. Making my way throughout the house, I check each room as I go. Did it fucking grow legs and leave me too? I’m about to turn around and head back upstairs, when my nose starts to run. Wiping it with the back of my hand, I’m startled by the red smear when I pull my hand away.
Shit, my fucking nose is bleeding.
I shuffle down the hall to the bathroom by my dad’s office. Turning on the light, I grab a tissue. My fingers press the bridge of my nose, while my other hand holds the tissue up to my nostrils.
Peering at my reflection in the mirror, I’m not all that shocked at how shitty I look. My eyes are bloodshot and gaunt, pupils dilated all to hell, and I have dark bags under my eyes. There’s excess blood on my chin that dripped from my nose, and it’s gotten on my shirt too. I haven’t had a shower in three or four days at this point, I’ve lost track. My hair is greasy and looks like I’ve been electrocuted, and if I sniffed under my arms, I’d bet it’d smell ripe as fuck.
I should probably shower before this party. Not that I really care, but it’s common courtesy tonotsmell like a public toilet when you’re around a group of people.
The bleeding seems to have stopped. Throwing the tissue in the wastebasket next to the toilet, I notice my phone sitting there… on the floor.
Huh. How’d that get there?
When the screen unlocks, thirty-seven unanswered texts wait for me, along with fifteen missed calls. He’s started leaving voicemails, and he wasn’t before. It’s also only seven in the morning.
What the actual fuck?!
There are stillhoursbefore I need to leave. What the hell am I going to do with all that time?! Guess I could take a nap. And then shower.
Fuck it, I’ll do that.
Lying down on my bed, I close my eyes, and in what feels like no time at all, I’m out. Not surprising, since I’ve barely gotten any sleep over the last few days.
By the time I wake up, shower, and head over to Kalen’s, it’s hella fucking late—almost midnight. I forgot to set an alarm, and when I woke up, my mouth was drier than a fucking desert and it was dark outside.
Oops.
The weather is warm and muggy tonight, despite the late hour. I can vaguely hear music from outside the house as I get out of my car. Pushing the front door open, the house is dark for the most part. Kalen has some string lights lit up in the living room, where I imagine everyone is, but other than that, it’s darkness.
With my hands in my pockets, I cross the entryway, making my way toward the living room. The song changes as I enter the room. I don’t know it, but the beat is chill and relaxed. I like it. There’s four other people here, aside from Kalen—three chicks, one whom I’ve met before but can’t remember her name, the other two are complete strangers, and one guy, I think one of Kalen’s runners. Paul, I think?
“’Sup,” I grumble, my chin lifting in a nod.
“Damn, finally fucking here. What happened to you, bro?” Kalen asks, passing a lit blunt to one of the chicks.
“I ended up falling asleep for too long.”
“Right on. Come sit down and hit this.” Kalen grabs the blunt back from the girl, extending his hand out to me as I sit beside him.
Taking it from him, I place it between my lips, inhaling the earthy smoke into my lungs. My body almost immediately relaxes as I exhale. Hitting it once more, I pass it to my right to the guy, Paul, or whatever his fucking name is.
Relaxing into the couch, we pass the blunt back and forth a few times before it’s gone, listening to music, and just chillin’. One of the girls eventually goes home with Paul—that is his name, I figured it out—but the other two stay.
“Aye,” I say, slapping Kalen’s arm and bringing my mouth up by his ear. “Got any white?”
“Nah, man. I’m out until tomorrow. My supplier is out of town getting some shit, so my stash is hella limited. Got some H, though. It’s good shit. The girls and I did some this morning.”
Heroin.
Shit, that’s one thing I haven’t done before. Do I really want to go down that road? Fucking heroin. That’s like as fucked up as it can get.
Who am I kidding? “Fuck it. Let’s do it, man.”
He pulls some out from his pocket, dumping the powder onto the glass top coffee table. I’ve never seen heroin in person before; it’s an off-white color, almost light brown. My mouth waters and my pulse kicks up a notch. Kalen cuts up four small lines, one for each of us.
Rolling up a bill, he turns, handing it to me. “You’re up, boss.”