Perfect Lie(13)

“I just spaced out.” I forced a laugh. “I must really be high.”

He smiled back, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He looked worried. I walked toward the house. Maybe if I hung out with Trish, I could stop thinking about my problems. Abel walked with me, but he stayed a step behind.

“Trish?” I called out as I stepped inside. I walked into the living room, and Trish was on one of the guys’ laps as she kissed him fiercely, her hips rocking to the beat of whatever song was playing. She was still fully clothed, but something told me it wouldn’t be long until that changed. Douche bag number two was watching them intently, his hand down the front of his jeans. “Trish!”

She pulled back from the guy’s face but kept her hands on his cheeks as she turned to look at me. Her smile grew wide, and I took a step back.

“You wanna join?” Her high‐pitched laugh turned my stomach, and I shook my head as I spun around, nearly running into Abel. “I knew you weren’t completely worthless.”

“It’s the drugs. Just ignore her,” he whispered, but I even as I tried to feel anger instead of sadness, tears filled my eyes. It was an odd relief for the dryness of my high, and I wanted to let everything out but not in front of this guy. I refused to look like any more of a fucking loser. I didn’t need to do anything, though; Trish took care of that for me. It was high school all over again.

“Whatever. It’s not like Brock would care anyway. He never even calls you.” She made a snorting sound as she laughed, and I found it fitting that she sounded like a pig as she made fun of me. The guys on the couch didn’t seem to care about the ugliness she spewed, because she was pretty on the outside, and that’s all that ever mattered.

I pushed by Abel and stopped in front of the door. I couldn’t just leave her there. I wasn’t that kind of person. Instead I turned toward the other archway and walked into a small kitchen.

My eyes fixed on a tan piece of trim that looked severely out of place in the dilapidated house. I glanced at the refrigerator, and my stomach growled.

“Hungry?” Abel’s voice was hushed, and the smell of weed and his cologne filled the musky room. I nodded, feeling like a fool for not leaving.

He walked around me and pulled open a cupboard. Inside was a plastic grocery bag full of goodies. He placed it on the island and smiled as he looked at me.

“Always be prepared.” He pulled out a box of cookies and a bag of chips.

“You’re a Boy Scout. I think I liked you better when I thought you were crazy,” I joked, and he laughed, shaking his head.

“I never said I wasn’t crazy.” His eyebrows rose as he held up the cookies. I nodded, and he slid over to me as he pulled a small bottle from the bag. He twisted off the cap and popped a pill into his mouth.

“She’s not normally like this.” I didn’t know why I felt the need to explain Trish to Abel.

“I know what she’s like.” He didn’t elaborate, and my heart sank as I realized he probably knew Trish very well. Everyone did. He didn’t seem the least bit fazed that she was preparing for a gang bang in the next room either.

I took a bite of a chocolate chip cookie, my eyes falling closed as I savored the deliciousness.

“Good, huh?” He grabbed one from the pack and popped the entire thing into his mouth.

“Why are you here?” I didn’t intend for the question to sound rude, but my filter seemed to flicker on and off.

“Same reason you are.”

“I didn’t know this was where I was going, or I probably wouldn’t have come.”

“Well…” His eyes shimmered as the moonlight caught them. “I’m glad you didn’t know.” My heart thumped double time in my chest before he continued. “It can suck baby‐sitting those assholes alone.”

“I know the feeling.” I rolled my eyes and finished my cookie as Trish called out from the other room and the music grew louder. “Help yourself to the snacks.” He sat the bottle on the counter, and the pills rattled.

He smirked and left the kitchen to see what she wanted. Morbid curiosity wanted me to follow, but I took another cookie and waited, not wanting to be tormented by Trish.

Abel was a good guy, here for his friend, just like I was. I let my imagination drift as I pictured him lying on a surfboard, his hands dipping into water that matched the color of his eyes. He seemed like he had no cares whatsoever. I wondered why he’d ever need to see a shrink. It didn’t make any sense. I picked up the pill bottle and read the label. He was on Vicodin now, and I knew I’d just become his baby‐sitter as well. The giggling and cheers grew louder, and I grabbed a cookie as I walked past the stairs to the living room. Abel was on the love seat, where I’d seen him when I’d first come in. Now Trish was straddling his lap and dancing to “Boom” by Anjulie.