Yea, Will es un chico loco.
It’s why I like hanging out with him.He definitely brings the distraction.
So, the night we did the molly, Will and I were at his friend’s house, and I’m not surehoworwhywe ended up in lingerie, butwe were high as fuck and the night ended with us screwing each other’s brains out.
I guess that appealed to the frat bros, because they promised to get meextra highif I dressed up like a girl and let them fuck me. I was skeptical, but I also really wanted to be high, and I wanted to be high more than I was skeptical.
So I agreed, and they went out and somehowfounda Catholic schoolgirl costume somewhere? I have no idea where it came from… I think someone borrowed it from someone’s girlfriend?
Hardly matters.They presented it to me to try on, and the rest is… hazy. But I know they both fucked me—even without the broken memories, I can feel it in various areas of my body—and as much as I want to pretend I was just super fucked up, I definitely remember liking it.
I remember getting offhard… On all fours withrandom frat boygripping my skirt and pumping into me from behind whileother random frat boyfisted my hair and pushed down my throat.
“Mmm, that’s a good girl. Take this cock in your little pussy…”
“Such a pretty whore…”
Lifting my face, I wipe the water away, gazing at myself in the mirror. I don’t recognize the person staring back at me.
“Who are you…?” I whisper.
“…you shouldn’t be giving yourself to random fuckboys who will never truly see you…”
I touch my reflection.
“They will never understand you, pajarito. Not as I do.”
Rage blooms, and I snarl, “Ugh!” Punching the glass.
Blood from my knuckles smears my reflection in the mirror. But I feel nothing more than a dull throb from the untreated wound in my chest.
A noise outside the door tells me it’s time to go.I don’t want to be around when these people wake up.
Popping a few Advil from the medicine cabinet, I find my clothes and get dressed. Then I slink out of the apartment, zipping up my puffy coat and tugging my beanie onto my head to shield from the cold of December in Manhattan. I’m instantly shivering, from the frigid air or coming down…Probably both.
Digging in my pockets, I find some drugs, some cash, and my phone. I go to McDonald’s and order some greasy food to help this hangover, sneaking off to the bathroom to fill my nostrils with powder while I wait for it.
I’m kind of just lingering, sitting at the table with my knee bouncing rapidly, eyes flinging up at every sound or movement in my peripheral. It’s not a good idea for me to do coke… It makes mewaymore paranoid than I already am that one of The Ivory’s guys is going to show up at any moment and grab me. I’m constantly looking over my shoulder, and it’s exhausting.
Will today be the day…?
Will he find me…
My phone buzzes on the table, startling me out of my exceedingly worrisome thoughts. It’s a text from Leah. She’s saying that she misses me and she hopes I’m okay…
Even this prompts a crashing wave of panic.
What if he got to her?? What if he’s using her to get to me…
Scoffing, I shake my head and power off my phone.He must think I’m really fucking stupid…
Sniffing, I peer around the fast-food restaurant as people come and go. I guess I should just go home—if that’s what you wanna call it.
For the last few months, I’ve been living in a two-bedroom apartment in Flatbush with four roommates. The place is crowded as fuck, understandably. And still, my rent is fivehundred bucks a month…For an air mattress in the corner of a five-hundred square-foot apartment.
Oh, New York, you overpriced cunt.
Needless to say, I try to spend as little time there as possible, stopping by just to sleep and shower.And recover from wild nights of raging and debauchery.
