Midnight Toxicity

6.

I didn't leave. Why the hell would I?

Just because I left the diamonds upstairs, it did not mean Ian, and I had reached an understanding. Not even close. Sex, even oral, had shit to do with business.

No, that's foreplay.

When I came downstairs, I shut myself in the half-bath by the back exit. A key-coded door drew my curiosity, but ignored the pull to snoop.

I reapplied my makeup before twisting my long locks into a ponytail with braids looped in. After what happened my freshman year, I thought about keeping my hair cut short, but then I decided, growing it out was a better fuck you to the petty bitches who attacked me. Satisfied with my appearance after swishing the mouthwash I kept in my bag, I stepped out where a group of girls shot me nasty scowls as they brushed past me to freshen up as well. That, or snort coke without their boyfriends.

I found Jack sandwiched between two blondes who dared to mouth slut behind his back, as if my best friend wouldn't cut their cute faces into ribbons with a rusty tin can if given a chance. Jack liked to throw the term 'psycho' around as if he were not a tad unhinged himself.

He had serious denial issues.

They hid their unhappiness when he snagged my arm, leading the way to the kitchen. The boy never stayed mad at me; our tiff earlier, already forgiven. Staying angry was not an option because we were each other's person.

"You hate cold cheese, so I popped a plate in the microwave to wait," he spoke over his shoulder, his hand warm in mine as we weaved through the crowd. "How did it go with Ian?"

"Eh," I hedged, my head on a swivel to gauge how big the party grew while upstairs. Jared had disappeared, but I felt eyes on me. Nothing new there — but when I glanced up, Ian's heavy-lidded stare drilled through me on the top of the metal catwalk. "Still smoothing out the wrinkles. Feed me!"

He grinned; his boyish features lit under the overhead canned lighting in the semi-crowded galley. "Are you drinking tonight?" Meaning if I did, he would abstain.

One night, we both overindulged. A guy almost got the upper hand when he drugged us to steal the weed Jack had been peddling. It wasn't pretty what Jack ended up doing to his lower back. Let's just say every time he undresses, the dick-shaped tramp stamp draws raised eyebrows. "Maybe a little? I don't know. It's been a day from hell."

Jack frowned, heating the nachos while some asshole asked if I planned to share. I told him to make his own, and he helped himself to Ian's food. I wouldn't be surprised if Ian woke to a bare house in the morning.

Crossing my arms, I noticed a clear line of sight from the front to the rear exit. I couldn't wait to rent my first apartment, but this place was too open for my taste. There were rooms down the hallway, but heavily locked.

What were Jared and Ian hiding?

"Come on." Jack grabbed the plate when the cooker beeped, and we glared at a couple until they vacated a red love seat. I perched on his lap, digging into the cheesy goodness with his left arm wrapped loosely around my middle. "Here, take a sip."

I sucked my greasy fingers lewdly until he laughed before guzzling the ice-cold beer he offered. We sat in companionable silence while I ate, very much aware of the curious looks we had garnered.

The girls hated how close we were, and the tears on one's rosy cheeks as she hissed, "Gutter whore", after I caught her gaze had me betting my new purple leather jacket Jack screwed her before I returned.

Jack was always horney, and it never bothered me that he would ditch women as soon as his nuts emptied. He promised them nothing but orgasms, and they were all for it. Still, I often took the brunt of their misguided affections. It sucked to be the one to explain how awful my best friend was at relationships.