Mess To Be Made

22

"Hi," I whispered.

"What's up," Cory asked. I could hear people in the background. "You okay?"

"Um, yeah," I started. "Sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"Where you at," Cory asked casually. Either he was ignoring or oblivious to my uneasy tone. "Want to come hang?"

I hesitated. "Where are you?"

"Mikey's," he replied.

Mikey Feller. He was a junior and one of the biggest drug dealers at our school. Him and his best friend Jeremy Fisher sold pot, for the most part. But I know Chad had gotten coke from him once.

"Want to come hang?" Cory repeated. Before I could answer, he said, "I'll ask."

I heard Cory's muffled voice and then a handful of other voices. Cory came back on the line. "Yeah. Come over."

"You sure?" I asked, looking down at my lap. I couldn't quite believe that I was about to go hang out with Cory Bernard at Mikey Feller's house because my best friend thought I was a jealous bitch.

Things really had changed.

"Yes, Al, I'm sure. I'll text you the address. You sure you're okay?"

I nodded, even though he couldn't see. "Yeah. I'm fine. I'll be better soon. Text me."

Within 15 minutes, I was pulling up at Mikey Feller's house. It was nothing like my friends' houses. Nothing like my house. It was one story, the grass in the front lawn hadn't been touched in what looked like years. Paint was peeling. The screen door covering the front door was torn.

Still, despite my hesitation, I got out of my car, immediately locking it, and headed toward the front door. I called Cory to tell him I was outside.

I wasn't sure I was doing the right thing as I hung up and waited at the door. At the same time, I wasn't sure what was right or wrong anymore. My best friend had turned on me. And all I wanted to do was get high. And this was my safest option.

Mikey opened the door and his lips curled into a smile. "Allie Carson."

"Yeah," I snapped, tilting my chin up as I walked past him. "Don't get used to it. Where's Cory?"

"Relax, sweetheart," he said coolly, closing the front door. He then jerked his head toward the hallway. "This way."

Mikey's room was way too small for the number of people packed into it. There were six guys and the second I walked in, I was hit by a wave of smoke. I probably didn't even need to smoke myself. Standing in this room for 5 minutes would have me high, for sure.

"Allie!" I heard Cory's excited voice, and it took me a second to find him seeing as every single pair of eyes snapped toward me. Conversation silenced.

I was used to this. Guys staring, halting conversations. I just wasn't used to it in this setting.

Cory was on the far side of the room, sitting on a chair. I immediately walked over to him, ignoring the eyes on me, and sat on his lap. I took the joint from between his fingers and brought it to my lips.

"So to what do we owe the honor, Allie Carson," Mikey said, sitting in another stray chair in his room as he grabbed a bong sitting on the floor beside him.

"No honor here," I replied, exhaling. I took a moment to actually look around the room. I had no clue who any of these guys were, other than Mikey and the red-headed boy sitting on the bed. Jeremy Fisher.

One of Cory's hands rested on my back while the other snatched the joint out of my hands. He whispered, before pressing it to his lips, "Go find your own."