I Knew Her As August

eighteen: tobacco sunrise

Nicki had lost track of how long she and Gus had been sitting on the roof. She figured they had passed the clear bag back and forth twenty times so, hours, maybe?

"I forgot to tell you," Gus said between sniffling, "your little friend called a cab and went home."

Nicki brushed her nose with the back of her hand. The wind blew at the base of her neck but she couldn't feel the chill now. She couldn't feel anything.

"My little....,oh, you mean Tulip?" she coughed.

"Yeah. She seemed freaked out about something. That's why I was in the front yard, to make sure she got picked up okay," Gus said, handing the baggy back to Nicki. The once full sack was now thinning out. Nicki took another key bump to her nose roughly, not taking a second to check if there was any air in her lungs.

"You're so nice, Gus. So thoughtful of others," Nicki gushed. She handed the drugs back to him, but he only held it in his hand, not taking another hit.

"You don't have to lie to me." He murmured, turning his face away.

"I'm not! You've always been nice to me. You give me rides and shit." Nicki put her hand on his shoulder.

"I'm not the only one. I saw someone drop you off in the little sports car," Gus stated bluntly.

Nicki felt a weird flop in the pit of her stomach. Her lips felt numb, like they had fallen off her face when she wasn't looking.

"That was nothing. I didn't know you saw that," she scrambled. Her brain couldn't put two thoughts together to decide if she should tell him about Wyatt or not.

Gus opened the baggy and inhaled a generous pile into his nose, not looking at Nicki.

"He doesn't give me rides all the time. We were just hanging out," Nicki heard herself say. She felt like she was no longer in her body and was just a spectator to the conversation.

"It's not really my business," Gus's voice was monotone. Nicki wondered if he also felt out of his body; the two of them circling in the air above like two stars lost somewhere amongst the universe.

"You should just be careful with the Omens," Gus finally said, his voice harsh.

"What do you know about the Omens?" Nicki hissed.

"Enough to know that not everything is what it pretends to be," Gus murmured between his teeth. The bag was nearly empty. Nicki chewed obsessively on the inside of her cheek.

"You don't know Wyatt. He's not like that. He's always been soft with me," Nicki said with confidence. Gus inhaled sharply from the bag again, glaring up at Nicki as he wiped at his nose.

"Hah, I'm sure he has."

Nicki snatched the bag out of his fingers and finished it off without even using the key. She felt the powder sting her skin and electrocute her brain as it rolled down her cheeks. She coughed a cloud of smoke and blood.

"You see? You take things too far because you never know when to stop," Gus wailed, steadying Nicki so she wouldn't tumble off the roof from her fit of coughing. She spit onto the shingles.

"I've been in a cage my whole life. Would it be so wrong if I flew away?" Nicki whispered, mostly to herself. She couldn't tell if she wanted more drugs or to fill her veins with ice cold water or simply throw herself off the roof. The empty plastic baggy slipped from her trembling fingertips and drifted away with the wind.

The world felt very far away from the silence of the rooftops. It was as if her worries were the worries of another person with another life — not the ones of some girl getting high on the roof of a house.