𝖋𝖑𝖔𝖜𝖊𝖗 𝖕𝖔𝖜𝖊𝖗 ⋆ 𝕶𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖓 𝖉𝖆𝖞

𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖞 𝖘𝖎𝖝

╔═══°∴,*⋅✲══〖✰〗══✲⋅*,∴°═══╗

The man she used to call her best friend is offering her a ziploc bag of white powder.

Maybe they weren't ever really friends. Perhaps it was just easy to pretend, because pretending meant you had someone to spot you while you tripped and would split a dime bag when money was tight. Daisy reflects on the man before her, wearing an oversized tribal-print cardigan, loose jeans twice the width of his actual leg, and Birkenstocks with thick socks underneath.

Shit, she fucking hates Cameron. Staring at him right now, with those awful bags under his eyes and his bloated cheeks, she wants to punch him. She can smell him from here, and she knows she probably used to smell like that too. His brain has been through the microwave one too many times to remember to wash his hair, or scrub under his fingernails; Daisy's brain was once the same way.

"Well?" he asks, shaking the bag at her. The coke tips from one corner to the other, and Daisy feels her pupils dilate at the sight of it.

"Uh, no," she replies, folding her arms tight over her chest. "I don't really do that anymore."

Cameron's expression turns sour. "Fuckin' lame, Cohen. You used to be fun."

"No, I used to be a heroin addict," she retorts. The words send a physical jolt through Cameron's body. "Don't get the two confused."

She feels a presence at her back, and turns slightly to see someone taller, broader, and dressed in a black sweater.

"Oh," says Cameron. "Traded me in for the better model, huh?"

"Don't flatter yourself," Daisy snorts. "I wouldn't be bragging to any of my friends about the Three-Inch-Thunder."

"Daisy," says Kevin finally, after locking Cameron in a hard glare for a few moments. "Reynolds is looking for you."

"Sure," she replies. Cameron rolls his eyes and turns, disappears into the crowd, leaving the two alone. "Where is she?

Kevin says, "No fucking clue. You looked like you wanted out."

A smile breaks out over Daisy's face. This is something new: she lets herself enjoy this little moments of Kevin breaking free of his own thoughts to pay attention to her. She doesn't suppress the butterflies when he remembers her favourite breakfast, doesn't hide her smiles when he subconsciously holds open doors for her or pulls out her chair at the diner before sitting down himself.

Somehow, in a room full of people, she's never felt more intimate with him. He stares down at her in the dim light, surrounded by a hundred student athletes celebrating the end of exams in the basement study rooms of Fox Tower, where the air smells like spilt liquor and sounds like thumping music neither of them give a shit about.

"Do you want to go upstairs?"

Daisy's eyes scan the room. Dan and Matt, and Aaron and Katelyn are making out in opposite corners of the room, Renee is chatting to some of her religious group friends with Allison idling at her side, Neil has been dragged away by some of the Vixens, and Nicky is playing beer pong. Will anybody notice their disappearance? Will they come looking upstairs and find something they're not supposed to? She looks back at Kevin.

"Duh."

She takes his hand and weaves around groups of people, flashing the Old Daisy smile at them when they greet her with red cups in the air and wild expressions. They don't realise how different she is now, how much her life has changed in eight and a half months. She'd be the one dancing on tables, the one doing shots with anybody who asked, the one disappearing to the bathrooms to teach newcomers how to suck on pills and wipe off the coating so they're easier to snort through a dollar bill. They still think that's her, even though she turned up to the party wearing sweatpants and a tank top, nothing on her face but cherry Lipsmacker, faded red hair in a ponytail away from her eyes.