The girl next door, - ᴛ.ᴋᴀᴜʟɪᴛᴢ

Chapter twelve.

• ANSWER - TYLER, THE CREATOR

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It had been a week.

Now that we had three weeks off, I was going to be spending most of my time at Bill's house.

It was awkward around Tom, but only when Bill was near. Alone, let's say the hookups were casual by now.

"Hey, missed you," Bill smiled, taking my bag as I kissed his cheek, and he kissed mine. "Come on, my ass is freezing off." He led me inside, putting my bag down and heading to his room.

I followed, my gaze stuck on Tom's room before I looked down, and headed into Bill's as he dropped onto his bed, and I came down with him.

"We're all exhausted. The concert was insane, as usual, but the owner of the building, this fucking bitch, didn't let us have fire." Bill mumbled, head resting on my shoulder as he grabbed his mini-mirror, and started to remove his makeup.

A few giggles escaped at the way he pronounced this, but I just nodded. I was too focused on Tom's room.

"Hey, stop staring into the distance and get out of your work clothes. Take some of mine if you need, I'm gonna set up the movie." Bill waved a hand infront of my face, trying to gauge my reaction.

I nodded with a smile, slipping off of the bed and grabbing a shirt from his floor before heading into the bathroom.

Undressing, I pulled on the shirt that reached just past my thighs. I left my pants on the floor, and emerged from the bathroom in one of Bill's "Affliction" shirts.

I grabbed my bag, crawling onto the bed as I tipped out the bunches of candy with a grin, watching Bill's face light up immediately. I glanced at the baggie of meth in the pile and quickly put it back into my bag.

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Bill was fast asleep, and I was on the verge of passing out myself. But before I did, I wanted to check on Tom.

I slowly laid Bill down, grabbing a pack of Skittles and a Mars bar. After a few shifts, I stumbled out of bed to Tom's doorframe. My knuckles rapped against the wood.

He was sitting at his desk, head down on the table, and papers scattered around him.

"Brought you a little something," I whispered, smiling as I put down the two pieces of candy and tilted my head.

. . .

"Tom," I shook his arm, getting a snore in response. I let out a long sigh, pulling his arm over my shoulder and hearing him whimper.

Oh my god?

His arms draped around me tight, his head sliding into the crook of my neck and his tall figure leaning down unsteadily.

For a minute, I just stood there, in his arms with my head on his shoulder.

Hugs were never my thing. Anything involving being touched. But it felt like this was something I was missing. He was so warm, so secure even in his tired state.

After a good few seconds, I carefully pushed him down onto his bed, pulling the covers over him and starting to walk away.

Well, I wasn't tired anymore. Needed to do something about that.

I went back into Bill's room, opening my bag and pulling out the baggie of meth. I took the lighter off of Bill's dresser, then headed out to the kitchen.

My gaze drifted over the drawers, pulling one open and grabbing a spoon. I ran the stovetop, flicking the lighter and sparking a flame on one of the jets. I opened the bag, tipping the ice onto the spoon and holding it over the fire.

It'll be a one-time thing. I just wanted to try it.

With my free hand, I picked up a needle from the drawer, boiled it, and then put it to the side. I grabbed the spoon and saw the meth melt into a liquid. I reached for the needle, sucking it up and grabbing a belt from Bill's room.

--Back to the kitchen. Flick the needle, no air bubbles. Sat on the floor, tightened the belt around my arm, and chose a spot by my veins.

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I wanted to feel like this forever.