Silent Solitude

Chapter 11

After Indigo pulled me into the car, we drove to some club I'd never been to. I lit a joint, ignoring the side-along glance the Indigo passed at me. We'd spent nearly an hour combing through her closet, seeing if there was anything she had that I would willingly wear despite her exclamation of having the perfect outfit, which had been a bluff. Ultimately, I'd settled for a lacey black miniskirt—which I think she may have taken from my closet back in New York—and a black tank top. Indigo dressed up in her usual: white minidress, gold bangles, and gold stilettos. I knew heels were not the move because I could barely walk straight in sneakers, so I slipped on knee-high boots, which again, I do think she may have taken from me.

The air was sticky with humid summer heat and as we walked in, the atmosphere compressed and weighed on my chest in comfortable anxiousness.

This was fine, I told myself. I knew what to do now.

Indigo bought us drinks, orange ones I didn't know the name of. As it burned down my throat, I gave her a grin. It was strong.

"You going to go dance?" she asked, yelling over the loud music. I shrugged but headed to the packed floor anyway. She followed but we lost each other quickly. She shouts that she spotted someone she knew. She jerked her head in the vague direction of her acquaintance, I waved her on, still moving within the crowd of people.

A hand found my waist and my fingers tightened on my drink—though only for a second—before I welcomed the familiar gesture. I would be drunk soon enough.

I didn't understand my words as he flashed something at me, a bag of drugs. An arm went around my shoulders, pulling me in. I didn't stumble but cringed at the sweat clinging to both our bodies. I let him steer me outside, something about smoking indoors being rude.

Scoffing, I handed him cash.

Club etiquette, he said in return.

The music was quieter outside, I could hear myself breathing. Charlie, he told me, his name was Charlie. With impatience, I lit the blunt in his fingers, shaking my head at the coke he held up.

"In a hurry?" he asked, pressing me closer to the wall. His thumb brushed my chin as he placed the blunt onto my lower lip.

"To some degree," I replied, plucking it from his fingers and taking a long drag. He lit his own, the fire from the lighter nearly touching the black hair that veiled half of his face. My drink was forgotten and I tilted my head back against the wall, breathing freely despite the boy barely an inch away from me.

Time passed slower when I smoked, I didn't know when, but when I focused again, Charlie shotgunned smoke from his mouth into mine, slowly putting his lip to my jaw and trailing down the pulse point of my neck. I ignored him, one hand dangling from his shoulder and another moving to take a drag of the cigarette.

"You new in town?" he asked from my neck. I hummed in response. "Friends with Indigo are you? She's hot."

I nodded in agreement, she was hot.

"Feeling it yet?"

I nodded yet again. It was slow, but I felt it. Usually, I needed at least two, but whatever drink Indigo had given me was also giving its desired effect. My thoughts blurred and I spent several minutes talking with Charlie and letting him kiss my neck. He was gentle, didn't push for more, and even gave me a few extra blows of a joint.

His hand ran through my hair, scraping down my neck with light pressure. "You're pretty," he too, was slowly feeling the weed working.

I raised a brow. "Yeah?"

He nodded once, daring to hover his mouth over mine, blowing more smoke into my lungs. "Yeah."

I wrapped a hand around the back of his neck. My throat hitched as he placed a soft kiss on my collarbone. "You're pretty," he repeated, a sound of approval exiting from his lips so close to the top of my chest. He took another drag, eyes fluttering closed.