Chasing Rainbows

Part Two: Chapter Ninety

                 

Rob's house was packed full, and that was a hard thing to accomplish. People were standing door to door with beers in their hand, and I had yet to find Benn. Breathing, I knew I would have to work my own way through this. Benn deserved to have a wild night. "Kat!" Rob called suddenly, pivoting my attention to him. A strong guitar riff came through the speaks with yet another rock song. "Want a drink?"

"Sure," I smile, realizing that I need to let go as well. The plastic touches my hand, and it immediately goes down.

"I didn't know you could drink," Rob chuckles. "You've always seemed so..."

"So what?"

"Reserved..." A bitter laugh leaves my lungs.

"No, not quite." I pull a small smile before filling my cup up again. "I went through a time."

"Sex, drugs, and drinking?"

"Pretty much," I admit, nodding.  "Everyone goes for it through a couple months, but it stuck for a while."

"How long is the while?" He instigates.

"From fifteen to seventeen. Every night, I'd go out, get shit faced, high on some drug, or both, and end up in bed with some guy the next morning."

"School?"

"I cut class four out of five days."

"Shit, you don't seem like that kind of girl."

"Then I guess I've done a good job." Rob raises his cup, toasting to me, before we both chug the next cup of beer. By the time that I've reached the dance floor, I can't count how many drinks I've had, and I feel like I'm sixteen again.

Getting lost in everything, the alcohol courses through my burning veins, making me feel happy, and my normally upset mind, very clear and, if anything, happy.

In the corner of my eye, I saw a couple of people hunched over a table. Maybe just one hit, I think to myself, smiling at the nostalgia of it. No! You're clean! Something shouts to me internally. "Oh, fuck off," I say out loud, making my way to the table before anyone or anything can talk me out of it. "You wanna hit?" A guy, maybe twenty years old, asks, standing up straight to greet me.

"What do you think?" I ask him, smirking.

"Need some help with lines?"

"Please," I retort sarcastically. The man in from of me smiles wickedly as he watches me make a line. After a hit, I try to bring myself away from the table. But I've had a taste. My judgment is so impaired that any logic I had an hour ago is gone. The pull I feel to the powder is stronger than fucking gravity. I can't take myself away.

Three hits later, the room is spinning. "Hey," The guy chuckles. "You alright?" My head is reeling. My veins are pulsing. I can only think about everything I've stopped myself from having. My walls are gone. I'm a wreck; both physically and emotionally. I'm a fuck up. Anything that could be wrong with a person is what I am.

But I don't answer the boy. I stumble out of the house, hardly feeling anyone that bumps into me; I'm virtually numb. Physical contact does nothing to me. I call the one person that I know will never judge. He'll always be there for me. His voice comes through on the second ring. "Hello? Kat?" He remembered, I think as my mouth turns dry, and my voice cracks massively as I let out a strangled sob.

"Reese?"