Trust No Bitch: Part 2

Clara Wright

Snow, charlie, chop, cocaine. Whatever you want to call it.

Cleo had loved the stuff. Being with her whilst she was on it was frightening. Like Cleo x10. Her insults had an extra acidic kick to them, her laughter was hyena-like, and anything and everything was free for her to touch and take. She was an entitled young woman anyway, even Clara would admit that, but once she snorted up 1/4 gram of the stuff the whole world and everything in it was as pliable as liquid glass. She thought she owned it, created it even. As if every human it contained were a product of her own design. It had never made Clara feel like that. It had made her feel good, there was no denying that, but then again she wouldn't be shoving a wad of 10s into the dirt-encrusted hand of Rudy Williams for nothing.

"Nice one, Clar." He muttered to her, tipping down the edge of his cap and sloping off into the crowd. Glancing over her shoulder, Clara checked for security before shoving the stuff into her bra. They were nowhere to be seen, however, as was the norm in most clubs in the area, the thickset, balding men intended to be guarding the doors instead stood round the back puffing away on their 5th cigarette of the night. Instead her eyes were drawn to the porcelain skin, tousled dark hair and almost translucent blue eyes of Will Barkley stood in the centre of the throng. His pencil-straight posture, hunched shoulders and widened eyes were incongruous with the slack bodies and thrown-back heads of the people around him.

"Will!" She yelled over the music, shoving stray bodies out the way as she made her way over to him.

"It's too loud! I can't hear myself think!" He cried back, slightly hysterically, Clara wrapping her arms round his neck and laughing.

"You don't come here to think!" She said throatily, breaking away from him. "You come here to get totally fucked up. Lose your mind, William." She spun round, arms raised. "Sometimes it's fun!"

"I can't!

"You definitely can. Come with me." She entwined her fingers in his, dragging him through the crowd, towards the stairs. "Ever done a line of coke before?" She asked, with a sultry smile over her shoulder.

"Uh, no..."

"Well, Will Barkley, you're about to. Welcome to the dark side. I guarantee you'll enjoy your stay." Clara sang, Will shaking his head and opening his mouth to protest, but she spun round and placed a finger on his lips before he could. "Don't be a pussy." She whispered, before pulling him up the stairs with her. "It makes everything fun."

"What if somebody sees?"

"We do it in the toilet."

"What toilets? I can't go in the girls! Everybody at St.Edmunds already thinks I'm a pervert thanks to Cleo, I'll get my balls cut off." The memories burst through the wall into Clara's consciousness, Cleo's twisted smile, her effortless taunts. What had Will told Clara that first day she arrived back at St. Edmunds? That Cleo loved watching people hurt. That she would lick her lips like she could taste it. Like pain was a bloody Flake 99.

"We'll just go in the mens then." Clara said abruptly, hastily shoving the thoughts into the back of her mind.

"Oh yeah, because you're so manly looking."

"For all anybody else knows, I could be stashing the biggest dick in this place inside my knickers." She murmured, Will flushing girlishly, the veins in his neck protruding, his body freezing as if he'd just come face to face with Medusa. "Oh for fuck's sake, Will, I said knickers. Get over it. Now come on!" Clara laughed, throwing the toilet door open and glaring at a perplexed looking boy whose hands immediately sprung to his groin. "I'm not about to sexually assault anyone, we just want to do a line or two in peace, okay?" She snapped at him, rolling her eyes as she emptied the baggie of coke onto the counter. Squinting in concentration, she separated it into 6 thin lines; 4 for herself, and 2 for Will, a first-timer.