Honey Lips

{fourteen}

"Diamonds unthawed, comin' in froze
Got too many girls to let one of them go
When I make a purchase, I can't wait to showboat
If she bad, I put a pinky ring on, snow globe"

     By the end of the fourth shot I'm completely hammered. I've never had a sip of alcohol in my life. Sabrina kept telling me I'm such a lightweight. I don't know when, nor how, but we both ended up on the dance floor. Couples danced together erotically, their bodies leaving no space between as they were letting loose. The speakers blare Rae Sremmurds' Powerglide while Sabrina and I sway our hips to the beat. She grabs my hands and dances with me, encouraging me. I giggle and throw my head back.

      Strobe lights mixed with my buzz make the whole building spin. I feel my feet stumble but Sabrina keeps me up. That girl can definitely hold her liquor.

      "See," She screams. "Isn't this fun!"

     "Yes!" I shout and sway my whole body. We spend a whole four songs on the dance floor before she pulls me out of the sea of sweaty bodies. We head back to the bar.

      "A water please? This girl definitely needs it."

      I don't say anything, just nod and close my eyes. My body involuntarily sways to a song by Migos that I couldn't remember. The bartender hands me the water bottle and I raise it towards him as a thank you. I screw off the cap and take a generous sip. My dry mouth moistens and I can finally swallow.      "Better?" Sabrina asks. I nod and smirk at the sight behind her.

      "Be careful Sabrina," I slur. "That man behind you is giving you hungry eyes." I mocked my eyes to the mans and she laughed. Sabrina turned around and sent a flirtatious wave in the direction of the man. He smiles and gestured with his index finger to come. She looks back over to me, almost like asking for permission. "Go, Sabrina. But please, for the love of God, use protection. Because if I see any little Sabrina's cooking up in that oven," I hiccup and point a finger at my chest. "I'm gonna find his social security and become a spy so I can find him and make him miserable!"

      I don't know what I'm saying, nor why I'm saying it, all I know is that it made Sabrina laugh like a hyena . . . with two heads. I shake my head, which was a mistake due to the fact that I'm dizzy. It was as if the temperature just increased and the sun was scorching me alive.

     I turn on my heel and teeter out of the building, muttering forgotten sorry's to everyone I ran into, and finally made it outside. The cool December air hit my sticky skin and I sighed in content. Leaning against the wall I take another sip of water, then another, and another until the whole bottle just disappeared. The funky buzz was slowly but surely simmering down.

     "Lydia? Is that you?" I turn my head to the right. Out of all the people I know, it has to be Mr. Kutcher that struts down the sidewalk. "What are you doing here?"

     "I could ask you the same question," I finish my sentence with a hiccup.

     "Are you drunk?"

     I scrunch up my nose and look around for a second before scratching my head. "I . . . think so." Then I giggle, and hiccup again.

      Mr. Kutcher takes a few more steps towards me before he's at arms length. His gray eyes travel up and down my body, and if I wasn't drunk, I would've noticed that he was shamelessly checking me out. He's always been a creep, I was just too naive to notice. All the times he complimented my outfit, to when he would caress my forearm out of the blue. Even when he would observe my actions. Every. Single. One. But yet, the nausea and disorientation was enough for me to ignore the fact that he was standing right in front of me, taking small little steps closer.    

     He smirks while digging in his pocket. "Damn, you look hot." He pulls out a box of cigarettes and lights one between his lips. I cough when he exhales smoke in my direction.

      "What?" I ask. Did he, my teacher, just call me hot? Was that even allowed?!

     "Oh, come on Lydia. You're beautiful and you know you are," He takes another drag from his cigarette. "You have no idea how hard it is to control myself when you work next to me. I bet you," he drops the cigarette to the concrete and walks closer. "I could make that little flower between your legs soak with the fantasies I have of you bent over my desk."

     I may not be sober, but I'm sober enough to know that I'm in a bad situation. My subconscious is screaming at me to turn around and go find Sabrina. Yet, my numb body is no avail. So I watch in horror as he grabs my hand and leads me down the dark alley Sabrina and I originally entered. He pushes me up against the wall so hard a throbbing pain shoots through my back.

      He gravitates closer till his face is only an inch away. I can practically taste the previous cigarette on his breath. "Ever since you walked into that detention room I haven't been able to keep my eyes off you."

     It's now when my body comes back to life. I struggle against his hold but he thrusts me back into the brick wall. "I could make you scream my name till your voice is non existent, till every resident in Roseville knows my name."

     I scream and tears pool out of my eyes. A sudden sting tingles my cheek. It was lightning quick. I raise my hand and touch my cheek. Did he just slap me? Better yet, my lip busted. The metallic liquid graced my tongue and I screamed.

      "Shh," he places his index finger on my lips. "Save your voice for when I'm ravishing you."

      And just as his lips moved to meet mine, he's gone. I close my eyes and welcome the emptiness with open arms. When I reopened them, there was Mr. Kutcher lying in the ground with blood pooling from his nostrils and mouth.

      I hear the masculine voice, and feel his gentle touch, but it seems so distant. My vision is blurry and my muscles feel light as a cloud. Again and again the muffled voice yells for me, but I just . . . can't!

     And just before the darkness consumes me, I hear it. "Princesa! Stay awake!"

♪ — Powerglide by Rae Sremmurd