A Tangled Web We Weave (Completed)

37. Morons, They Messed Up The Drug

Hudson

I sped past the secretary and into the elevator. I practically ran down the few flights of decorative stairs. I tapped my foot in line to return my "Visitor" pass. I took a mental break to flirt with the pretty girl at the front desk. I sprinted through the parking lot, weaving through business men. I slowed to pass a security guard.

Loosening my tie, I opened my car door and slammed it after me. I adjusted the rearview mirror, only to stare at the brick wall behind me. The interview at the TV station for the internship went well, but Ellie had been there as I was coming in. She breezed past me, right past me, close enough to me that she had to have seen me to avoid crashing into me, but she looked straight through me. She just floated by in some orange dress that seemed to float with her. After that, it felt like the interview was a trance and I really wanted to wake up.

I missed her. Desperately. She wasn't speaking to me. She hadn't even spoked to me to break up with me. We just were broken up.

I saw her more now than when we were together. While we were dating, it felt like I could never find her in the halls. But just yesterday, I walked past the auxiliary gym after Weightlifting class and boom. There she was, spinning and dipping and grinding and thrusting and smiling and swaying and everything with her dance partner. And I stood there, like a predatory idiot, and watched her. Or I was at the mall, buying new basketball shoes, and again, she stood by the fountain with her phone up to her ear and she was laughing and then a guy came and put his hands on her waist and I-

See what I mean? Idiot.

Shaking my head, I popped an aspirin and drove to where I knew I could find what I needed.

I pulled between two faded white lines and rolled down my window,

The gold Nissan next to me did as well and my friend, Ray, poked his head out. "Sonny Boy," he crowed. I could barely hear him over his music.

"Roly Poly," I nodded at him. Called that for two reasons: he's plump and he rolls well. If you know what I mean.

"It's been a while, man." He blew out a puff of smoke and smiled. "Got a light?"

I nodded and he passed me the joint. I lit up and we sat there, listening to Russ (who can't make music for shit) and passing the clouds. I handed it back to him

"I don't know what is," I mumbled. 

"Huh?"

"I just feel so empty. Like I'm missing a secret that everyone else knows, but since I don't know it, I keep screwing up and making a fool of myself. You know what I mean?"

"When's the last time you went to a party?"

"I'm being serious."

"So am I. You're focusing too much on a problem that doesn't exist. Just live in the now while you have a now. Before you get a cubicle and only get excited when you see a desk chair that spins. Ok?" Ray passed it back to me.

More Russ and the glowing red end of the joint. Pass. 

"I would kill for Taco Bell right now."

"And that, ladies and gents, is when you know you're zooted," Ray slapped my arm. "Should I roll a second and after that one, we'll get some Taco Bell." At my nod, he rolled up his car window and disappeared for a few minutes.

My phone lit up, I got into his car, and nothing more was said for 30 minutes.

My head thumped against my skull. Admittedly, smoking while hungover was not my wisest idea, but it was too late now. Cal wanted to hang out, but he didn't party anymore, and at my state of mind, the one where it constantly felt like the floor was falling out from under my feet, I needed illegal substances. The boys I knew from the Decauter parties, the best school with the "best" kids whose parties served the best alcohol, invited me to their party. 

I stumbled down the last few stairs into the basement and flicked on a light before promptly hurling on my brother's boots.

"Shit, Hudson," he yelled, shoving me away as he stood up.

"I'm sorry, Ronan," I slurred on my way to the bathroom.

"I leave for a couple weeks-"

"Months. You were gone for months."

He sighed. I could see his hands moving, scrambling to wipe all the vomit off his $700 shoes. Who spends that much on shoes?

"Where were you?" I set the hand towel down on the edge of the sink and sat on the couch across from him.

He shrugged.

I gaped at him. "I haven't seen you for how long and all I get in return for my question of my absentee legal guardian is a goddamn shrug?" I shoved myself out of my seat and stormed back upstairs. That Decauter party was starting to sound pretty nice.