Barely Legal (Julian Casablancas)

.::Chapter Thirty-Two||Waging War::.

          "Watch her head!" Janae yelled in a whisper. Julian pulled Holly's torso away from the doorframe of the bedroom, not realizing her head had slumped back during the transition from the hall. Janae had Holly's legs by her knees, struggling to hold on. She was limp—her body like deadweight.

Holly was in and out of consciousness. Janae had warned her sister that drinking on top of ecstasy was probably a bad idea, but Holly insisted that she would be fine.

"I can't- I can't hold her like this." Julian laughed softly, gently lifting his knee to the back of Holly's neck to try and get a better grip on her. He staggered over the pink runner by the door, falling down on his backside. "She's heavier than she looks." Julian quipped. Janae knew this to be true—something about being wasted magically tacked on an invisible thirty pounds to the petite girl.

            "Just try to get her in the bed." Janae let go of Holly's legs, knowing it would be easier for Julian to do it on his own now that they'd made it to near proximity of the mattress. He hooked his arms under Holly's, causing her arms to extend outward—the sight comical.

Janae would've been eager to help more had she not blamed Julian for Holly's current predicament. She was amazed that Julian seemed normal; at least, for the most part. He was clearly high on a stimulant, but the way he spoke was fluent.

Julian dragged Holly toward the edge of the bed, sitting on the mattress first as he struggled to lift her up. His lips were not visible under the strain of the grapple. Julian rolled Holly on her side, somewhat out of breath as he covered her with the duvet.

Julian took a moment for himself—sitting on the edge of the bed, slightly winded.

          "Now what?" Julian's voice broke through the silence, causing a smile to pull at her lips.

"How long does that stuff last?"

"Three to five hours, in my experience." Julian looked down at Holly. She was snoring softly—mouth open. "This isn't E, this is just shit-faced."

           Janae sighed in defeat, wishing she had been able to talk some sense into her sister before the multiple rounds of cocktails.

"I don't know what to do now. I can't just leave her here but I can't just watch her sleep for the next twelve hours."

"Can't you just get Tiffany to keep an eye on her?" Julian suggested.

"She hates me. I don't blame her, I'd hate me too." Janae started toward the bed, sitting beside the empty space next to Julian.

            His arm slung over her shoulders—his fingers picking at the stitching of her jacket. "She doesn't hate you. I think she thinks you hate her."

Janae's head turned slowly, looking up at Julian with questioning eyes. "You know...don't you?"

          Julian sighed, flashing a look of defeat. His arm remained draped over her shoulders—his body slumping without a care in the world. "I don't wanna get involved- it's none of my business."

"You're my boyfriend, so technically, it is your business." Janae stood from the bed, causing Julian's arm to fall from the swift emptiness beside him.

"Baby don't- don't be mad. I wasn't even sure if it was true or not."

           "How long have you known?"

"I don't know, how long have you and Tiffany been giving each other the silent treatment?"

It had been over a month—just over four weeks. Janae wondered how long Albert had known. She recalled him wanting to speak to Julian privately; but the only reason she remembered that was because it was the same night she'd discovered the self portrait Julian's ex-girlfriend had sketched for him. It was also the first time she'd trusted him enough to have sex without protection.