𝒓𝒉𝒚𝒔
Despite Eli clearly being drunk as hell during our phone call a couple of days ago, he apparently remembered what he said about the Ikea cups. I don't know the logic behind it, but drinking out of a pink plastic cup makes me drink a lot more and now I'm fucking dizzy. So fucking dizzy. More dizzy than I was before all those times I fainted.
Somehow, we worked our way through four pizzas and I'm pretty sure we've eaten a hell of a lot more than that. There's chips bags and wine bottles on the floor of Eli's room. His parents have come home and the sun has gone down and all I want to do is lie on the floor and wait for the vomit to come by itself, but I know I can't do that and I know I should be talking to Owen, I said I'd be with him and grandma at five and it's way later now.
I never hated Eli's mom but I never particularly liked her either and I don't think she liked me. If she walks in and sees us laughing at nothing and stuffing food in our mouths, she's not exactly going to like me more.
Fuck that though. Eli and I aren't together and we'll never be. Who cares about her opinion? Who cares about Owen and grandma, worried, calling and texting? Who cares?
My grandpa sure didn't.
I stop chewing, watching Eli chewing and swallowing it down with wine and repeating it over and over again. My heart drops. Did I do this to him? Infect him with my eating disorder?
I've tried to hard to keep Noah away from binging and purging. I never thought about Eli.
I leave that thought a moment later and go back to eating some chocolate. Its taste is slightly off, not in a mold kind of way but just... yeah, not the type of thing a normal person who could deal with a death of someone by crying in their pillow would eat. Just the type of thing an abnormal person who can't do that would.
"Does it taste better in a pink cup?" Eli asks.
I hand him my cup. Guess we've kissed enough times that drinking out of the same cup matters.
Weird, isn't it, how the only people I even think about sharing a cup with are Eli and Noah. With Aiden or Connor I just do, we're friends, we're close, we can do that. Eli and Noah apparently need some justification. Or maybe I just start thinking about it when I think about sharing a cup. Maybe I like them both and I avoid thinking about things like their eyes or their freckles or the way they move or their lips.
Their fucking lips. Man. Both have these full lips that are impossible to tear your eyes away from, and when you kiss them and feel the way they feel against yours you never want to stop. Noah's have a more basic, defined shape, Eli's have a softer shape, and his upper lip is bigger than his lower. That's what made me realise that lips are special.
I want to kiss him.
Noah or Eli? I don't know anymore. Both. Not at the same time. That feels demeaning. That will break them down more than I've already been doing by loving them both at the same time.
Noah. It's Noah I want.
We're not away anymore, we're not alone, Eli's accessible again, but I still want Noah. I want us to fuck real fucking good and then I want to sleep on his chest or lap until the feeling of permanence leaves.
"It tastes better in pink," Eli says. I can't tell if his usually calm and quiet voice is raised because he drank, or to snap me out of my thoughts. "We should've invited Aiden. I want weed."
He reaches the cup back.
"You can have it," I say. "Maybe I'll like blue better."
Eli shakes his head. "It's yours."
