Page 120 of Ecstasy
What time?I ask Jax.
What am I going to do otherwise? Sit in my room and drink NyQuil until I fall asleep, or until my liver fails me.
Jax:I’ll pick you up in ten?
I smile at my phone in the rain, the quiet campus serene around me.
Me:Make it twenty.
I shove my phone in my back pocket and book it to my apartment.
38
Zara
Jaxand I are the first people there, and I’m glad.
He offers me a drink as soon as we step inside his kitchen, but just before he goes to pour the mixer in, Diet Coke, I shake my head.
“Nah. It’s been a rough few weeks. Give me straight rum.”
Jax eyes me with a little half-smile, scrubs his hand over the back of his neck and shrugs. “All right,” he says lazily, capping the Diet Coke and tossing it back in the fridge.
While he’s busy with that, I just help myself, pouring the rum until it fills up half the cup.
“Yo, chill,” Jax says with a little laugh. “You don’t wanna get sloppy.”
I’m always fucking sloppy.Instead of saying that, I just tip back the cup and drink as much as I can stand before I feel like I might vomit. I slam the cup down, sloshing the contents inside as I wipe the back of my hand over my mouth.
Jax sips his own drink. A beer. He’s much more responsible than I am. “So, you’re really through with that quarterback cock suck?” he asks me calmly, leaning against the kitchen counter.
My stomach burns with the rum and it churns, too, with Jax’s question. He doesn’t know the truth, of course, because I suck at telling the truth. I shrug. “Yeah,” I say, trying to keep the emotion out of my voice. “We’re through.”
Jax lifts up his beer in a ‘cheers’ motion, and I touch my cup to his and drink again. “Good.” He swallows his beer. “Didn’t like that guy.”
I laugh a little, setting my cup back down. I’m already feeling a little tipsy, and I use the counter to hold me up. “You didn’t even know him,” I point out.
Jax shrugs, quirks his mouth to the side. “Yeah, well, fuck ‘em anyway.”
I burst into laughter and take another drink to hide my smile. Fuck it. I might as well finish the entire thing. I don’t really like being awake much nowadays anyway. If I black out, Jax will put me in the spare bedroom and I’ll just drift off into sleep. I finish it off, wincing a little as it burns down my throat, and then start spinning the empty cup on the counter.
“Jax,” I start, swallowing and looking down at my black shoes, “you ever wanna be sober?”
At that moment, the door opens, and I glance over my shoulder as I feel the cool October air rush in.
A couple of guys lift their hands in greeting and I nod.
“Start up the music,” Jax tells the guys. “Make yourself at home. There’s pot on the table.”
The guys give a thumbs up and shuffle off to the living room, closing the door before they do. One catches my eye. He’s got dark blonde hair, dressed all in black. He looks a little older than me, and I’m positive he doesn’t go to Caven. His eyes linger on me a moment before he finally follows his friend into the living room, disappearing from view.
Music starts up in there, but as I turn back to Jax, it kind of fades away. He’s quiet a moment as he stares at me, and the strange silence is almost deafening, even though it isn’t real. Even though the guys are talking in the living room and the music actually gets louder, it still feels silent.
I’ve noticed lately that most things are like that for me. Almost like I’m dissociating from myself.
I wonder if it’s all the drugs. I wonder if I’m making myself schizophrenic or something. I wonder if I’ve just always been like this. I can’t really remember.
“Nah,” Jax finally says, sighing as he does. “I remember what being sober was like. I didn’t feel good in my own skin.”
