Page 19 of The Love of My Next Life
“Don’t tell me we have to hop the fence.”
Claire doesn’t respond. She just surveys the fence until she finds what she’s looking for. Without talking, she marches up to a section of chain-link, crouches down, and pulls it up, creating a four-foot hole.
“In you go,” she says flatly. I stare at her blankly. No way in hell does she expect me to crawl through that hole. I’m not breaking and entering. I’m not going to freaking jail. I tighten my lips and shake my head no. She sighs, then wordlessly turns and crawls through the hole herself.
Great. Now I’m a bad friend.
Freaking Macon.
I sulk up to the fence, pull up the broken section, and crawl under, getting my knees and feet and pajamas filthy with dirt. I jog to catch up with Claire as she makes her way to a big building. It’s usually the livestock barn when the fair is here, but instead of going inside, she weaves her way around the back. The muffled voices grow louder and louder until we run almost smack into a group of Macon’s friends.
The bad kids, basically.
Chris Casper, the guy Claire was on the phone with, spots us immediately and hurries toward us.
“Hey,” he says quickly, “follow me.”
He turns and leads us to another, smaller building, and then behind it, where we find Julian, kneeling on the ground next to Macon.
Macon, who has a bloody lip and a bruised cheek, and is currently lying in the dirt. The whole area smells strongly of vomit and weed, and I choke back the reflex to gag.
“What the fuck is he on?” Claire asks, putting her hands on her hips and staring daggers at Macon. At her voice, he opens his eyes and tries to focus on us, then lets out a slow gurgling laugh. The sound makes my skin crawl, and I wrap my arms around my torso to try to avoid shaking.
“Fuck off, Claire,” he slurs. “Get the fuck outta here.”
“Just beer and weed,” Julian pipes up, answering Claire’s question, but she shakes her head.
“It’s never just beer and weed anymore,” she says, and my head jolts back.
“What?” I say, bouncing my eyes between Claire and Julian, then Macon. “What do you mean ‘it’s never just beer and weed’?” They ignore me.
“It was this time,” Casper says. “I swear. I was fucking watching him.”
Macon groans and curls into the fetal position just as Sam creeps around the corner. Claire catches sight of her and juts out her finger, pointing right at her face.
“You,” she growls. “What the fuck did you give him?”
“Nothing he didn’t want,” she snarks back. Macon groans again, then laughs.
“Nothing I didn’t want, Claire,” he spits out.
“You’re so fucking stupid, Macon,” Claire says, disgust dripping from every syllable, and Macon laughs. He just keeps laughing and groaning, alternating between the two. It’s such a disturbing sound that it makes me want to cry, but Claire stomps up to him and kicks him hard in the shoulder. He coughs out a laugh.
“Chill, Claire,”Julian says, and I step forward.
“C’mon, Claire.” I put my hand on her shoulder. “Let’s just get him home.”
Claire shrugs off my hand and kicks Macon again, harder this time, and he grunts, rolling his face into the dirt. He mumbles something that sounds likeleave me the fuck alone,and Claire lets out a sardonic, hollow laugh.
“Next time, do us all a favor and OD,” she hisses, and my jaw drops.
“Claire,” I gasp, but she doesn’t even look at me. Instead, she looks at Casper. “I’m taking your truck. I’m not letting him puke in my car. Sober the fuck up and bring my car to me in the morning.”
She tosses Casper her keys, and he does the same, not even bothering to argue, then she just turns and walks away.
“She’s such a fucking bitch,” Macon says into the dirt.
“I know, man.” Julian grunts as he uses Macon’s floppy, useless arm to try and hoist him over his shoulder. He manages to get Macon in a fireman-type carry and slowly starts in the direction Claire stormed off. “Fuck, you gotta lay off the brownies, bro.”
