Page 5 of Lies and Other Drugs

“Why are you here?” he asked. It was an easy enough question, one I had a million answers for. I was here to avenge my brother. I was here to dig up the secrets covering his death. I was here to find peace or lose myself. All the little reasons just piled up on my chest in this angry ball of anxiety that made me want to scream.

“Do I have to have a reason?” I asked, deciding to be vague and frustrating.

Samuel’s eyes widened, and I suddenly felt like a challenge he wanted to beat. “No, I guess you don’t. But something tells me you do. Would William—”

“Don’t you fucking ask me what William would want. It’s hard to want things from the grave, don’t you think?” I asked, raising my voice. The wind was really blowing now, rendering the umbrella useless as drops fell horizontally.

“I’m just trying to help…” Samuel said. I wondered then if anyone had ever turned Samuel Smith down. Was he used to disappointment?

“That’s the thing about entitlement, Samuel. It makes you think peoplewantyour help. It makes you think your help is something people should fall over themselves for. Talk and condolences don’t mean shit."

“Wow,” Samuel began. There was a raindrop dangerously close to his lip that had me licking mine. Attraction was a fickle thing, didn’t give a damn about vengeance or reasons or suicide notes. “You’re quite the optimist. Just a hopeless romantic? A ball of happiness and light?” he joked, like my words hadn’t affected him. Putting me down and belittling my personality made him feel better about his fragile ego. “Let me walk you home."

"I don't necessarily feel comfortable walking to my home with a stranger. Especially not a stranger involved in my brother's death. You can tell Nathaniel I don't need a watchdog. If he thinks he can bully me into leaving, he's got another thing coming." If I were being honest, walking home with Samuel didn’t scare me. If he wanted to spend thirty minutes in awkward hate silence, then who was I to stop him? But something told me that my refusal made him more uncomfortable than a brisk walk in the rain.

Samuel gazed into my eyes as if trying to understand me better. He had a quizzical look about his face that made me pause. Did he genuinely think Nathaniel had good intentions? Did he genuinely think I came here for closure?

"Nathaniel isn’t trying to bully you into leaving," he said. "He, uh, just wants to make sure you're okay." My knee-jerk reaction was to disagree, but arguing with a pretty boy in the rain seemed pointless. Besides, he somewhat made sense. Guilt was a powerful thing. It made heartless assholes like Nathaniel Youngblood pretend to have a conscience. “I’ve known him my whole life. He’s not a bad guy. Do you, like, blame him or something?” Samuel was trying to work out my existence here in his perfect little life. I saw it in his questioning expression.

I scoffed. "I bet you say that to all the families he’s destroyed,” I replied in a sickly sweet voice. “I don't need a bodyguard. And I sure as hell don't need your pity. You can tell Youngblood to just wrap that guilt of his up around his neck and suffocate on it. I'll see you guys around though, don't you worry." I intended to spin around and leave once more, using the three acting classes I took my freshman year to spur me forward, but his hand on my elbow remained firm. I didn't like that he was touching me. I didn't like how assuming he was. Jerking out of his grip, I didn't spare him another glance as I stomped down the street towards my and Mrs. Mulberry's apartment.

Mrs. Mulberry was asleep on the couch when I got home. It was another one of her routines. She'd start making herself lunch, forget that she was hungry, then sit down to watch TV. There was nothing ever good on because we couldn't afford cable, so naturally, she would fall asleep to the boring sounds of whatever talk show host was on at three o’clock during the week. I'd come to appreciate her loud snores in the living room. They were the soundtrack to my stalking routine.

After work, I usually took a nap then researched Pike house. I researched my brother’s professors. His classmates. I knew everything there was to know about his schedule, his routine, and the fraternity he’d joined as a legacy. I spent hours checking the event schedules and corporate sponsorships. Blackwood University was a multibillion-dollar enterprise; it had more money and access to powerful people than the President. I knew where the university president lived and where his wife liked to take her yoga class. I also knew that anyone with money or power sent their kids to Blackwood.

After changing out of my work outfit, I put on some yoga pants and a tank top before plopping on my double bed. My room was modest in size, but the window had a pretty enough view of the brick building next door. A family lived there, and the two daughters sat on the balcony chatting and brushing their dolls’ hair. The innocent normalcy reminded me to keep focused.

I needed a nap and had a list of things I wanted to look into before attending another party tonight. My plan was in motion, and now that they knew I was here, there was no time to waste. But before I could allow myself to sleep, I had one last thing to do.

Unlocking my phone, I clicked on the last voicemail my brother ever sent me. It was the one piece of evidence I had that Youngblood murdered him. And no matter how many times I listened to it, his voice always shocked me. I missed my brother. It didn’t matter that I’d constructed a strong backbone to deal with all of this; whenever the voicemail played, I cried.

“Hey, Tav,” his voice was deeper than usual but still purely his. I swiped away a stray tear while smiling at his nickname for me. He was the only one that ever called me Tav. Mom hated it. She said it made us sound cheap. I never understood why sounding cheap was a bad thing.

“Damn, I miss you, sis. I should’ve never let Liam talk me into coming here. I should be somewhere on the beach with you, not at this fucked up university.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, imagining what our life would’ve been like had he followed me elsewhere. We’d probably be sitting on the beach somewhere, looking at the waves and ignoring our mother’s calls. We’d never been separated before, but after high school, we found ourselves on completely opposite sides of the country. Bad things always happened when we were away from one another. Like in third grade when he missed the bus and got beat up.

William let out a slow sigh before continuing, “I know you’re probably preparing for your gallery showing, but I just needed to talk to you. There’s been a lot of shit I haven’t told you about, and I don’t know what to do. There’s this guy, Youngblood...Na-Nathaniel Youngblood…” William’s voice was shaky as he said Nathaniel’s name, as if he were too scared or too sad to speak it out loud. “He is…I need to stay away from him, but it’s fucking impossible. He’s everywhere.”

A voice in the background called William over, and he answered them. “I gotta go. But I need you, Tav. Maybe I can come visit next weekend? Right now, I feel like if I don’t get away from him, I’ll die. Love you. Hope you’re kicking ass out there.”

My tears felt like anvils now. They always did when he ended the recording. It was never enough. I needed more from William. “Love you, too,” I whispered before tossing the phone on my bed and crying.

Chapter 4

Networking events were crucial for students at Blackwood University. What use was power and money if you couldn’t rub it in other people’s faces? It was like one gigantic orgy. They got off on comparing wallet sizes then used their checkbooks to wipe the cum from their stomachs.

Tonight’s event was a charity fundraiser hosted by the Pike house. You could tell a lot about a person by how they organized a charity. Modest affairs usually had the best intentions. The bigger the event, the more fake it was. You could practically smell the arrogance in the air. Tonight was a kissing auction. In a couple of hours, Pike members would stand on stage while women bid for kisses. They acted like eligible bachelors, worthy of every dime, and winners got to claim their prize in a drunken display of swapping spit and cheers.

My brother told me about it our freshmen year. Apparently, the woman that won a kiss from him reeked of garlic and whiskey. She was sloppy and horny and tried undressing him on stage. I distinctly remember him saying that it was one of the most humiliating moments of his life. I wanted to march here and give everyone a piece of my mind, but he insisted that I didn’t say or do anything. He’d always hated how I fought his battles for him. I bet if he could see me now, he’d finally follow through on his threat to disown me.

I was wearing a long evening gown I’d found in the back of Mrs. Mulberry's closet. It wasallblack andallelegant. The vintage number had a modest neckline, but it revealed my back, dipping so low that I almost looked naked from behind. My favorite part was the slit up the thigh, and if I’d cared about dating or men, I’d feel sexy tonight. There was a time that I would have swayed my hips as I walked. Maybe even find a hot guy to walk me home and fuck me senseless. But I wasn’t really on the market. Even if it was a one night stand, I didn’t need the distraction.

I was standing alone in the banquet hall with my arms crossed over my chest. I took in the scenery, wondering what my brother thought when he’d first arrived here three years ago. He would have loved the stage. It was beautiful, perfect for throwing parties. William had always loved pretty things. Probably becausehewas pretty. He once told me that he was thankful he had a twin because it made the narcissism socially acceptable. Whenever William was feeling handsome, he’d just compliment me. I guess we were taught from a young age that people frowned upon loving yourself.

The music wasn’t loud, which made it easy to listen in on what people were saying. I was scouting out secrets, observing everyone and doing my best to blend in. In thirty minutes, I’d learned of two girls claiming to have fucked Youngblood last night. They were lying. If I hadn’t been hell-bent on destroying the asshole, I might’ve felt sorry for him. No one deserved to be a prized fuck.

“So are you going to start showing up to every event I’m at?” Youngblood asked to my left. I took a small moment to settle myself and sip the fruity non-alcoholic punch in my hand before turning to face him.

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