Toxic (Better Than You) (5 page)

             
It’s harder to drink it straight out of the bottle, but I don’t come up for a breath for a good three seconds and only when I slam the bottle on the counter do I realize that everyone is watching. As soon as I meet their eyes, breathing hard and trying even harder to keep it all down, they raise their hands in a victory cry because we all know how disgusting cheap vodka is.

             
“Dance!” I scream towards Sam, and she grabs my hand without question and squeezes us back onto the makeshift dance floor.

             
When Sam and I first met, she was this shy, doe-eyed little girl who I later found out came from a world similar to mine. We were kindred spirits, Sam and I, with our drug addicted, negligent parents, the only difference being that it’s her dad and she has a brother. Sometimes we joke about introducing our parents to each other because obviously they would have a lot in common, but we both know it’s a bad idea. There’d be enough toxicity in that fucked up family to kill us all.

             
Eventually Sam became comfortable around us and at her new school, and it wasn’t hard to see that she was beautiful. So instead of noticing that her clothes were ragged and hand-me-downs, the boys only noticed that they were half gone. The teachers looked the other way because she was a good student and what’s the point of pushing the issue further? When I finally came around to embracing the life I was given, I joined Sam in her half-naked endeavors. And as it turns out, it works out pretty well.

             
Except when I’m dancing. And drunk. Because then the tiny, dark blue dress slides up way too high and god knows I’m not a whore. Not yet anyways.

             
“I have to pee!” I tell Sam. She just nods her head so I wobble through the crowd on my own, not even stopping to think about our buddy system promise.

             
It seems like way too long before I reach the hallway that leads to the bathroom. Feet cramping, I admit defeat and slip off the four inch heels. And then I laugh because they feel so much better already and I seriously hate wearing them. And dresses. I hate dresses.

             
I open two doors before I find the bathroom, even though I’ve been here a million times. The lights are off
. I can’t find the switch. There it is
. Shoes on the counter, don’t even have to pull my dress up to pee.
Probably means it’s too short
. Sitting down makes my head spin. The alcohol slams into me all of the sudden.
How many shots have I had? I can’t even remember. It was probably too many
.

             
Standing up, I situate myself and look into the mirror. Even though I’m drunk, really drunk, I have enough sense to wipe the mascara from under my eyes and fluff out my dark hair.
Not bad
. When I was younger, I would have given anything for light hair and skin like Melissa’s, but now I know that while she reminded people of the sun, I remind them of the dark and that’s perfectly okay with me. It’s better that way.

             
Before I even have the door open to leave the bathroom, I turn off the light. It’s so dark I can’t even see my hands but I stand there for a few seconds and breathe, let myself feel the alcohol taking over my senses. In this dark, it feels like I’m floating, or like I don’t exist outside of my own head. It’s a scary thing to think about, wondering if I even exist at all. When I throw open the door and rush out, I run straight into a warm body.

             
“Woah there,” a guy’s voice says as he grips my upper arms to steady me.

             
Those two words, that touch, it makes me tense up. Even in my drunken state, I hate that voice and I hate that touch. I have since kindergarten, when I was too young and naïve to understand that it’s better to stay away from boys like him.

             
“Lo? Is that you?” He grabs my chin harshly and thrusts my face up into the light of the hallway. “Well I’ll be damned.”

             
“Fuck off, Danny,” I say, trying desperately to keep my voice steady. But his hands are making me nervous and the alcohol is trying to come back up and it’s all I can do to stay upright. To him it probably seems like I’m leaning into him. To anyone else it looks intimate. But it’s not.
It’s not!
I want to yell at the couple down the hall, leaning against the wall. The guy sends smirk at Danny and the girls giggles into the smirking guy’s chest.

             
“How convenient is this?” Danny breathes into my ear.

             
I don’t know what girls see in him, in his cold, dark eyes or his evil smile. Yes, he’s good looking, with straight features, hair as dark as night and eyes to match, lips that always look freshly kissed. But he’s slimy and greedy and he’s looked at me like a piece of meat for as long as I can remember.

             
I try to push off of his chest, but he keeps me firm against him. “Sam will come looking for me.”

             
Danny laughs but it doesn’t sound anything like a laugh is supposed to. “Sam? You mean the slut out back with two guys? Yeah, she seemed kinda busy.”

             
Then he’s dragging me, to Vito’s parents’ room at the end of the hall, where no one will see us or hear us or know we exist. I make my body heavy, but he’s stronger and bigger and I’m not ready for this. There’s too much alcohol in my system. Too much liquid sloshing around in my stomach. Maybe I’ll turn to liquid. Maybe my heart will melt and then I’ll die and never find out what’s about to happen.

             
Danny stops dragging me and pulls me up against his body, his muscles straining against the sleeves of his shirt. “This will be a lot easier for both of us if you just stop fighting,” he says through gritted teeth.

             
His words reach me, into my sludge filled brain and heavy heart and I know he’s right. When I stopped fighting Mom, life got easier. When I stopped trying to pretend like I was better than her, than us, everything stopped hurting. Maybe this is just part of what I deserve. Part of the life I was given.

             
When Danny pushes me into the room and slams the door closed, letting go of me for just a little, I stand there, still as a board. When he throws me onto the bed and pulls my dress up, the only movement from my body are the tears falling down my temples, into my hair, wetting the bed. The only thought I have is that I would give anything,
anything
, to be numb.

             
“Good girl,” he says as he pushes into me.

August 14, 2005

             
Danny fixes my dress and smoothes my hair before placing a rough kiss to my temple. “You were willing, right Lo?”

             
I don’t say anything, just nod. I’m afraid to speak because the need to cry is so strong that opening my mouth will let out a flood I won’t be able to stop. And I’ll be damned if I cry in front of Danny.

             
“Good girl,” he hisses into my ear.

             
Then we walk out of the room, his arm around my shoulders. It’s heavy, like it’s bonding to my skin, creating a barrier around me that keeps everyone away. The party’s still going, the music loud and the voices louder, even though it’s gotta be almost three in the morning. My eyes dart from person to person, searching for blonde hair, but I don’t see Sam anywhere. I don’t know where she could be and all I want is to find her and go home and never, ever-

“Has anyone seen Lo?!”
I hear Sam scream, and then I see her pushing through the crowd, knocking girls over and not caring that they send dirty looks her way.

             
I go to move towards her but Danny tightens his grip on me, not enough that anyone notices he’s holding me against my will, but enough to let me know that I’m not going anywhere. “Let her come here,” he orders, and I listen, because what else can I do? Fight him? Cause a scene? He’s so much stronger than me and there are so many worse things he can do to me if I disobey.

             
Sam finally reaches us and stops in her tracks, her eyes darting from my face to the arm around my shoulders. “You fucking bastard!” she screams as she charges Danny. “What are you doing touching her?” Her tiny little hands push into his chest but he barely moves, only laughs at her attempts to manhandle him.

             
And then he turns to me, slides the tip of his nose along the side of my neck. “She wants me touching her. Right, Lo?” His eyes meet mine and hold them, daring me to deny what he’s saying. I get it. I understand what all of this means. I’m his now.

“It’s fine, Sam,
” I say as I drop my eyes to the ground. If Sam looks into them, she’ll see the tears, the fear, how Danny just broke me and there’s no going back.

             
Sam takes a step closer. “The hell it is! Lo, what are you
doing
?” she asks me, sounding a little desperate. It hurts my heart because she knows how much I hate Danny, but the cards have been dealt and I’m stuck with this hand. I know that now.

Taking a deep breath, I meet her worried eyes. Slide my arms around Danny’s waist and hold
down the urge to throw up in his face. “It’s
fine
, Sam.”

             
She looks at both of us, her eyes going back and forth, back and forth, trying to understand but obviously not getting it. Finally she lets out a huff and throws her hands up in the air. “Whatever. Are you ready to get out of here?”

             
“Yeah,” I say calmly, even though what I really want to do is run out of the house, away from all of these people and this city and this life and never come back.

             
Sam grabs my arm and shoots a look at Danny, who whispers into my ear, “Remember,” before letting go. But how could I ever forget?

“I have to take Sophia home,” Sam tells me as she pulls me towards the door. “She’s waiting in the car.”

I sigh, because I can’t stand Sophia. Sam’s got a soft spot for the overly talkative girl who lives down the street from her, but they’re not friends, not really. Sam and I are the only friends we have. Luckily, Sophia’s passed out in the backseat so there’ll be no talking from her. Which is great, because I know I can’t handle it right now. I don’t know how I’m handling even being alive right now.

Sam starts the car and somehow pulls out of the overly crowded street. As the streetlamps rush by, I count them. Anything to keep my mind off of Danny and his whispers and touches. But without even realizing it, I’m crying, warms tears trailing down my cheeks.

“What happened, Lo?” Sam asks softly, which makes me cry harder. I don’t answer, though, because what can I say? I drank too much, I walked away from Sam, I didn’t fight. It’s all my fault anyways.

With that truth sitting heavy in my stomach I turn to meet her worried eyes. She’s looking at me instead of the road and even through everything that’s happened tonight, I know that’s dangerous, but just as I’m about to say something
, chaos and pain hits me hard. There’s the sound of tires screeching, of metal screaming, of glass shattering. Then there’s nothing but the hiss of steam and the sounds of life in the distance. Just when I thought my ears would explode from the noise, it’s all over and then the silence is suffocating me. I can’t move. I can’t breathe. It hurts to think.

“Lo?” Sam’s frantic voice calls, but instead of sounding like she’s right next to me, it sounds like she’s a mile away.

Minutes pass, maybe hours, who really knows, before I can move my head and I turn it sideways to see Sam covered in blood. There’s no airbag surrounding her like I expected. “Sam!” I whisper yell.

Her hands are by her side, shaking so bad I can hear her jewelry clanging against each other. “You have to help me,” she says to me.

“Sam, everything’s going to be okay. We need to call 911,” I say as I start to sit up to look for my purse. I know it’s on the floor somewhere but the car is smashed in and everything hurts so much and-

“Not yet, Lo. We’ve been drinking…”

I stop moving. Think about what she just said. She doesn’t finish her sentence, but I understand what she’s saying. They’ll get her with a DUI. It’ll ruin her life. But what other choices do we have? I look across at the other car and see a man slumped over in his seat
. Is he dead?
I can’t take my eyes off of him, off of his car that doesn’t even look like a car. The street light above us turns green and shines off of the one intact window. It’s still so quiet. “What do we do, Sam?” I whisper.

“Help me get Sophia up front.”

Just like that, Sam has my attention. I turn in my seat to meet her eyes. See the fear there; the way her chin is trembling and her nostrils are flared from breathing so hard.
Is she serious?
I think she’s serious. Sophia’s life will be over. We’ll have this huge secret on our hands for the rest of our lives. Can I live with that? Can I live with myself if I don’t help Sam, my only friend? I don’t know what else to do, so I help Sam move Sophia into the driver’s seat. It takes a couple of tries to get the door open and to get Sophia out, but we finally do it, both of us shaking from exhaustion and pain. Sophia doesn’t even move.