by Dylan Heart
“If we’re counting each other, then I’ve got two vices.”
“What if I want two?” I ask, unable to draw my eyes away from my own hand, so close to his heart. Only skin separates us.
“Then pick up smoking,” he suggests, jokingly.
“I’m serious.” I pull away and peer into his eyes. I say nothing more, hoping he’ll get the hint so that I don’t have to say it out loud.
“I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.” He smiles, but I know that he’s confused.
“I want to go to the edge with you.”
His face distorts, the realization sinking in. “I’m not gonna force you—”
“No force necessary.”
Chapter Fifteen
His arm passes over my shoulder, his palm pressed against the tree. Behind us, the carnival is in full, chaotic swing. He takes an extended glance over his shoulder, then back to me. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“I’m not one hundred percent sure, no, but I’m sure enough that I won’t accuse you of drugging me if things go south.” I smile.
He scratches his neck nervously. “I just don’t want this to change things between us.”
“You know what changes things between people? Sex. And we’ve been there, done that, and I’m still falling head over heels for you. It’s fine. I’m young and stupid, and I want to try new things.”
“Like Molly?”
I shrug my shoulders. “Everybody else is doing it.” I can’t help but grin. I’ve never been one to blame peer pressure for anything, but in the worst case scenario, I could easily blame my peers.
Blue reaches into his pocket and pulls out a baggie. The sight of the packed white powder makes me nervous at first, and paranoia follows within seconds. My eyes dart between everything behind Blue, and then to my side as I scan for signs of wandering life.
“Are you sure you want—”
I cut him off. “If you ask me that one more time, I’m going to kick your ass. But I don’t feel comfortable doing it here. Let’s go somewhere else.”
If you had asked me when I was younger, say thirteen years old, where I would be the first time I tried drugs, the answer wouldn’t have been in a carnival bathroom. A friend’s house, probably in their basement, would have been my first choice. The school bathroom? You do stupid things like that when you’re young, so why not.
Even though we’re not in a stall, it’s still gross. It reeks, as you would expect a communal toilet to smell. Blue’s emptied the baggie full of Molly onto his driver’s license, which looks nothing like him, and uses my debit card to separate the drug into two lines. I’m really about to pass go and keep going, skipping right over marijuana and straight into the hard stuff.
Two bubbly teenagers—probably the same ones who boarded the tea cups with us all those weeks ago—walk into the bathroom. Blue pushes me into the stall and shuts the door gently before they have the opportunity to spot us. I bring a fist to my nose, trying to block the smell of an unflushed toilet.
“Can you believe that weirdo?” one girl asks the other.
“There’s a reason he’s a carnie. He’s gross and weird, probably can’t get a job anywhere else,” the other girl replies, followed by a smack of her gum so loud that I could fly out of this stall and smack her upside her head. Blue stands in front of me, blocking my exit, so that fantasy most likely will not come to pass.
“Gimme a dollar,” Blue whispers.
“For what? I’m not paying you.”
His eyes lock with mine. “To snort it.” He grimaces. “That sounds so stupid. I hate that word.”
“Yeah, me, too.” I dig into my pocket and pull out a wad of cash. There’s no dollar bills, just twenties. “This is all I’ve got.”
“That’ll work.” He rips the twenty out of my hand.
“No,” I protest, a little too loud. Blue puts his hand up to me, the one holding the currency.
“Is somebody in here?” one of the pubescent teens calls out.
“No,” I yell back and snatch the twenty out of Blue’s hand. “I need this.”
“You can still use it. Molly residue doesn’t make it worthless.”
“No, it just makes it paraphernalia.”
“You need to relax.” He steals the bill from my fingers again.
“I think there’s a boy in there, too,” one of the girls says from right on the other side of the door.
Blue’s face grows rowdy. “Yeah, can we get some privacy? We’re about to have sex.”
The stall door bounces against the lock and they scatter away, their shoes pattering against the concrete. “Perverts!”
I frown. “Was that necessary?’
“It was funny.” He wipes his finger against his nose. “You ready?”
I bite into my lip. “You go first.”
He shrugs and brings the license covered in powder to his nose. He places the twenty that’s rolled up like a straw into his nose and pinches the other nostril with his pointer finger. He breathes in sharply and moves the bill across the line, sucking up the Molly like a vacuum. He then hands me the card with the other line on it.
He pinches his nose and continues to snort. I peer down at the license—down at the drug. This is the point of no return. I’m anxious, nervous, and a little sick to my stomach. Blue locks his eyes with mine while pinching at his nose, nods, and I know it’s okay.
Slowly, I bring the card to my nose and line up the bill. I breathe in hard and take the entire line in one hit. I feel an odd burning sensation full of excitement that I’ve never experienced before.
And then it hits my throat, leaving the most vulgar taste as it makes its way down the lining of my esophagus, sticking to the walls of my throat. My nose feels full and it feels empty, and I begin to snort uncontrollably. With every breath, drainage slides down my throat. I could really use a glass of water. Or vodka.
“Okay?” he asks quietly, his palm on my shoulder.
I rub a hand across my face. “I’m good.”
“You want your money back?” He smiles.
“You hold onto it.”
“All right,” he says, pushing the bill into his pocket and retrieving a piece of gum. “Here, chew this.”
“No, thanks.” Gum is one of the most disgusting things in the world. If I wanted to chew on a ball of spit, I would just kiss someone with overactive salivary glands.
“Chew it. You don’t want your jaw to lock up.”
My entire body tenses. A herd of deer charge against my eyes, headlight style. “Why would my jaw lock up?”
“If you don’t chew this, you’re just going to chew on what’s available. Like your cheek.”
“Fine,” I huff as I unwrap the gum and toss it in my mouth.
Yum, grape.
Hand in hand, we walk down the dark midway. The full effect of the drug has yet to hit, but it’s become increasingly difficult to dodge other carnival-goers. For the second time tonight, I spot Dillon. He walks alone with one hand in the pocket of his jeans, casually strolling down the cracked path. His eyes are angled down, staring at his phone. The way he maneuvers around pedestrians who are out of his sight is admirable.
Instinct tells me I should run up to him and start a conversation. Just talk to him like I used to, back before things got so complicated. He lifts his head and instinct turns to panic. I can’t bear to look at him, any more than I want him to see me like this. I jerk on Blue’s hand and pull him to the left, past a concession stand that sells cheap beer.
We land on a field of grass and mud, and just up ahead sits the Zipper. I stop to breathe, but Blue has another idea, this time pulling me toward the ride. I’m sure it would be thrilling in my high state, but it could also be nauseating. I push my feet into the mud, bringing him to a halt as his arm breaks away from me. “Not right now,” I say, the words coming out slow.
His palms slide down the side of his cheeks, and a rambunctious smile snaps across his face. “We’re not going
to the Zipper.” He points to the house of mirrors, which sits right beside the neon-lit axis of the thrill ride. “We’re going in there.”
I like the sound of that.
“Charlie,” Dillon calls out from behind me.
Shit.
“Come on.” Blue grabs my hand again. We run toward the attraction, away from Dillon. My legs fatigue instantly, like we’re running toward the strong winds of a twister. I look back, and Dillon’s a blur. Three bodies trying to escape each other.
The next thing I know, we’re jogging up the steps to the entrance of the house of mirrors. Coming to a stop at the top of the platform, Blue digs the twenty-dollar bill out of his pocket and hands it to the carnie. It takes a moment, but I recognize him as Cookie, Blue’s friend from a week before.
“Just keep everyone out for twenty minutes,” Blue says, patting him on the chest. “Love ya, man.”
“Yeah, yeah. I love your hokey ass, too,” Cookie replies, and then proceeds to wink at me. “Have a great time.”
The entrance is dark, with the promise of bright lights peeking between the cracks in the wall ahead.
“Thanks for saving me,” I say, relieved I avoided a run-in with Dillon.
Blue shakes his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Dillon was just outside, then you grabbed my hand, and we ran into here.”
“I didn’t save you from anyone. I didn’t even know he was out there, and it’s not like you need to be saved from him anyway.”
I’m sure he was there, though it’s possible I was hallucinating. I’m not exactly an expert on drug use. And who does drugs without researching anyway? Stupid people do. I did. Then the second thing Blue said resonates with me. It’s true. I don’t need to be saved from Dillon. That’s ridiculous.
My thoughts bleed into each other, so I shut it all off. My focus scatters as we press further toward the end of the hallway, toward the lights. Blue pushes a floor-to-ceiling black curtain out of the way, revealing a large room lined with mirrors on all sides. This is not the carnival attraction I remember from my childhood. Another curtain hangs on the opposite side of the room. Neon lights flash across the space, reflecting endlessly from mirror to mirror to mirror.
It’s beautiful and it’s blinding. My head grows heavy. My entire body sinks into the depths of the floor. I catch Blue in the corner of my eye. His head droops and I think he’s feeling the same way. We quickly make our way to the other end of the room, push the curtain aside, and step into the maze of mirrors. The intoxicating blue, green, and red colors bleed against the mirrors ahead of us, and as the curtain falls back into its resting place, they disappear.
It’s much darker in the maze, lit only with black lights that are embedded in the ceiling. My chest tightens as I take a breath. My head bobbles weightlessly from side to side and I press a palm against a mirror to steady myself. Behind me, I notice Blue’s wide-eyed gaze rested upon me.
“You good?” his reflection asks.
I nod, paying close attention to the girl in the mirror. Her smile’s never been more infectious.
“And how do you feel?”
“Feel?” I question, searching for the right word. I feel something between ecstasy and anxiety, or a potent combination of both. “Free. I feel free.” I’m a million miles away from my body, unable to control it. My fingers trace a path along the mirror, the sensation of the glass electrifying me. The desire to touch and be touched blurs into a need.
I turn and rest my back against the mirror. His eyes catch mine. “It’s hot in here.”
His hands fall to my cheeks, sending shots of ecstasy through me. When he moves in to kiss me, I expect it on the lips and not the neck. His lips run across the second most sensitive part of my body. His tongue taunts me further, running from the base of my neck all the way to my ear. His tongue circles my ear before nibbling.
I claw into his back, clenching his shirt and pulling it tight. When I close my eyes, everything intensifies. Another nibble against my skin and I might explode. With every moan that escapes my lips, I grow more thankful that nobody can hear or see us. His breath burns hot against my flesh as sweat begins to trickle down my face.
He gently nibbles my ear once more, and then pulls back, his own face covered in a thin veneer of sweat. One hand still holds me by the cheek, his eyes focused intently on me. “Too damn hot,” he breathes frantically.
I simply nod.
In a fury, his hands grab the hem of his shirt and he rips it over his head. This is going to be a night not easily forgotten. His glistening chest shines like a mirror of its own. The way the lights paint his bare skin blinds me. I grab him, pulling him close, and I press my lips against his, tasting every atom of his grape-flavored gum.
My fingers trace across his damp back and he pushes into me. His lips are off my own and back at my neck, this time with urgency. A trail of slickness is left behind and is being warmed by every strong breath.
I can feel the thickness in his jeans with every push against me. I dig into the back of his denim and discover he’s not wearing anything under them as I collect a mound of ass in my hand. Firm and smooth. It’s my favorite part of his tremendous body.
He lifts my shirt as he bends to his knees, kissing every inch of my stomach on the way down. The button on my shorts popping open seems to echo in the tight space. I feel my shorts, and then my panties fall down the length of my legs.
He holds me by the hips as he plants kisses across my thighs, ending with a soft lap against my mound. I press my palms against his shoulders to steady myself. One look in the mirror behind us, and it’s a sight so perfect that I know there’s no turning back. The top of his ass peeks above loose jeans while he’s on bended knee.
He stands up and brings one hand against me, and the other across my shoulder, holding himself firm against the mirror. “Do you get it now?”
“Get what?”
“Why I do it. Why I take this drug?” He drags his palm against my opening, and I can’t even respond. “I can’t quit it, just like I don’t think I’ll ever be able to quit you.”
I moan, unable to do much else.
“You’ve made me wait,” he says with a rough smile. “And I’ve been patient, but I need to hear two words before we begin.”
“Free me, Blue.”
His tongue rolls across his lips. “I was thinking fuck me, but that’ll work.”
I’m not used to this—these words coming out of his mouth. He can go from one extreme to the next, from cute and gentle all the way to this. But this—
A finger pushes into me and I swear I can feel his heartbeat pulsing through it.
“Blue,” I moan.
“This isn’t gonna be like last time.” He pulls back, unbuckling his jeans. He steps out of them as they form a puddle on the floor. “You asked me to take you to the edge.” He lifts me up, pulling my legs around him so that I sit between his hips and the mirror. His hardness pushes against me, promising an unforgettable journey. “Are you ready?”
I hesitate, not because I don’t have an answer, but because speaking is a chore when my entire body is being held hostage. “I’m ready,” I whimper.
A slow, wanting smile begins on one side of his face, hitching all the way across. Then he pushes himself slowly into me, and my legs pull tight around him. He’s gentle, but I know it won’t last. The careful thrusts will soon turn into something else—something stronger, more intense.
Every time he pulls back, I’m terrified he’ll leave, that this will all end. Only dreams are this perfect. I pull against his neck, already feeling the impossible. There’s a surge rising in me, and I’m begging him to fuck me faster, harder, but he goes slow.
Across the way, I can see what I’d call the porn-view. His ass pulls tight with every thrust, my mouth held agape. More than feeling it, I can see it, as my innards are turned inside out. I come against his pulsing flesh, tightening around him.
“Shit,” he bre
athes, his fingers digging into my side and my ass. I lean my head back, throwing it against the glass as he continues to fuck me raw. Every time I think he’s close to the finish line, he repositions, each time driving further, deeper into me.
Since the night we met, I’ve been resisting this explosion, afraid it would turn our relationship into something temporary. I was wrong. There’s no point in denying the fire any longer. We’re part of the same flame, burning bright and hot, fueled by the same desire. The connection is strong, more than the sum of parts touching and thrusting. I’m complete with him, even as he tears my body into a million seizing pieces.
The mirror behind me warms, the sweat of my body painting a slippery coat against it. With every thrust, every push of his thighs, I slide further up the glass. In the vacant moments, I’m able to open my eyes. I see the ridges of his back fold and crease, his muscular ass pulling taut with every shift of his hardness.
His cock drives into me again and again. Scars begin to form under the pressure of my firm grip. I hold onto him tight, not because I fear I could fall, but because if I don’t, I could be fucked out of this world and into the next.
That time in the grass, he was holding back. There’s no other explanation as a second orgasm begins to rise from the bottom of my being, ascending all the way to the edges of my mind. Coursing and pulsing through every miniscule vein, taking its time while circling my heart, then finally wrapping firm around my soul until I’m unable to breathe any longer.
My entire body aches, screaming as I break. A weak cry stifles in my throat and I catch his eyes rested on my own. He sees me through my own pleasure, not breaking focus even as he begins to speed up.
His fingers dig into the curves of my ass, holding me in place as he empties himself inside me. His swollen lips vibrate as he gives himself to me completely. I brush a hand through his slick hair, cradling his head so that it doesn’t fall back. I watch as the revelation sinks into his eyes. I wanted to go to the edge with him, but we went further than I ever dreamed. There’s completeness in the space between us, filled with nothing but the aftershocks of ecstasy.
