Luxe

by Ashley Antoinette

  “Ms. Montclair.”

  The even tone of disdain belonged to Professor Davis. Bleu immediately pulled away from Iman in embarrassment, straightening her clothes as her eyes widened in horror.

  “Professor Davis … I … umm, we—”

  “I’m glad to see you’re using your time wisely, Ms. Montclair,” Professor Davis said sarcastically. “One would think you would at least try to keep your place here, but apparently it isn’t a priority.”

  Bleu and Iman exited the elevator as Professor Davis entered.

  Bleu had no response. She knew how bad things looked. She was blowing her opportunity at UCLA. She and the professor both knew it. Respect was earned and Bleu had none reserved with Professor Davis. Bleu had done absolutely nothing to prove that she even deserved her scholarship. As the elevator doors closed she wanted to say something in her own defense, but what could she say? At this point she had to show and prove. Words meant nothing and the look of disgust on her professor’s face spoke volumes. The doors closed and Bleu sighed as she placed her hands over her face.

  “I’m such a fucking idiot,” she said aloud as tears overwhelmed her. She was tired as hell, edgy, embarrassed, and completely in over her head. A breakdown was inevitable.

  Iman pulled her into him. “Shh, it’s okay, ma. I’m sure you’re not the first student she’s caught kissing her boyfriend in an elevator,” he said. He was clueless to her dilemma. Her entire life had been one long struggle, and she was about to earn a one-way ticket back to Flint.

  “You don’t understand,” she whispered.

  “Can I do anything to help?” he asked.

  She nodded as he wiped her tears with his thumb. “You can give me a ride back to my hall? I can’t do this with you. Not tonight. She’s right. I should be focused. Finals are in a few days. I know this seems young and dumb to you, but it’s important and I have to focus.”

  He nodded and wrapped his arms around her. This young woman had his heart on a string. There wasn’t much that she could ask of him that he wouldn’t oblige. He could see that she needed him to fall back for a while. She seemed like she was wound tight, obsessing and stressing over her schooling. He could dig it and he would play the game by her rules in order to make things easier.

  * * *

  The amount of cloud smoke that Bleu was hit with as she entered her room slapped her in the face. China sat near the open window, blowing trees. The smell of weed was so potent that Bleu knew what was going on before she even stepped inside. The towels that had lined the bottom of the door did little to keep the scent inside.

  “I can smell that shit all the way from the hall,” Bleu said as she flung her backpack toward her desk. “Why can’t you do that in Aysha’s room? You know I don’t smoke.”

  China waved Bleu over and patted the spot beside her. “Relax, Bleu. You’re wound kind of tight. It’s finals week. Everybody in the dorm is probably doing the same thing right now. There’s nothing wrong with taking the edge off and getting a little pick-me-up.”

  China inhaled a blunt filled with “purple” Kush. She held it in her lungs before choking it out with a cough and a laugh. “For you to be from the hood, you’re real square, you know that, Bleu?” she asked.

  Bleu scoffed and shook her head. “Not square; weed isn’t my thing, though. Have you seen niggas roll blunts? All that spit is digusting.”

  China put out the blunt and hopped off the windowsill as she pulled at the boy shorts she wore. “Well, lucky for you I’ve got a pipe,” China said. China went over to her desk and prepared the pipe before coming back to the window.

  “Just relax, girl. This will make you forget all of those worries. This is that good shit. Just close your eyes and inhale,” China instructed.

  Bleu thought about saying no, but honestly, getting high sounded like the perfect solution to her problems. She just wanted to zone out for a while.

  “Just do it. It’s just a little smoke,” China convinced her.

  Bleu closed her eyes and wrapped her lips around the pipe as China put the flame underneath. She inhaled and then instantly choked and coughed as the vapor seemed to burn her lungs.

  China held the pipe to Bleu’s lips again. “Hit it again,” she coached. “You’ll get used to it.”

  Bleu swept a loose hair behind her ear and leaned over the pipe again.

  This time she didn’t choke, and as the seconds ticked by she felt a warmness flow through her.

  Instant gratification.

  Bleu’s mind became a blank canvas as the pressure she felt miraculously dissolved. Her nipples pressed against the fabric of her T-shirt and her clit swelled.

  “It’s hot in here.” She moaned out the words as her body slipped into a euphoric state. “This is some good shit,” she whispered as she licked her lips. “I never knew weed could feel this good.”

  “Weed can’t,” China said. “You just hit meth.”

  Suddenly it sounded as though China were speaking French as Bleu’s eyes blurred. Fear of the unknown seized her.

  “What?” Bleu asked. “Why would you—”

  “Relaaaax,” China said. “You hit it now. No point in tripping. Just enjoy the high and thank me later. The high with meth is amazing, but the comedown is rough. Especially for your first time. When you start feeling like crap, sleep it off.”

  Bleu wanted to be mad, she wanted to go off, but the good feelings that were coursing through her convinced her that she couldn’t be too upset. Besides, I can’t get hooked after one time, right? she thought. Anybody can quit something that they’ve only done once.

  Bleu’s mind was in a happy place because although she was pissed she felt anything but. Her week had been hard and this mental break was much needed. Fuck it, this could be my last week in L.A. If I fail these finals I’m out of here anyway. Fuck Professor Davis. Who gives a damn what she thinks? Might as well enjoy the little time I have left here, she thought. She wasn’t even tripping when she watched China refill the pipe; this time she didn’t hide the glass shards. Wasn’t any need for further trickery. Bleu wanted more of this bliss … this ecstasy. It was like someone had handed her the key to happiness. Her heart skipped a beat in anticipation as a light sweat developed on her forehead as she watched how China prepared the pipe. Bleu fanned herself as her body temperature rose in reaction to her first blast. China held up the pipe once more. Bleu’s first hit had been under false pretenses, she hadn’t known what she was smoking, but this time she was more than willing as she sucked the vapors into her lungs. Her head fell back in complete bliss as she closed her eyes.

  “It feels like my arms are going numb,” she whispered. She began to scratch at them as she felt tiny legs crawling up her skin.

  “Don’t scratch,” China schooled her. “Just rub. There isn’t anything there. It’s just the high. The last thing we need is you digging holes in your skin, walking around looking like a meth head. Be discreet. As long as you don’t fall into the traps, no one will ever know you’re using it.”

  “I’m not using it,” Bleu said quickly, defensively. “You make it sound like I’m hooked.”

  China held up her hands innocently. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just saying … I’m trying to look out for you.”

  “This is a onetime thing,” Bleu said.

  “How do you feel?” China asked.

  Bleu stood up and hung out of the window as she looked over the campus and shouted, “I feel alive!” She burst into a fit of laughter as she climbed up on the windowsill. “Whooo!!” she shouted, feeling as if she could finally breathe a sigh of relief. Nothing had changed, but the drugs had warped her mind into believing that her problems didn’t exist. “I don’t want to sit in this dusty-ass room. Let’s go out. Call Bree; where’s Aysha? Let’s get into something.”

  “Chill, party girl. Everybody’s wrapped up in their own thing. We all have finals to get ready for,” China said.

  She passed Bleu the remainder of her stash. She suppl
ied Bleu with an eight-ball, more than any beginner was ready for. “Can you handle that?”

  “I told you, I’m not doing this again,” Bleu replied.

  China nodded and then put her stash back into her drawer. “Okay,” she said while giving Bleu a skeptical look. China knew how easy it was to get caught up in the euphoric rush. She noticed the stars in Bleu’s widened eyes. She was tweaking and in outer space. China had just introduced Bleu to an abusive lover. It was making her feel good now, but it wouldn’t be long before the pleasure eventually became pain.

  19

  Thirty-six hours later

  Bleu’s fingers cramped as they moved across the keyboard at lightning speed. Her brain was working harder than it ever had but, with the help of her new secret weapon, she didn’t sweat it. She had written three research papers so far. What had taken other students an entire semester to do she had done in hours. What she had promised herself would be one hit had turned into a run of repeated doses. She didn’t know that the high would last for a while, so in fear of it disappearing she kept re-upping. This new level of productivity was addictive and the rush was unlike anything she had ever felt before. Every time it felt like it could be going away she itched for more. It was like good sex or good food; one taste had her coming back again and again. The Adderall had made her focus, but it hadn’t been enough. She had still felt tired and the effects of no sleep had made her feel like a walking zombie. With meth, she felt limitless. She didn’t even realize that she hadn’t slept. Between the days on Adderall and now the meth, she was coming up on day six without rest. It didn’t matter that she had bags under her eyes or that her appearance was slightly disheveled. She didn’t even care that she had forgotten to eat. She felt like Superwoman and as long as she was flying through the schoolwork she had no complaints. She was geeking and going through life at a hundred miles per hour without brakes.

  Giddy with excitement and anxiety, she reached for her bag, removing her books. As she began to read, the words jumped off the pages. She flipped the paper so quickly that she gave herself paper cuts. Every sentence made perfect sense. Every word she typed sounded like pure genius. It felt like she had just discovered a miracle drug, and there was no doubt in her mind that she would be able to finish everything on time. Meth had made the impossible possible. She no longer had to worry about losing her scholarship, but in the process she had lost her soul. It was in the devil’s hands now, and it would be a long time before she would get it back.

  Forty-eight hours later

  Slowly, as her high faded, the weight of the world was placed back on her shoulders, and this time it was heavier than ever before. Regret and shame gripped her as the reality of what she had done hit her under sober pretenses. Finally, after three and a half days of nonstop work and after almost a week of no sleep, the aftermath hit her. As she lay curled under her covers, with her hands over her ears and a beauty mask shading her eyes, she felt the misery that was inevitable. The overdose of dopamine that had flooded her system now was stopped altogether and she was left feeling empty, void of all emotion. She was a shell, but the inside had been carved out. All she wanted to do was sleep, but every time she closed her eyes she pictured herself wrapping her lips around a glass pipe. Then she saw her mother wrapping her lips around a glass pipe. It was too familiar and, in the depths of Bleu’s soul, she feared the repercussions.

  What the fuck was I thinking? she asked herself as she clenched her eyes shut. Things were out of control. If she had felt the need to turn to drugs just to help her manage her time then she was doing something extremely wrong. She was letting L.A. get the best of her. Yes, she had made up her work. She wouldn’t receive her semester grades for at least another week, but she knew that she had aced her finals. The meth had done everything that China had promised, but had the trade-off been worth it?

  The ringing of her cell forced her to lift her head as she reached for the nightstand where it rested. Even Iman’s name didn’t excite her. The fog that had settled over her life was too thick for even him to break through. She buttoned him, sending him to voice mail, and then clenched her eyes together trying to force them to stay shut. Her mind wanted to sleep, but her body wouldn’t let her. She was up and down, her emotions all over the place. She couldn’t control them if she tried. The sound of China walking into their room, followed by the voices of Bree and then Aysha, caused Bleu to grimace. She just wanted some privacy … time to process what she had done. She wasn’t ready to face them. Surely they looked at her in an entirely new light. If she was judging herself she knew that they had to be. Again she thought, What the fuck was I thinking? The stupidity of her decisions was immeasurable and she was sick to her stomach just thinking about it. Or was she sick to her stomach from the meth? She didn’t know at this point.

  “Damn, girl, you a’ight?” Bree commented as he reached down and pulled the covers from over Bleu’s head. “Fuck you get into last night?” he asked.

  “She’s fine,” China said with attitude, not appreciating Bree’s interest in Bleu. “She just went on a little meth run.”

  Bree’s face turned cold as he sat down on the edge of Bleu’s bed. “You didn’t give her nothing to help with the comedown? Come on, ma. You know better than that!” Bree barked as he pulled Bleu up. Her body was so fatigued that she was like a rag doll as he leaned her back against the wall.

  “Hmm-hmm, just go away, Bree. I feel like shit,” Bleu groaned.

  “And you gon’ feel like shit unless you take something. You can’t fly high and then dip this low, baby girl,” he said.

  Aysha stood back, a bit taken aback as she watched Bree force Bleu to sit up. She covered her mouth in disbelief. “How much did you give her? Meth, China?” Aysha asked. She had dabbled in many things, but crystal meth was something that she vowed to never do. Ever. She had seen the monstrous things it could do.

  “Not that much. She’s fine. It’s just her first time,” China snapped.

  Aysha went into her purse and pulled out a pill bottle. She popped the top and passed Bree one of the magic downers inside.

  “Take this,” Bree said as he pinched the sides of Bleu’s face, forcing the pill into her open mouth. “It’ll bring you down, relax you, and help you sleep. I need you good for the weekend. I have never even met the connect before, so this is big. I need you at your best.”

  She took the pill and Aysha handed her a bottle of water to wash it down.

  “I have more if you need ’em,” Aysha offered. “I have fucked-up anxiety, so my doctor writes me a regular prescription.”

  China huffed loudly. “My God! She’s fine! She’s high as fuck! When she comes off of that shit she’ll be okay. Can you lay out the lick this weekend or are you gonna baby her all day?”

  “Relax, China. Should have never gave her the shit from jump. Fuck was you thinking?” Bree asked.

  “I was thinking that I was helping her ass out,” China snapped. “You know what? When you’re done babysitting, call me.”

  Suddenly she couldn’t contain her jealousy and stormed out as Bree shook his head in frustration.

  “Go after her,” Bleu moaned as she lay back down. “I’m good.”

  “Are you sure?” Aysha asked.

  “Yeah, I’m positive. I’ll be ready by the weekend,” she mumbled.

  * * *

  Two days. She missed two whole days of life, and when she finally came to she frowned, as her covers stuck to her wet body.

  “Did I pee on myself?” she asked, disgusted as she felt the warm, wet bedding beneath her. She was grateful that she was alone and she jumped up, embarrassed, as she snatched the soiled sheets off of the bed. She peeled herself out of her clothes and swept her messy hair out of her face. The world was hazy, and although she had just awakened, she felt like she could lie right back down and drift back into dreamland. Her body was tired, sore even, but slightly unsatisfied. It was like she had an insatiable urge to smoke just one more time. She shook her hea
d, trying to gather her wits as she stuffed her sheets into the dirty hamper before making her way to the bathroom. Tension had found its way back into her shoulders. The false sense of security that she had felt faded away and she was left with a nagging feeling of worry. She lowered her head, not caring that the water was destroying her hair as it sprayed down on her. She was overwhelmed with the reality of what she had done. She had stooped to a low place and, as she watched the water swirl down the drain, she wished she could rinse her sins away. She squeezed her eyes closed as the beads of water beat down on her back, kneading the stress out of her shoulders with every drop.

  Did I even pass? she thought, worrying that the drugs had made her overconfident in her own ability. Who takes final exams high? I probably fucked up any chance I had of passing, she thought. She washed her body, mind cluttered with guilt from what she had done, as she hurriedly dressed. She was bothered by the uncertainty of her fate. She couldn’t sit around and wait for semester grades to be posted. She needed to know now. I can just ask my professors, she thought as she hurriedly dressed. She grabbed her handbag, threw a Polo hat over her wet weave, and headed out the door. The guessing game would kill her if she waited. She had to know how she had done. The actual test was such a blur that she silently feared the worst. She drove across campus, flying at top speed like a bat out of hell and then parked directly in front of the building. She rushed in to see Professor Davis.