I was so pissed off that I stopped her the only way I knew how. I said, Reid was there, you know.
At the sound of his name, Ashley spun around and there was the faintest spark of hope in her eyes. As she opened her mouth to ask about him, I felt the rage in my chest bubble up through my lips. I told her that he was there with a new girl—a college girl. That Derrick’s sister Sara was all over him. That they were dancing and kissing and feeling each other up in the middle of the music and lights and dancing. As I said the words, I saw her whole face crumple in on itself, but I couldn’t stop. She was crying and telling me to stop, but I kept going. I told her how Reid had laughed about her with me. How he didn’t care about her anymore, and maybe he’d never cared about her at all.
I told her that she was just jealous of me now. That all my life I’d been the nerdy older sister. The band geek who never got invited to anything. That now the tables had turned. I asked her how she liked being the girl who was stuck at home while I went out with my hot boyfriend. She couldn’t even answer me. She just ran out of my room crying.
I was so angry after she left I was shaking. I can barely hold this pen. And you know something? I don’t feel bad about saying those things. After all the years where I was like a freaking second-class citizen in this family, I don’t give a shit if I hurt her feelings. She should know how it feels. Here’s a taste of your own medicine, Ashley. Sucks, doesn’t it?
Monday, June 16
I just got back from seeing Jess. Carson came over this morning after my dad went to work. He just showed up on the front porch and rang the doorbell. My mom was working in her office down the hall and I heard her pass my room to go and answer. I just figured it was the UPS man or something, but when she opened the door, I heard her say, Oh! Hi, Carson! in this sort of surprised, cheery voice.
Thank god I’d gotten up and taken a shower this morning and put on some eyeliner. I was hoping to convince my mom to let me go to the library or the grocery store or SOMEWHERE today, so I had gotten dressed in halfway decent clothes already too. When I heard her say his name, I opened my door and stuck my head into the hallway, just as she called up the stairs for me to come down.
Carson was wearing nice jeans and a short-sleeved button-up plaid shirt. He looked very nice, and he was holding flowers. When I came into the entryway next to the front door, he smiled at me, and my mom told me, I wish I had a young man showing up on my doorstep with flowers. Then Carson did something that was truly remarkable. He said, Oh, these ARE for you, and held the bouquet out toward my mom. Before I knew what was happening, my mom was standing there holding a fistful of pink gerbera daisies and blinking at Carson like he was a heavenly apparition. He smiled at her and said, I was hoping you’d let me take her to pick out her own flowers.
If anyone besides Carson tried this stunt, it would’ve backfired miserably. If he’d tried it with any mother but my own, it probably wouldn’t have worked. But Carson is just that kind of guy—so charming that it catches you off guard. And I think my mom has always secretly wanted to be Ashley—the pretty, popular one. Carson made her feel that way. Mom actually giggled, and then said she thought that might be okay, as long as we weren’t gone long. Carson explained that Jess wasn’t feeling well, and that he’d hoped he could drive me by her house for a visit to cheer her up.
Mom expressed all sorts of concern for Jess and asked me why I hadn’t said anything about it. I’ve been texting Jess a lot since I saw her on that stretcher at the swimming pool—all day Sunday and off and on all day yesterday. I’ve been going out of my mind. She hasn’t texted me back once. Not a single time. Which is sort of unheard of. It filled me with dread that something was really wrong with her. Carson and I had video chatted last night and he said that he’d gotten ahold of Kelly and she said that Jess was okay and at home now. This just made it seem even weirder that she wasn’t texting me back.
I shrugged and told my mom that I knew Jess wasn’t feeling well but didn’t think she’d have let me go see her anyway, and then Mom acted like that was preposterous. She acted like I wasn’t grounded—like she’d forgotten all about the graduation party incident two weeks ago—and made it seem like the most ridiculous thing in the world that I suggested she wouldn’t have let me go. Then she made it sound like it was the most important thing in the world for me and Carson go cheer Jess up. She said to take our time and just be home before dinner.
Well, let’s just say that you don’t have to tell me twice. I wasn’t about to question this. I grabbed my purse and keys. As I was walking out the door with Carson, I looked up and saw Ashley standing on the top stair, leaning against the wall. Her arms were folded, and she had a look on her face like she’d just sucked on a lemon. A chill shot down my spine, but I forced myself to smile, and then turned on my heel and left with Carson.
When we rolled up in front of Jess’s house, Carson took off his seat belt, then pulled me toward him and started kissing me. He told me how much he missed me. I laughed and told him that I couldn’t believe he just showed up at my front door. He smiled slyly and said, I thought your mom might be a pushover if I brought her flowers.
We got out of the car and rang the doorbell at Jess’s house. It took her a really long time to come to the door, and when she opened it, she didn’t seem to be feeling very well. She looked a little pale, but more than that, she wasn’t smiling or her usual bubbly self. She frowned at us and looked kind of pained, like this was a big nuisance having to open the door. She said hi, and just stood there. I moved in to give her a hug, but she didn’t hug me back, just kept her hand on the doorknob. I told her how happy I was that she was okay, and how when I saw her on that stretcher, I couldn’t stop crying. I explained that I had tried to chase the medics but Kelly had stopped me.
Jess just looked at us. She didn’t say anything, and the longer she stood there silently, the stranger I felt. Finally, I glanced at Carson and then back at Jess and asked her if we could come in. She shrugged and pushed the door all the way open, then turned around and headed into her living room. She curled up on the couch and stared at the television, which was on, but the sound was muted.
I asked if she was okay, and Jess told us that she was fine, just dehydrated. She said they’d kept her in the hospital until they’d given her a ton of fluids. Her mom showed up to get her and was really scared, but she said that her dad had just told her to stop doing drugs like some hippie party girl, and then left on another business trip. I was sitting on the couch next to Jess and when she said this I reached over and grabbed her hand. I told her again how happy I was that she was okay, and that next time we’d remember to make sure everybody drank plenty of water.
Jess sort of scoffed when I said this and pulled her hand away. She punched a button on the remote and the TV flickered off. Then she looked at me and asked if I was crazy. I frowned but didn’t say anything. Jess was acting so weird. She looked at me and then Carson, and shook her head and ran a hand over her face and through her hair. She told me there wasn’t going to be a “next time.”
I frowned and I guess I looked a little shocked when I asked her if she was serious because she got angry—not yelling Ashley-style, but I could tell my question had annoyed her. She shot back a terse, Yes, REALLY! and then stared at me and Carson really hard. Her eyes were cold. She said she wasn’t going to roll again because she couldn’t trust her friends to look out for her.
When she said that, I felt like she had slapped me across the face. I looked at Carson and then back to Jess. I opened my mouth to argue, but Jess held up a hand and told me to give it a rest. I felt my eyes fill up with tears, but before I could say or do anything, Carson stood up and said, Okay, well, we just wanted to check on you and make sure you were okay.
Jess bitterly said she was fine like she was implying it was no thanks to us. And then Carson and I were standing on the sidewalk in front of her house. I was still reeling. I couldn’t believe that my best friend in the whole world basically blamed me for
her own stupid mistake. It wasn’t MY fault that she didn’t drink enough water. It wasn’t MY fault that she was a heavy girl and probably needed more water than the rest of us because she was sweating so much more while she danced. I felt this terrible, gross anger in the pit of my stomach—different from what I felt when Ashley was in my room yesterday. This hurt worse. Ashley and I are sisters, so what if we don’t have to like each other? We’re family. But Jess? I’ve had her back for years. What did this mean for our friendship?
Carson opened the passenger door to his car and waited for me to get in, then he drove us to his house. His dad and mom were both at work, and we went out by the pool and sat down and put our feet in the water. He got us beers from the fridge and poured them into plastic glasses, leaving the glass bottles in the kitchen. He talked to me for a long time—actually he just listened. I ranted about how self-righteous Jess was being, and he said that she and Kelly were in a big fight about all of this too. Jess apparently blamed Kelly for calling her parents. Kelly had tried to explain that she couldn’t have gone to the hospital with Jess and accomplished anything. They had to know.
After a while we went back inside, and one thing led to another. The beer had made me light-headed, and pretty soon Carson and I were both naked and he was kissing me between my legs. It felt so amazing that I just let him keep doing it until I felt a familiar buzz and hum course through my body—a feeling I’d only given myself before. Then I pulled him back up next to me on his bed and returned the favor. I could tell he wanted to be inside me, but I wasn’t in the right head space for all that. Not that it was so different from what we had just done, but it felt like a big step for our relationship somehow. He said it was the best blow job he’d ever had in his life. I asked if he’d had a lot, and he didn’t really answer, but I didn’t really care. Carson isn’t a bullshitter. That’s one of the things that makes me feel comfortable with him. What you see is what you get.
As he drove me back home, I turned on some music, and he reached over and took my hand. We didn’t say anything else until he parked in my driveway. He turned to me and said, We should hang out again tomorrow. I told him I was down with that if my mom was. He told me that he wanted to hang out with our friend molly tomorrow, and I know I got this big surprised look on my face.
Carson explained that he’d gotten Kyle’s number the other night when he dropped us off after the Whip5mart concert fiasco and had scored some more molly yesterday. He’d always wanted to roll in the daytime, and his mom and dad would be at work all day tomorrow. I couldn’t lie. It sounded like the best idea ever.
I don’t care what Jess and Ashley say. I don’t want to stop rolling. I love doing molly. I love doing it with Carson. I’m excited about it just being him and me tomorrow.
Tuesday, June 17
Carson stayed for dinner just now, which was an experience and a half—especially after our day together. I hadn’t intended to ask him in when he brought me home today, but my mom actually stepped out onto the front porch to wave at us as we pulled into the driveway, and insisted that Carson join us for dinner. Ashley didn’t come out of her room until dinner was served, and she sat down and immediately started grilling Carson on what we did today until my mom said, Ashley, maybe you could pass me the spinach salad and stop grilling our guest like he’s on Law & Order, which made me laugh with water in my mouth and it almost came out my nose.
He did a great job of carrying on a conversation with my mom and dad. Thank god. I was still coming down from our little day trip.
Carson stopped by this morning around ten with a small box of doughnuts and sweet-talked my mom into letting him “steal me” for the day to help him pick out a birthday present for his mother. This was not a complete lie. Carson’s mom does have a birthday coming up next month, but he’s already picked out the present. It’s this clock at a store that sells furniture from the 1960s, and it looks like a starburst with little hands in the middle. Anyway, he and my mom immediately got into this conversation about the design from that time and tossed around the names of all these designers that Carson’s mom loves.
By the time we’d all finished a cup of coffee and a doughnut, Mom was sold and told me to have a good time and be sure to be home for dinner. I started laughing as Carson pulled out of the driveway, and he smiled his sly little smile and asked what was so funny. I just said, Shouldn’t it be harder than this? I told him that he has some sort of evil power over my mother, and he told me that he actually really likes my mom. I just stared at him like he was crazy. This is exactly what I was talking about: He doesn’t mess around. He’s not pretending. If he seems to really like somebody, it’s not because he’s putting on an act.
Today was one of the first days it was over eighty degrees, so it was a perfect day to hang out by the pool. We changed in his bedroom. That’s another thing I like about him—he’s not shy. Not that he should be. His body is off the hook from football and track. He’s totally comfortable in his own skin. And something about him being so comfortable pulling off his T-shirt and then kicking out of his shorts made me totally comfortable too. Carson wasn’t wearing any underwear under his gym shorts and he didn’t act like a little boy and turn around to try to hide his front side from me. He picked up his shorts and folded them and put them on the bed, then walked over to his dresser and pulled out a pair of swim trunks. As he did, he glanced over at me and caught me full-on staring at him.
He paused for a second and smirked. Then, as he rummaged through his drawer for trunks, he told me that he only had one rule in his bedroom: If he was naked, everybody had to be. I laughed and pulled off my top and unhooked my bra right then and there. He stepped into these black swim shorts with a red stripe around each leg. They’re short—not like board shorts, but nylon and like something you’d see a grown man swim laps in. They weren’t a Speedo or anything, but they were trim and tight like him. When he caught sight of me topless, he got this lazy, goofy smile on his face. He said, Damn, these shorts had more room in them before you took off your shirt.
We both collapsed on the bed for a second laughing, and then we kissed and he rolled over on top of me. He kissed my neck and then my breasts and then I pushed him off and said, We have plenty of time to fool around after molly gets here.
And you know what? He said the sweetest thing. He said, You’re the only girl I need. I kissed him again on the lips, and then shimmied out of my shorts and into my bikini. As I tucked everything into its proper place up top, Carson just laid on his bed watching me, and when I was all done he said, That’s gonna look so good on my floor later. I laughed, arched an eyebrow, and said, If you’re lucky.
Then he went over to his nightstand and pulled out a little plastic baggie that had four hits of molly in it. They were the same little capsules that we had taken the other night. He glanced at the clock and did some math. He said it was noon now, so we’d probably just take one and save the other two for another time because his mom would be home by six, and Kyle had said this stuff should give us a good four-hour roll and then we could come down for the last hour from four to five. Then he asked, Swallow or snort?
I tapped my nose, and Carson opened up two capsules and crushed out two beautiful smooth lines on his glass desktop. Then he rolled up a twenty-dollar bill and held it out to me. We both snorted our doses, and then we went into the living room, where he plugged in his iPhone and hit a couple buttons. Music flooded through the house and spilled out into the pool area. Carson handed me a bottle of spray-on waterproof sunscreen, then grabbed a couple of waters from the refrigerator under the bar next to his dad’s immense grill.
As soon as we were done with the sunscreen, Carson did a little dive into the deep end of the pool, then swam the length to the shallow end underwater. The sun glinted off his body and he looked like a painting. At the far wall in the shallow end, he did a flip turn like he was an expert swimmer and pushed off the wall, gliding up to the surface in the middle of the pool. He did that thing guys do whe
n they toss their hair as they come up, and the water flinging off his head and sparkling in the sunlight made me feel the first whoosh of the molly. It was like he’d tossed diamonds into the air instead of water droplets, and my eyes wiggled with them as they danced across the blue of the sky.
I felt so sexy, standing there in my bikini—like that night at prom. I walked slowly to the edge, and then, without any warning, I did a cannonball off the side with a big yell. When I surfaced, Carson was laughing . . . and holding my bikini top, which had come off as soon as I hit the water. He grinned and said, You’re missing something. I kissed him on the lips and took it from him, then tossed it over my shoulder onto the side of the pool and said, How nice for you.
Rolling during the day, outside in the bright sunlight, was different than it usually is. Molly makes me want to dance when there’s loud pulsing music and a crowd and a dark dance floor with beautiful lights flashing, but during the day, with Carson, it was a new experience. We floated on the rafts with our bottles of water and smoked a couple cigarettes. We took turns jumping off the side of the pool and feeling the difference on our skin between the hot sun and the cool water. Carson fished a couple of these water cannon tubes out of a bin under the bar. They work like big foam syringes. You suck water into them and then plunge it out. We played with those for at least an hour, lying on rafts watching the trails of light sparkling off the streams of water that he shot into the air. He got really good at doing swirls and curls, and at some point, he kicked off his swim trunks and tossed them onto the side of the pool next to my top. As I write all of this down, I know that it sounds like sort of boring stuff to do, but I can’t exactly explain how absolutely exquisite the molly made each of these little things. The visuals created by the sun and water, the light as it played across Carson’s body; all of it made me feel completely drenched in pleasure.
Dancing with Molly Page 11