Part 16 (1/2)
Every cell in her body has its own individual o.r.g.a.s.m, over and over. The dingy bas.e.m.e.nt has colors that have never existed anywhere in the universe before this moment. The tiny sounds of mice and roaches inside the walls echo like a beautiful concerto. The world is full and vibrant and alive again. More than ever.
”Sara? What're you doing? The ceremony's about to start!”
”Yeah, I know. But, um, it looks like I don't have to do it.”
Angie sighed into the phone. ”Another punishment? You don't get to go to graduation because you didn't do the laundry on time or something?”
”Dunno. Maybe. All I know is there's n.o.body here now. They didn't tell me anything.”
”Oh. They probably just forgot, then.”
”Yeah, probably. It's all right, though. You know I'd rather stay home than have all those eyes on me. This is much better.”
Neither girl spoke for a moment.
”I'm wearing my graduation gown here at home, though,” Sara said. So it's almost like I'm there.”
”Well, keep it on. You can wear it out to the parties tonight. We're going to meet at Matt Thompson's house, right?”
”Yeah. I can walk over there. You're going to get there at nine, right? I can't go alone if I don't know you're there.”
”We'll be there.”
”Can you put Josh on the phone?”
”He was around a minute ago but then his family mobbed him and dragged him off someplace. I'm not sure where he is right now.”
”Oh. Well, I'll see you both at the party, then.”
”I don't have any ammonia at home,” she said.
”Don' need it. You can use baking soda.” He rummaged around in a box of junk next to the table. ”Here. Li'l present...”
He handed her a pipe and a can of ether.
Her face slackened in grat.i.tude. Something inside her mind tried to scream, sickened by her reaction.
She stuffed the gla.s.s pipe into her purse on top of the ounce she'd bought- at substantial discount over what Alexander would have charged ...
But there's a reason for that, isn't there? A whole night with him? And a whole day pa.s.sed out? And you're proud of a discount? You're a wh.o.r.e, Princess.
The large rectangular can of ether dangled from her hand as she carefully made her way down the darkened sidewalk.
Freebase had to dry under a heat lamp for twenty-four hours before it could be smoked. Renfield wouldn't mind sharing his red bulb for a little while.
Sara couldn't feel her face. Even most of her body was numb. She leaned on the sprayer, trying to focus. Brian came up with a load of dishes, walking sort of like a cowboy.
”You look tired,” he said. ”Here.” He handed her a stick of gum. ”That'll perk you right up. Ginseng gum, all the way from Korea.”
She unwrapped the stick and popped it in her mouth. ”Mmm. Tastes like sugary dirt.”
”Yeah, you won't be laughing when it kicks in. Once you feel it, then you'll know.”
She put her hand on top of her head. ”Will I get bigger or smaller?”
He sneered at her, adjusting his pants and arching his back.
”Sorry,” she said, chewing. ”I guess I'm just used to stuff that, you know ... does something. Anyway, what's the matter with you?” she asked, s.h.i.+fting to lean on the front of the sink. ”Haven't gotten paid to s.h.i.+t yet?”
Brian lifted the edge of his black T-s.h.i.+rt. A wrist-thick b.l.o.o.d.y slab wrapped in plastic nestled against his stomach, descending into his black pants. ”Shhh!” he said. ”Don't tell, okay? Don't tell. It's prime rib! I'm runnin' to my car, okay? If anyone looks for me, tell 'em I'm out smoking.” He shuffled toward the back door. ”Gonna have me a prime rib party!”
”Sara!” Terry called from over by the stove. ”We're running out of olive oil. Get some from the storeroom.” She stared. He flicked his fingers at her like he was trying to shoo away a squirrel. ”Now!”
She lumbered into the storeroom. There was an open case of olive oil. She grabbed one of the big plastic jugs. Someone had written on it: a.s.s lube. Use on Neil's Dad.
Twenty-three hours. Close enough to twenty-four. Close enough.
Iggy had said to let it dry for twenty-four hours. But she'd been staring at the crystals and suffering, snorting line after useless line for something like two hours.
Close enough.
The ether made her room smell like a hospital. Would someone smell it? Maybe call the police?
She laughed. If anything brings the police, it'll be Joe's wallet.
Breathing heavily to load up on oxygen was easy. Holding the pipe, loaded with crystals, made her breathe hard anyway. It made her want to dance. To giggle with glee. To take over the world.
Her hands trembled. She flicked the lighter, warming the bowl and drawing in the fumes. A little tendril of lost vapor danced above the bowl as she removed the pipe from her lips, setting it down next to the lighter.
Moans. From somewhere. Somewhere inside me.
Another full-body o.r.g.a.s.m floods every cell. She sinks back into the red velvet couch, its fabric kissing and caressing her skin wherever it touches. Its little fuzzy hairs stick up from its fabric, now perfectly visible as if she is a tiny creature walking among them. The void inside her is finally filled.
Down in the darkest part of her, the trapped little Sara feels fine.
CHAPTER 12.
The Imp of a Vampire ”JUST-A-COUPLE-more-weeks-till-we-graduate, Uh-uh-uh, uh-uh-uh-uh-uh,” Angie sang along with Greg Kihn's Breakup Song. ”Gonna-get-away-from-people-that-we-really-hate, Uh-uh-uh, uh-uh-uh-uh-uh.”