High by LP Lovell Page B

me and smiles as he serves a guy his beers. As soon as he’s free he comes over. Todd is not your stereotypical drug dealer. He has bright red hair and a splash of freckles across his nose that make him look so sweet and innocent, but, let’s just say that the only reason Todd works behind the bar is because his uncle runs the place and it’s easy access. From back there he makes thousands a night.
    “Blake. How are ya?”
    “Good thanks. You?”
    He shrugs and nods. “You want your usual?”
    “Please.” I hand him a twenty and he sets to making the drink. He has a nightly special, but for me, he always makes the same thing. A martini with kick—a little bit of ecstasy and mandy. He calls it ‘The Blake’. That’s right bitches, I got a fucking drink named after me, and let me tell you, it’s the good shit.
    He places the drink on the bar and I take a sip, watching the last fizz of the pills in the bottom. I do love a Martini.
    I neck it in a few gulps and turn away from the bar, searching for Milly. I know she’s here somewhere with one of her artsy guys. It doesn’t take long to find her. She’s in the middle of a group of guys and they’re all looking at her like they want to eat her. I guess she dropped the art dude. She tosses her long dark hair over her shoulder as she dances, trailing her hand over her chest. And…she’s already had one of Todd’s cocktails. I move through the dance floor, and push into the group of guys, sliding up behind her. She leans back against me, giggling.
    “Blake. It’s so colourful.” Damn it, todays special must be acid. Fun, but not Milly’s forte. She once spent two hours standing in the middle of a club on her jacket because apparently the floor was water and the sharks were going to get her.
    “Yeah, pretty. Now come on, let’s go dance.” I drag her away from the guys and we dance on our own. I have no idea where the fuck Felix went. The drink is starting to kick in now, and it hits me in a gradual wave, forcing my heart to pound against my ribs erratically. 
    My body moves with the music of its own violation. It’s like instinct, non-conscious. I smile as the blissful euphoria washes over me, lifting me, making me feel invincible. I feel sexy and confident and free.
    I lift my hair off my neck as I feel a bead of sweat roll down my nape. I’ve lost track of how long I’ve been dancing, but when I glance down, I realize I’ve taken my shoes off. There’s a cut on my foot where I guess I stepped on some glass, but I don’t care.
    I want another drink, and then I want to party until I can’t even remember my own name.

    Meow.
    What the hell? I groan and roll over, burrowing deeper into the duvet.
    Meow.
    Okay, three scenarios here. One, I’m dreaming. Two, Milly drank one too many acid cocktails and thinks she’s a cat or three, I’ve finally taken one pill too many and lost my shit.
    Meow.
    I crack an eye open and pull the duvet back. Four, there actually is a cat here. The little black and white cat is staring at me, it’s face inches from mine as it kneads the pillow, purring like a little train.
    “Milly?” I shout.
    No response of course. I slide out of bed and scoop the cat up, cradling it against my chest as I make my way to Milly’s room. I push the door open and it’s pitch black inside.
    I grab the string for the blind and yank it up, allowing daylight to flood into the room. “Milly!”
    “Fuck!” She shrieks, rolling over until she’s face down in the pillow with her arms at her sides. I’m pretty sure she might suffocate herself.
    “Milan.” I shove her shoulder and she rolls onto her back, shielding her eyes from the light.
    “I fucking hate you. You are the worst friend in the history of ever, and I will remember this.” She hisses.
    “Whose cat is this?” I point at the cat but she keeps her hand over her eyes.
    “Is that like a figurative term for the fact that you accidentally ate pussy again?”
    “No.”I sigh.