Lost Girls(41)

“That’s what I’m talking about,” she said when she pulled the syringe out, a deep sigh filling her lungs. “Which one of you wants a hit of Pink Lightning?”

Stephanie grabbed a syringe and pumped the needle into her flesh, looking like she did this on a regular basis. Zoe shook her head. “I had some before I left home. Still buzzing.”

“How about you, Rach?” Lauren asked, a gleaming syringe rolling in her palm. “It’ll put you right back in the game, where you belong.”

“What is this stuff?” I asked. But we’d all been so engrossed in what we were doing that none of us noticed Dylan and Brett had returned to the living room. A shadow fell over us and I glanced up, surprised to see Dylan glaring down.

“Are you effing kidding me?” he asked, grabbing the syringe and leather box from Lauren.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Poe!” she yelled, jumping to her feet and trying to get her drugs back. “Give it back—”

“Don’t call me that!” he said as he handed the stuff to Brett. He leaned closer, grabbing her by the wrists and talking just loud enough for our group to hear. “You’ve just broken two rules and I could get you kicked out. Right now. No one would even ask any questions. You’ve been walking a fine line these past few weeks and I understand why, but this—” He pointed back toward the black box in Brett’s hand. “This is the kind of trouble even I can’t protect you from.”

“You should leave,” Brett said. “Now.”

“Like your party is so much fun! Oh, boohoo, you’re breaking my heart. Come on, girls, let’s go someplace where we’re wanted,” she said. Stephanie and Zoe stood up hesitantly, watching me as if wondering whether they were making the right decision.

“Why do they have to go?” I asked. “Other people were taking stuff. You took her drugs. So let her stay—”

Lauren stuck her face dangerously close to Dylan’s. “See, she doesn’t even remember everything yet and she’s already on my side. Just wait until she remembers. It’s gonna hit the fan then.” She poked him in the chest with her finger.

“You better not get her back on that shit,” he said.

“Hey, both of you.” I stepped between them, pushing them apart. Everyone watched me with stunned expressions, as if I’d just put my hand inside a pit bull’s mouth. “Neither one of you is going to make decisions for me. I don’t even know what that stuff is, but I was obviously taking something.”

I rolled up my left sleeve, showing them and the world the track marks that had faded so much you could barely see them. Dylan and Lauren looked away.

“Fine,” I said. “I’m no angel. None of us are. But if you guys would tell me something—anything—about what’s been going on, I might be able to figure out what happened to me.” I put my finger on Dylan’s chest, surprised by the anger flooding my veins. “And you. Get the hell out of her face.” I lowered my voice until it came out in a threatening rumble. “Nobody touches one of these girls, ever.”

He blinked. I’d hurt him more than if I’d hit him.

“I wasn’t going to hurt her. I’d never do anything like that,” he said, shock and betrayal in his eyes. He took a step away from us, dropping his hold on Lauren’s wrists. “I thought you knew me better than that.” Bitterness crept into his voice then and I realized he could use his gift of words to cut, just as easily as he could use them to seduce. “I thought you remembered me, that tonight you had remembered who we were to each other. But I guess I was just fooling myself. The girl who knew me is gone. Forever.”





Chapter Twenty-Three


The party changed then, all the colors turned gray and black, all the music downbeat and hollow. I knew that the girls and I should have left, but I couldn’t. Dylan sulked away from us, joining the beer pong game in the kitchen and slugging down one beer after another. Before long, all the girls out there started flirting with him, casting an occasional nervous glance back in my direction. My mood changed, sinking lower, deeper, darker.

I’d just had my first date with Dylan—at least the only one I really remembered all the way from beginning to end—and now we’d had a huge fight.

Had we just broken up?

I watched him from the shadows, how his face lit up as he joked with everyone, how he gave a sultry grin to some blond in heels and tight jeans, how Brett joined him and they now competed on opposite teams, laughing, shouting, cheering.

It felt like my mouth was full of dust. His words turned things to gold, mine destroyed them.

“Hey, girl, enough with the sad face.” Lauren took me by the hand and pulled me to my feet. “Don’t you hear the music? This is your song.”

Taylor Swift was singing, something about heartbreak and getting revenge. It felt like her song poured out of my soul. Stephanie and Zoe were already dancing, arms wrapped around boys I didn’t know, and I had a feeling they didn’t know these guys, either. Lauren cocked her head to the side, closed her eyes and started singing the words to the song, pretending she was strumming a banjo. I couldn’t help myself. I laughed.

And I joined the party.

One of the girls handed me another beer and I chugged it down, my dance turning into something more like ballet. I spun on my toes, my movements sensuous and graceful, despite the fast tempo of the music. I flowed from one song to the next—not paying attention to the rest of the crowd. I imagined I was playing the part of the Black Swan, dancing an adagio—slow, lyrical and seductive—waiting for my partner to join me, my steps including plié, arabesque and fouetté en tournant.