Lightops

deeneronikyu

Part II: B is for Beauty

I closed the door to Trollo's room. Technically, it was completely off-limits during parties, especially to relatively unknown guests, such as the lovely Vanessa, but I knew Trollo wouldn't care if he caught me - I had a feeling he'd forgive the presence of Vanessa. Trollo and me - we had a long history of forgiving the misdeeds we had committed against each other in the name of getting laid. Our system wasn't exactly 'bros before hos' but it wasn't 'hos before bros,' either: 'bros are the hos' seemed to fit the bill pretty well.

"You know Trollo?" Still holding Vanessa arm, I gently ushered her towards the bed. She seemed to take it suspiciously fast. If I were as cute as her, in a party as foreign as this, I wouldn't be so trusting of a stranger's bed. Then again, why am I complaining? It wasn't like I wanted her to resist or give me a hard time - no, I'm too easily discouraged by such behavior.

Vanessa shook her head, looking around. The drunken glaze over her eyes was still evident, though she was looking considerably less stoned than when we had first been introduced. "No,"

I tried to help job her memory. "The fat gay kid. The one who's throwing the party." When she still seemed to fail to pull a face from memory, I pulled on my last resource: "The one wearing the black wife beater with a big ol' tattoo of some random Chinese shit on his arm. It kind of jiggles when he plays beer pong."

"Oh, him! Ok, yeah. What about him?"

"This is his room." Sitting down at his computer desk's unnaturally comfortable office chair, I whisked around and immediately began poking around in his drawers. "We're pretty much best friends. We were the gay kids in high school - I mean, that's a bond that doesn't die easily."

"You're gay?" Vanessa's inquiry was the appropriate response. Her tone was neither suspicious or disbelieving or giddy or really anything other than purely informative. It honestly sounded like she just wanted to confirm what she had heard, her manner relaxed by her intoxication.

I smirked, but I was still facing away from her looking through Trollo's drawers so she didn't see it. My only hope was that she heard it. "Guilty." I paused for a second before I found what I was looking for. "Ah! Here it is." Turning around, I proudly displayed my rummaged goods - between my index and middle finger was a small, transparent ziplock baggie a quarter filled with a familiar white powder. I made the short trip to sit next to her on the bed. "This'll wake you up. So little Vanessa, how do feel about cocaine?"

She laughed - halfway nervously, halfway amused. "Are you serious?"

"Once again, guilty." I grabbed Trollo's little mirror he kept at his bedside for just such an occasion as this, and laid it down flat on the bed between Vanessa and I. Ideally, cocaine should be snorted off a mirror - or a guitar - or a book - or really anything level and classy (like the bare back of a shirtless vixen, just a fantasy of mine). A mirror was just classic: if you're going to do a drug, you might as well give yourself a real good look in the eye before taking it. A complimentary shot of the inside of your nostrils didn't hurt either. "You don't have to do a lot. Like, I'll make you a really small line to start out with."

"Um, well-" Vanessa was about to object to something, but I wasn't going to have any of that. I knew what they were teaching kids in school these days about drugs - especially 'hard' drugs like cocaine - it seemed like just yesterday I was sitting there watching an anti-drug presentation. The truth is, there is hardly a lesson in life you can't learn from the proper use and administration of illicit drugs. Moderation, finances, discretion, elation, perspective, acceptance of the unknown, fear and expectation management are just a few of the essential life lessons that drugs have versed me well in.

"What is it with kids these days?" I jokingly mused as I found the rusted razor in my wallet I used to smooth out the coke with. I might as well play the 'old geezer' routine with this girl, even though I was probably not even an entire three years older than her. "When I was a kid, we had to go out and find the drugs ourselves. When it was offered, we took it and shut up."

She giggled, but I could tell she was still uneasy. I stopped cutting up the coke for a second and looked at her, smiling my warmest smile. "Seriously, I'll give you such a small amount, you'll feel more awake and that's about it. It won't even be enough to feel the come down, if you don't want. I know what I'm doing. We don't know each other that well, so I don't want to ask you to trust me... but yeah. Trust me, ok?"

She shrugged; if that's the best I was going to get, I'll take it. Even before I had brought her up here, I new I had the persuasive upper hand. Deep down, everyone wants to try cocaine. Just once, just to see what they're missing, just for the right to say that it wasn't worth the hype. When you're young and just out of high school, like my little miss Vanessa, you've taught yourself to suppress that curiosity. However, given the judgment relaxation of alcohol, the recent memory of smoking it up with your brother and a no-strings attached offer from a seemingly amicable stranger, those barriers begin to break down; I wouldn't have let her say no.

I finished off separating the lines in silence. Vanessa was watching me in my craft, a bit more intensely than I would have liked, but I suppose for her there was nothing else to do. Delivering as promised, I had separated the coke into three lines - two modest lines for myself and one itty one for Vanessa. I set down my razor on the desk and looked at her, signaling that it was time. "Have you ever snorted anything before?"

She shook her head. I felt a bit bullyish about pushing her into it. It wasn't guilt per se, but I knew I was abusing my power over her. Here she was, taking my words and my drugs with barely any words. I liked the feeling.

"Alright, then, a quick primer." Once again turning around to pillage poor Trollo's desk, I pulled out a fifty-dollar bill and proceeded to roll it up into a tight tube. "Traditionally, you want to find the biggest dollar you can get. I mean, I've used ones and fives before, but that's only if you're desperate. At least use a twenty." I managed to hear a mumbled little 'okay' before I continued. "You roll it like....like so... I mean... I - I guess the rest is pretty much as you'd expect. You place it towards your nostril of choice, plug the other one and inhale. Just like that, like cake. One important note - remember to keep inhaling once you stop, never blow out. Even if it feels kind of funny. This stuff is usually pretty smooth, though. Here, watch." And without further ado, I leaned down and performed the task exactly as I had described. Even after my line was finished off, I leaned back and continued inhaling, trying to get the last of the dust from the inside of my nose.

When I was done, I looked at Vanessa, who had followed orders and been watching me; she looked amused. "You get all of that?" I asked half serious, half jokingly. "Here, let me do the other so you can get another look." So I rinsed and repeated, inhaling through the other nostril this time. Call me particular, but if I don't even out the sides it feels awfully unfair. Afterwards, I felt myself reaching out to hand her the rolled up fifty before I even looked at her. Habit. "Your turn."

Vanessa took it shyly, almost a bit guiltily. I wanted her to hurry up, because I was feeling the effects of my lines and I was ready to do something, or at the very least get something to wash down the drip. I didn't mention the drip to Vanessa because she would find out eventually anyway. "Yeah, just do what I did."

I watched her like she had been watching me only seconds earlier. She really was beautiful, naturally so. There was nothing forced in her features, nothing primitive in her movement. Although she must have been having second doubts, she showed no signs of hesitation as she proceeded to inhale the thin line I had drawn up for her. I couldn't help but notice her give a dignified look at herself in the mirror, a sign of a dedicated drunk. As the sounds of her snorting filled the room, I knew I was way too satisfied with the entire situation. It was almost sick how much I was enjoying myself; but I didn't care and that's why I was enjoying myself. She needed to snort that faster, the drip tasted really bad.

She announced the completion of her task with a satisfied little "That wasn't so bad."

"No, it's not. You want some more?"

"Now?"

"Now. Well-" I swallowed. "After some water. You want to get it while I make the lines?"

As my darling did as she was told, I diligently continued to work towards putting out more lines for Vanessa and I. This time, she got two, both a mite thicker than her previous one. The back of my nose and throat were getting numb and the drip was nasty as could be, but I couldn't push aside the feeling of great contentment as I finished up the lines just as Vanessa walked in with water. She looked at the lines and smiled, a sort of intimidated yet grateful smile. "That bathroom was nasty. It had been cleaned about forever ago." She paused and put down the water. "I feel kind of less drunk. Is that... that's the coke, right?"

I nodded. "Very much so. Now I'm going to be the gentleman and let you go first." I handed her the rolled up fifty. "M'dear, if you please?"

With a cute little nod in my directly, Vanessa received my gift and proceeded with her task. I couldn't help but notice increase in command in her movement; she now help a determination of some sort that I felt had only partially to do with the drugs. I wasted little time in gulping down a few swigs of the newly acquired water. The drip was something I could never get used to, it was something I could never 'ignore' from frequency. It was also relatively impossible to get rid of. A bit of water here, a bit of jager there and maybe some chips could only provide temporary release.

Before I could finish reflecting on how unpleasant the drip was, Vanessa was done and looking at me, holding out the rolled up money, and looking at me expectantly. She was still inhaling, a slight pained look on her face. "That... that was harsher than the first. And my throat tastes nasty."

"The Drip." I tried to sound professional and nonchalant about it. "Think of it as your brain's precum. By the way, you're about to feel a lot less drunk."

"Well good. Pass the-" I was already shoving it into her hand as I prepared to take in my two lines. "-water, thanks."

It was just as I was finishing up when the door burst open - loudly - and a very drunken looking Trollo crashed through the door. He caught me with my finger still plugging up my right nostril, the rolled up fifty in my hand, and the very clear evidence of coke on the mirror between me and Vanessa. I must have looked hella guilty.

"If I'm not mistaken, it looks as though my dyke is-" Inhale. "-in my room with some ho," Inhale. "-doing my drugs, stealing my water," Inhale. "-and snotting on my fifty?" Trollo was a loud person. It was one of his better points. Luckily, he had caught my sins against him while he was in his 'happy, forgiving' stage of drunk. It was somewhere after his competitive stage, and before his emotional stage. "Bitch."

"Trollo meet Vanessa." I handed him the fifty, hoping an invite to be involved in my illicit activities with his drugs would smooth over his fake anger.

"Excuse me." Trollo took the fifty and shooed me off his chair. "I thought I made it clear I didn't want your hos in my room." Inhale. "Last time, it smelled like lesbian sex in here for a week. I had to sleep downstairs." Inhale. "It was fucking awful." There was a noticeably pause as Trollo examined his little baggy of coke. "Jesus Christ, how much of this did you use?"

Without waiting for me to answer, Trollo hit his mp3 player and trance music started to play desperately loud. It was loud enough to feel through the floors, and conversation could only continue by yelling at the tops of our lungs. By this time, however, I was getting a really good feeling about the entire situation, and yelling didn't seem like a big deal. In fact, it pumped me up a bit. "You have horrible taste in music. I still remember last year when you tried to take me to that gay club on Halloween and the drag queens started coming in on parade. It wasn't even, like, professional drag queens. Just these high school fucking wannabes, waltzing in with their high heels, wigs and glitter mixed with bile and semen and shit! they were all so drunk. We were all so drunk. But the music was horrible. No amount of alcohol that night could have made that music better."

Trollo wasn't really paying attention. I figured it was likely due to the fact that he was prepping his own lines. But I wanted attention, and I wanted to talk; I turned to Vanessa. "You feeling it yet?"

"Oh yeah," She rubbed her nose in a characteristically coke-head way. It was adorable, and I wanted to hug her for it. Luckily, I found it within my bones to restrain myself. Instead and moved myself closer to her on the bed, halfway hoping she thought it was to hear each other better, halfway hoping she realized I just wanted to be closer.

I leaned in so my mouth as inches away from her ear. For a brief second, I inhaled the world and she just happened to come with it. Being a few hours into her partying experience, already acquainted with the alcohol, weed and coke, she wasn't smelling her best. There was a natural human scent about her, salty and rustic, but it wasn't unpleasant; it suited her. "So tell me about college. Where you going? What're you gonna study, the works. Come on."

She laughed a bit. I couldn't tell if it was because she realized how little I cared or because the thought of fighting Trollo's loud music with her standard college talk was a bit comical. These were the types of questions your parents' friends ask you to avoid awkward silences, not when you're at a party, doing drugs, yelling at the top of your lungs to a lesbian who quite likely wants to get in your pants. I had to laugh along with her. "I'm going to study American History. I want to be a teacher. Not for like little kids or anything, or even middle schoolers. I want - high school teachers have the best deal as far as teachers go. I want to teach American History to high schoolers, hopefully in some posh neighborhood where all of the bad eggs I have to deal with are the kids who skip to smoke pot in the bathrooms. Like my brother."

"But not you, huh? You were - were you one of the good kids? All the teachers liked you?"

"Oh, I totally was. Totally was. Still am - despite how you're seeing me now. Because - I'm not just all about the alcohol and the drugs. I'm a good girl. I do my chores, have a part-time job, do my homework. Teachers do like me. I have my shit together."

"Famous last words," I laughed and she laughed. Sadly, I was dead serious deep inside. I guess I was a little jealous at her goals. Where she still had dreams and ambitions and a chance to succeed, I had my bag of dope, no girlfriend, and no future.

It was Trollo's time to bust in our conversation, now that he had swiftly consumed some drugs of his own. I was actually a little impressed that he was able to hear it over his techno. "Don't be jealous, baby. In a few years, she's be a washed up mess just like us." Inhale, and an intentional pause. "Oh LAWD this is good coke." With no explanation, Trollo hit his mp3 player again and the music turned off. Even with the chaos and noise of the party downstairs, it seemed uncomfortably quiet. "Sarah, you look so horny, my god."

I should have been embarrassed, and couldn't give a reason for why I wasn't. "Thank you for letting me know. And Vanessa. Yeah, she... she needed to know that. Because penguins are the only creatures on earth that get laid less frequently than me."

"Penguins?" It was both Trollo and Vanessa and piped in at the same time.

I nodded. "Fucking penguins. They get one partner. You know, until the cold kills it for the dolphins or killer whales. Or something. I saw something about it. It was depressing. But not as depressing as my love life. I..." I noticed I was getting blank stares. The chances I was spouting gibberish was quite high. "Fuck my life, you know what? Fuck it. I'm pretty sure we have this conversation at least once a day."

"At least." Trollo confirmed.

"At least," Was my reply. It wasn't exactly crafty, but it suited my purpose well enough.

"Well don't stop on account of me," This was Vanessa speaking. She looked strangely comfortable. For some reason, I had thought that hearing about a virtual stranger's love life would make things a little awkward for her - especially since it may or may not be obvious to the extent that the said stranger would like to involve her in that love life - but then again, I was probably overthinking things. She was drunk, high. In a state not too different from myself.

Trollo rolled his eyes. He looked hammered. "Didn't even fucking plan on it sister. Sistaa..." He let out an epic belch. "But as long as we're dishing out the TMI, you should know-" Inhale. "-know that I masturbated last night on that bed and totally didn't clean up. You're kind of sitting on it.'

"Ew, oh my god-" Vanessa jumped up, alarmed, looking around where she was sitting on the bed for the characteristic whiteness of a good time spent alone. There was nothing.

Trollo laughed loudly. "I mean, it's under the covers. But it's there. Trust me, you can look."

Vanessa shook her head, not making any movements to reclaim her spot next to me on the bed. "That's OK. I don't feel like sitting, anyway."

The three of us looked at each other, and it was suddenly known the next course of action.

I raised my fist to the air. "To the alcohol!"

"The alcohol!" Vanessa followed suit, smirking at me in a way that made me want to eat her up.

Trollo burped again. "To the drinking games!"

---

Don't do drugs.

Alone.