Five days was all it took for Ashley to find out Luke was selling ecstasy, not that he was that discrete about it. Luke expected that the knowledge would come from his own admission, but instead fate had other plans.
As the bell rang at Squalicum for the first class of the day, Luke was making a sale to a junior.
“Just open up your bag quickly.” Luke said. “You can put the cash in my pocket. I didn’t see Russ around.”
The junior put fifty dollars in one of Luke’s tight jean pockets. Despite his jeans being a size large, Luke’s massive, muscular thighs made the attire a slightly uncomfortable, cramped fit.
Doesn’t matter, Luke thought. I’ll be able to get like four new pairs this week.
Luke speedily put a sandwich bag with five ecstasy pills in the junior’s backpack. Thinking quickness was his way of being inconspicuous was ironically to Luke’s detriment. Ashley, who had just arrived at school and was going to greet her boyfriend, saw Luke quickly put the bag in the junior’s backpack. Though initially skeptical at what she saw, it was easy to come to realization of what was happening.
That’s not Advil, was the first thought that crossed her mind.
“Did you know?” Cindy asked.
Ryan’s first thought was to lie. But despite having grown to live with his horrible secret over the last six months, Ryan didn’t feel comfortable with the idea of fibbing, especially not to Cindy.
That’s not me. It’s not who I am.
He grabbed his statistics book out of his locker and answered, “Well, yeah - But I’m not - I’m not selling it.” The stammering admission didn’t necessarily make him feel better.
“But you knew though?”
Ryan suddenly felt like he was back in the police interrogation room. “Yeah - but - I mean…” Get it together. He shrugged. “What am I supposed to do? He needs money. Am I supposed to tell him not to?”
“You could have told him to get another job.”
He felt like replying, Not one that paid him $1000 in five days. Then he shook his head. Don’t say that. “He shares a car with his mom. I don’t think he’s in the position to do much.” He put his hand on Cindy’s shoulder, as if to dismiss her worries. “I’m sure this is only temporary.”
Cindy glanced at Ryan’s hand. Her expression made Ryan immediately feel like his tactic had failed.
She responded, “Is selling weed only temporary for you too?”
Damn. “Look,” he began. “If you want me to do something else, just let me know. None of this is permanent. I don’t want to sell for the rest of my life. I’m sure Luke doesn’t want that either.”
Truthfully, Ryan wasn’t sure if what he said was his honest feelings or another attempt at disarming his girlfriend’s concerns. For all the time he planned for his future the summer before high school, a clear vision of where his life should go from here seemed uncertain at best.
The scholarship is still a possibility.
The bell rang for the next class.
Cindy stepped away from Ryan’s touch. “I’ll see you at lunch.”
As she turned to leave, he began to say, “Cindy, I - ”
She was already too far away for her to hear him.
I love you, he thought.
As Ryan watched Cindy disappear into the crowd of students scurrying away to their next class, something caught his attention. At first glance, he nearly missed it, but as he turned back to look, the image was as clear as day. The young boy from his dreams and a mangled, pulverized Frank stood in the center of the sea of students walking. The unblinking stares of the duo focused their gazes on Ryan’s shell-shocked expression.
A voice whispered in Ryan’s head, Please, kid. Don’t kill me.
Ryan closed his eyes. Just stop. Not today. Please.
Cyrus patted Ryan’s back, bringing him back to reality. “Yo! You want to go hook me up with a blunt during lunch?”
Ryan’s first reaction wasn’t to address Cyrus’s question. Instead, he looked back to where he saw the apparitions, but they were no longer there.
It was going to be one of those days.
I’ve been having too many of those…
“Hey!” Cyrus nudged Ryan. “Is that cool?”
The question had gone over Ryan’s head, but he replied, “Sure. Whatever. I have to get to class.” He assumed Cyrus was asking to smoke during lunch.
For most of Ryan’s psychology class, his mind was stuck on the sight of the young boy and Frank. At the start of his hallucinations, Ryan often wrote them off as a phase. That wasn’t to say they did not concern him, but, for some reason, he tried his best to not think about them too much. In a way, they felt natural, like something he experienced his whole life.
Because you have, said one voice. Shut up, replied the other.
As odd as these hallucinations were and despite Ryan knowing better than to write them off, they didn’t feel out of place.
Because they aren’t. You’ve been seeing them for-
“Shut up,” he muttered under his breath, louder than he wanted.
Only the student sitting next to him noticed.
Fuck it. Just ask the question.
Ryan raised his hand.
“Yes, Ryan?” Mrs. Wilson responded.
“Do you think - ” He paused as an image of the football field crossed his mind. “Are we ever going to talk about - “ And then he remembered the classroom door. “PTSD?”
“It is in the curriculum.”
“Could we - ”
Please, kid. Don’t kill me.
“I didn’t mean - ”
The thought of the killing blows pummeled into Frank’s head played like a GIF on loop.
“Ryan?” Mrs. Wilson asked.
“I didn’t mean - ”
“Ryan?”
Now more students were noticing his mutters. They began whispering to each other.
“What’s wrong with him?”
“What’s he saying?”
“Fucking weirdo.”
And Mrs. Wilson asked as she got to his desk, “Ryan?”
Please, kid! Don’t kill me!
Frank’s screams in Ryan’s head absorbed all the other sounds. Its orchestra of pain was reaching its violent crescendo as Ryan remembered Frank’s face caving in graphically from his blows. A part of Ryan wondered if the memory was even true, as all he saw in the act was the color of blood red. But the replication must have been accurate. Frank was unrecognizable by the time he was done. All that was left were slaps of tissue barely connecting to a purple and blackened bruised face bleeding profusely.
As Ryan was about to break down and cry, his inner voice reminded him not to. You need to come back.
Mrs. Wilson stood over Ryan, about to touch his shoulder, when he finally broke through back to reality.
“Never-mind.” Ryan replied. “I - I think I might be a little light headed. Maybe dehydrated. Can I go get some water?”
The teacher studied him curiously before answering, “Yeah. Yes. Of course.”
So he got up to leave.
As Ryan made his way into the bathroom, he felt a level of intensity he imagined was only reserved for people on the brink of a heart attack. His heart too was beating so fast and loud, he was sure people passing by could hear it.
Once in the bathroom, Ryan hid in a stall and slammed the door shut. From his observations, no one was around, but even if someone was, he didn’t care. He did his best to control his breathing, but his world felt like it was running out of air.
“I didn’t mean…” He breathed deeply several times. “I didn’t mean…” Then he slapped himself. “Snap the fuck out of it!” He slapped himself again, harder. “Snap out of it!”
He punched the bathroom stall’s door with all his strength, leaving it with a deep indent.
“Yo!” A voice called. “Chill the fuck out!”
Ryan began to see red again. He swung the stall door open. Frankie, one of the wrestlers Ryan sold to regularly, was washing his hands. As soon as he saw Ryan, his expression changed immediately to one of regret.
“Oh shit!’ Frankie exclaimed. “Ryan! I didn’t realize that was you in - ”
Ryan grabbed Frankie by his shirt and slammed him against the nearest wall.
“Ryan! What the - ”
“Did you know what you did to her?!” Ryan yelled. “Did you know what you did?!”
“Yo! What the fuck are you talking about?! Chill the fuck out!”
It took a moment for it to dawn on Ryan who he was talking to. For the last twenty or so seconds, all he felt was murderous rage and all he could see was what he assumed anger would like if it were a color. As regret began to wash over him, Ryan gently released Frankie from his hold.
Fuck. Ryan thought. What am I supposed to say? “I -”
“What the fuck, man?! Whatever the fuck that shit you just pulled is, its not funny!” Frankie didn’t bother to dry his hands. He immediately left the bathroom.
As much as Ryan wanted to apologize for his actions and not lose a consistent customer, he knew that it was better this way.
Who would understand me?
In Cindy and Ashley’s calculus class, the teacher, Mr. Woodruff was dozing off as the students watched a video on the projector. Some students used the opportunity to take naps themselves while others took notes or gossiped. Cindy and Ashley fell into the later category.
“I’m sorry.” Cindy said sincerely.
All Ashley could think about since the morning was Luke selling ecstasy. It made her feel fluctuating states of anger and disappointment, often in confusing, short cycles. “I can’t believe he’d do something so fucking stupid. I knew he was getting careless, but - fuck. I didn’t realize he’d go this low.”
“I suppose it could be worse?” Cindy knew the statement held little chance of uplifting her friend, but she wasn’t sure what else to say.
“How? Luke isn’t smart enough to know if what he’s selling is cut with something else. We’ve all heard the horror stories about people ODing on bad drugs. What if someone gets hurt? What if someone dies?”
Ashley’s words reminded Cindy of a freshman who recently was arrested. The details were vague to the public, but most people knew the important details; a kid named Henry took three laced ecstasy pills and died within five minutes. Apparently, he had enough fentanyl in his system to kill a dozen people.
She’s right. Cindy thought. It could be that bad. “I mean, maybe he needs you to tell him that? Maybe he hasn’t thought about all this?”
“I saw him selling in the fucking open. Does he or Ryan not care who knows?”
The mention of her boyfriend threw Cindy off-guard. “Ryan says he’s not involved.”
“Yeah, sure.”
The pointedness of the dry sarcasm sparked a little flame. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Come on. Don’t act stupid. Just because you’re dating a drug dealer doesn’t mean you aren’t smart. You used to be the quiet girl with braces who got straight A’s. You know what I mean.”
Cindy understood what she meant, but it didn’t validate the passive aggressive behavior. Blaming Ryan for what Luke was doing wasn’t right.
“Well,” Cindy started after a moment, “I’m not the only person dating a drug dealer now.”
As soon as the tears started developing in the corners of Ashley’s eyes, Cindy felt regret for what she said. The temporary satisfaction gained from barking back at Ashley’s attitude was fleeting.
Just as Cindy was about to apologize, Ashley began, “Fuck. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to - it’s just - if my parents find out… I’ve tried convincing my mom that I made the right decision dating him. Now I just - ” Ashley looked like she wanted to continue, but nothing came out.
“No, I get it.” Cindy replied. “I’m sorry I snapped.”
“Shhhh!”
Cindy and Ashley turned their attention to Mr. Woodruff. He stared at them with his tired, squinty eyes behind his glasses, pointing at the projector. The rest of the conversation would have to wait until lunch, giving Ashley plenty of time to think about our relationship.
October 5th, 2012 was the day Ashley and Luke’s relationship began. It was raining heavily that night which wasn’t unusual, but not ideal for a high school football game. Squalicum’s the Storm was playing against their neighborhood rivals, Barclay High School’s the BayHawks. With fifteen seconds left in the fourth quarter, the scores were 17 for Storm and 22 for Bayhawks.
The day held significance for not only being Luke’s first time being intimate with Ashley, but also his first Varsity game, despite being a sophomore. Even with Luke’s 6’3” height, muscular frame, and impressive athletic skills, he wasn’t the second string running back for his blessed physique or talents. The politics of high school football would never allow a sophomore to climb the ranks so fast, but the original second string halfback blew out his knee in a prior game and Storm needed a quick replacement. So there Luke was, on the sidelines of a dirty, wet field surrounded by cheering and booing spectators.
Ashley’s presence at the game wasn’t earned primarily through luck, but hard work. As a sophomore cheerleader, she, like Luke, was also expected to only perform for Junior Varsity games. But because she was one of the only girls capable of performing some of the more difficult cheers, her ascendance to the Varsity squad was well earned. The years of being a competitive gymnastics kid had paid off well, even though her mom attributed the success to her donations and Ashley’s looks.
No. I earned that. Screw what she thinks.
The crowds were on the edge of their seats as Storm’s first string halfback was taken off the field. His arm was visibly broken. Ashley, despite trying not to look, remembered the image of a protruding bone sticking out of the player’s forearm. The sight became the hot topic amongst the cheerleaders as Storm took a time-out.
“Oh my god,” exclaimed one cheerleader. “Did you see how it’s sticking out of his arm?”
“Made me want to throw up,” commented another.
The first one teased, “You keeping your eyes on your man, Ashley?”
The second chimed in, “It’s not like her eyes have been anywhere else.”
Ashley’s crush on Luke was well known to many people in her circle at that point. They had known each other for years, though their presences had only crossed at a handful of parties and gatherings. Luke was a big flirt and girls loved his attention, which made Ashley’s attempts at engaging with him frustrating.
“Sure you’re not like the third girl on his list?” The first cheerleader continued to tease.
Ashley paid no attention to her squad. Her eyes were glued to the field.
This is it, she thought. They’re going to put him in.
“It’s time.” Storm’s offensive coach said next to a sixteen year old Luke. The coach’s eyes didn’t even address the boy. They stared out into the field like defeat was all, but assured. It didn’t help that the first string running back was his nephew. “Get in there.”
Disbelief was the first thing Luke felt when his play time came. As he jogged to the center of the field, the world felt unreal. It wasn’t that anything visually necessarily changed, but he couldn’t feel himself. Whoever he was in that moment was foreign. This wasn’t who he knew himself as, despite knowing it’s what he wanted.
Luke huddled around his teammates. Though he was taller than some of them, his baby face stuck out like a sore thumb. It didn’t help the morale amongst a few of his teammates. The line of scrimmage was about 90 yards away from the goal. While odds were stacked against Storm, surprisingly, Luke remained quietly optimistic.
There’s been worse situations where teams have won. Then Luke saw Joe, the quarterback, and thought differently. Oh shit.
“What’s the play Joe?” Asked the center guard.
“Uh - ” Joe’s eyes blinked hard before opening up widely, as if the act would help him remember. “Shit…” It didn’t.
“Are you telling me you fuckin’ forgot?!” The tight end asked.
“Uh - no - uh -”
“What the fuck is goin’ on with you?!”
One of the tackles shoved the tight end. “Isaac’s arm just got broken! He’s clearly out of it!”
A wide receiver chimed in, “Yo, that shit was nasty, dog.”
“Yeah! That’s why we need a goddamn play!”
Suddenly, the quarterback seemed to have his composure back. “Look! I’ll pass to Chris. Just cover my fucking ass, okay?! We got a lot of yards to cover if we want to win. Just watch my sides.”
The players nodded. Not all of them appeared optimistic, but the plan was better than nothing.
“Break!”
Everyone lined up on the line of scrimmage. Luke assumed his halfback position. He knew the play wasn’t good. It was barely a play at all, but he was ready to give it everything he could. The Bayhawks lined up against them.
The quarterback called, “Blue 42! Blue 42!” A moment passed and then, “Hut!”
In a blink of an eye, the offensive and defensive line ran into each other in a violent collusion of brute force, trying to hold or push back the line of scrimmage. It only took a few short seconds for the defensive line to break through.
As the quarterback drew back to throw the ball to an open receiver, an inside linebacker tackled him to the ground like a freight train going full speed. The impact made the QB fumble the ball and later send him to the ER.
An outside linebacker reached for the ball as it bounced several times on the field. Just as his fingertips touched it, Luke rushed in and snatched it. He narrowly avoided being tackled by another linebacker as he sprinted full speed.
Ashley cheered from the sidelines as did the other cheerleaders and Storm’s crowd. With less than ten seconds remaining, Storm could still win the game.
A free safety sprinting after Luke, narrowly closing the cap.
Fuck! He’s fast. Luke thought.
The safety grabbed Luke’s jersey, nearly taking him down to the ground. Luke’s feet almost gave out from under him. Storm’s crowd roared with support while others booed.
Ashley yelled, “No! Come on!’
Luke drove through his feet, like he was trying to run while dragging hundreds of pounds. The effort made him feel like his quads and hamstrings were going cramp, but he pushed through. He muscled his way out of the Safety’s grip and continued running as fast as he could. Everyone, besides the out of commission QB, trailed behind him.
The countdown on the timer ticked to the last couple of seconds. Just as Luke was several yards away from making a touchdown, a strong safety grabbed his ankle. Using his free leg, Luke jumped as hard as he could towards the end zone. The ball barely touched it.
I did it.
Someone yelled, “Touchdown!”
Storm’s crowd erupted in celebratory joy including Ashley. All of Luke’s uninjured teammates rushed to the field to congratulate him. The scoreboard’s final tally was 23-22.
As the teammates hoisted Luke on their shoulders to show off the game’s star player, Luke and Ashley exchanged a look. Despite being dozens of yards away from each other, both saw what they wanted. It was like a scene in a cheesy sports movie.
Coincidently, once the game was over and Storm’s hype of winning died down, the rain stopped.
Luke approached Ashley. His helmet was off, revealing his wet, flat hair which somehow suited him despite making most boys look like dunces. As he walked, he took his shoulder pads off leaving him with a tight, compression shirt that highlighted his muscular frame.
“Hi,” he said to her.
“Hi,” she said back.
Their eyes briefly locked, staring at each other for several exciting moments.
He looked downwards, almost like he was nervous. “You know, I’ve been meaning to say something to you.”
“Uh-huh. What’s that?”
“Well, um - just that - ” His eyes met hers again. “You’re the prettiest girl in town.”
The comment made her blush. “Really?”
“If I don’t ask you out, I’m going to feel like a complete idiot.”
“I guess after a game like that you could ask anyone out.”
“Just you.”
The football game was how the romance started, or at least how Ashley liked to think so. Any of their interactions prior didn’t matter. This was the spark that ignited their relationship that quickly led to them fooling around in Luke’s mom’s car.
Throughout the rest of the school day, Ashley thought about the relationship from its start to where it was now, barely paying attention to any of her classes and remaining disengaged from social interactions.
The following couple of years since the football game were mainly a gradual decline from intense infatuation to the slightly mundane and complicated relationship they now shared.
The beginning was reminiscent of a honeymoon, like the start of most relationships, and the memories Ashley latched on to the most. Holding hands in school their sophomore and most of their junior year warmed her heart in ways other things could not. Only lately had the occasional embraces seemed forced or slightly irritating.
There were plenty of simple, but somehow worthwhile dates, whether that was just going to a movie or grabbing dinner at a place Luke could afford.
For the most part, Luke excelled at football. Like Ryan, a scholarship for his sport seemed assured. Watching Luke win games and make big plays almost gave Ashley the same feelings of excitement and titillation she felt the first time Luke played a big game. Up until senior year, Luke’s scholarship seemed like a done deal. But Storm had a rough season, only winning three out of the ten games they played.
Sex came quickly in the relationship, as both were intensely drawn to their physiques. They were aware of their attractiveness and status. Unlike some of the more primal positions many of their friends talked about, Ashley and Luke’s sex seemed more intimate, at least for a while. It wasn’t necessarily just for surface level pleasure, but as a way to draw themselves closer to their worlds.
The good times stayed more or less the same up until the summer before senior year. Truthfully, Ashley couldn’t pin-point the exact moment the relationship began to lose its significance. If anything, it seemed like it was a slow process in the making. As their status as the king and queen of Squalicum rose, so did other annoying behaviors.
There were signs that things were going awry, whether that was from Luke drinking more often or him opting to spend more time with his football player friends to engage in frat boy like behavior. Some of it was expected; Luke was a jock afterall, but the rambunctiousness was always balanced by his sincerity for his relationship.
Not anymore though.
Times were different. Drinking and partying was more common, football games were won just as much as they were lost, and sex felt more like a sporting event than genuine connection.
Ashley remembered early on in the relationship her mother telling her, “If you marry him, you’ll be poor just his family.”
Initially, the comment disgusted Ashley. Her mother didn’t work. She just lived off the success of her husband. Growing up well off, Ashley never considered the value of money. Money was just always there. It didn’t mean much when it came to relationships. While Ashley’s parents weren’t divorced, it felt like they may have well been. Her father, a successful yacht broker, spent most of his time in Mercer island where he owned a second home. As such, Ashley never felt that close to her father. He would just show up when he needed to and say the necessary things like, “I love you, sweetie!... You’re my little angel… I hope you’re doing well.”
With the notion that high school was about to end, Ashley couldn’t help, but think about the future. Would it include Luke?... Where will we be in five years?... Will he have his shit together?
Ashley didn’t mind the idea of living with less than she grew up with, but she knew she wasn’t going to settle for poverty or whatever direction Luke was drifting towards.
Maybe mom had a point.
The last time Luke and Ashley had sex confirmed that the relationship had taken a sharp turn. After their friends dropped them from a party, a drunken Luke and a less drunk Ashley began fooling around. In the past, Luke would have taken his time before entering her, whether that be from his fingers rubbing her clit as he kissed her neck or his hands propping her legs so his tongue could lick it. But tonight, he rushed to take his and her clothes off before taking her from the back. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy the position. Often, it was easier to get her off that way, but the hurried actions left with an emotional disconnect from the situation.
She could feel his warm sweat fall on her backside and his half erect whiskey dick stroke in and out.
God, he’s not even hard, she thought.
Headlights from her mother’s BMW X5 shined through Ashley’s bedroom window. Ashley assumed Luke would take it as a sign to hide until her mother went to bed. Instead, he continued on, pounding the backside of his girlfriend.
“Luke.” Ashley said softly.
He kept going. “Yeah, baby?” His words were slurred.
“Luke,” she said again, hoping he’d take the hint.
He didn’t stop.
“My fucking parents are home!”
That did it. He rolled himself off of her, just as he climaxed, staining Ashley’s sheets and cumming on himself.
“Fuck!” Luke yelled.
As Ashley laid in her bed with Luke’s sweat and juices running down her body, a part of her wished her mom would come in and see her. She hoped her mom would come in and yell and scream that the relationship was over. She hoped her mom would shoo away Luke and forbid him from ever coming back. At least that would take away Ashley’s responsibility to end things.
As the night carried on, Ashley’s mother never came to her daughter’s bedroom and Luke fell asleep on the floor, snoring loudly. Ashley didn’t bother to change or clean herself until the morning. She fell asleep, thinking about the future.
What the fuck is happening?
The bell rang for the end of the day. Ashley’s thoughts about the past subsided, giving way to the realities of her present.
Where is he?
Outside, near the front entrance of the school, Luke handed a sandwich bag with several ecstasy pills to a couple of attractive freshmen. To Luke’s credit, he thought they were sophomores.
Whatever. Money’s money. He flashed them a grin as they gave him fifty bucks. “Make sure you tell your friends.”
One of them blushed.
As they left, Luke started counting the money, something he knew he should have done first.
Well, at least it’s all there.
Suddenly, someone shoved him.
“What the fuck - ”
It was Ashley. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”
Observing her expression, Luke had seen her look before. Being shoved and yelled at by her weren’t foreign actions, but they still pissed him off .
“What’s your problem?” He asked.
“You’re selling ecstasy!”
“Shhhh!” He put a finger over her lip. “Don’t say that so loud.”
She pushed away his hand. “You’re selling by the front entrance of the school!”
“By the bushes!”
“Are you really that stupid?”
“I’m actually trying to make a little money! I figured maybe I can actually give you some of those things your mother always complains I don’t give you.”
“I don’t give a shit about any of those things!”
Luke eyed her gold necklace hanging around her neck. He knew it was only one of about a dozen her parents had given her. “Sure.”
Ashley put a hand on her necklace, almost hiding it under her shirt.
Luke continued, “If you have a problem with me dealing, maybe you need to look at our friends.”
“Our friends can do whatever the fuck they want and deal with the consequences. But you and me – since when you did you start selling drugs anyway? What the hell happened with focusing on school and football?”
Despite her anger, Luke could sense something else beneath the surface. Sadness, he thought. Disappointment too. They were emotions he could easily relate to.
“Look,” he touched her shoulders delicately. “I am focused on that. I want good opportunities. But more than likely I’m going to community college. Unless I can save up enough money to get into a decent college, I’m just going to be another nobody.”
She backed away so his hands fell off her shoulders. For some reason, the cold rejection in her eyes made him feel an overwhelming amount of anger. His father’s voice whispered in his head, Bitch.
“You think selling ecstasy is going to get you ahead?” Her question sounded more like a hurtful remark, though it wasn’t intentional.
Luke couldn’t tell. Again his father’s voice said, Bitch.
“At least I’m trying!” He yelled. “You accuse me of being directionless, but we’re not all born with a silver spoon in our mouths!”
“You’re being an idiot! This just makes you seem even more directionless and unsure of what you want.”
Bitch!
“Quit being such a bitch to me!”
Some students turned their heads in the direction of Ashley and Luke’s conversation, expressing their concern and disapproval. For a moment Luke felt the whole world had witnessed the argument. Shame and regret immediately began replacing the anger he felt.
“Ashley… I’m -”
On the verge of tears, Ashley ran away.
“Ashley!” He called out. “I’m sorry!”
But she kept running.
Luke did not mean to call her a “bitch”. His anger caused his impulsiveness. Like most scenarios where his anger got the best of him, Luke found himself in a familiar state.
Now you’re the bad guy…
His father’s voice chimed in, You should feel good.
“Shut up, old man,” he muttered to himself.
Luke liked Ashley, possibly even more than liked. But whatever that feeling was, whether it was love or intense lust, was something undecided. Love was a foreign concept, something he felt like he hadn’t really experienced and had no frame of reference for.
He felt like running after her, but in his short moments of reflecting on his actions, she was already gone.
“You dumb son-of-bitch.” He muttered to himself.
As Ashley cried in Mercedes-Benz that her father gifted her on her 16th birthday, she wished the world would give her a distraction from the pain she was feeling. She did not care what it was, but just something else; something that would take her mind off what happened.
Something maybe a little reckless.
Her cellphone rang. She wiped away the runny mascara from her face with her shirt’s sleeve and answered. “Hi, Alyssa.”
“There’s a party tonight. Want to come?”
“A party?” That would be a good distraction. “Where?”
“It’s supposed to be massive!” Alyssa sounded excited.
Alyssa’s tone drew in Ashley’s curiosity, but, If it’s massive there’s a possibility that Luke might go. “Is it a high school party?”
“Oh no,” Alyssa said confidently. “This - this is going to be huge.”
Little did Ashley or Alyssa know that the party in question was the infamous “Block Party”, an event that would become the subject of local news for weeks, albeit for all the wrong reasons.