madi would you mind telling me how much this sucks?

Chapter 7: Summer 2023

As soon as summer truly began, I was never without Preston. All of my time was spent with him, and I’d even taken to sleeping at his house. It his arms, I felt safe, and perfect, and he treated me like the princess I never thought I’d be. Always, his hands were lingering on my hips, or on my waist, while his lips were resting on my shoulders. He was perfect. Almost like my own personal angel, he saved me from the hell that had become my home life, and pulled me back onto my feet. He was my oxygen, and I quickly realized that I’d do just about anything for him. I lost track of the amount of nights I would spend laying on Preston’s floor, my head in his lap as he and Bronx would smoke. Weed had always been their favorite, and it seemed to be the most accessible to them. Sometimes, Bronx would pass the blunt to Jamie, who would almost eagerly take it.

Personally, I’d never been into drugs. I’d seen the way they affected people. Now that I’m older, I understand that my mother is an addict, and it’s led me to hate the drugs. Or at least, it had until the first time that I’d been with Preston when he’d gotten high. Preston, like my parents, was entirely different when he was high, but unlike them, he would be even more divine. His lips would turn up in an uncharacteristic smile, making him look like he was entirely happy. So at peace. And it was because of this that the first time he ever offered it to me, I’d accepted. Saying that I hated it would be a complete lie, it was quite the opposite, really. I’d loved it. It made me feel giddy, everything that Preston said was beautiful and perfect. And when he touched me, I felt even more complete than normal, something I hadn’t thought possible before now. However, it wasn’t just weed that they were into. They also liked the appeal of the harder drugs. Soon, pills were taking dominance over weed.

For the most part, I stayed away from the pills. A couple of times, I found myself allowing Preston to slip one of the little white tablets into my mouth. Usually whenever I’d gotten into a fight with my mother and Preston implied that I needed a good distraction. He’d always slip his hands into mine, assuring me that the pills would make me feel better, less tense even. Usually, of course, he was right. It would never take too long after I swallowed the pills to start to feel better. In fact, it was always just a few minutes until I would feel lighter, happier, a feeling that would always get me to press my lips into Preston’s and smile wide.

When we were alone, Preston and I were perfect. His hands always knew how to find that perfect spot on the small of my back, the spot that would make me shiver and curl against him. He was gentile in the best of ways, but he didn’t treat me like I would break. He knew how to kiss me, and how to keep me from being upset. With him, the nightmares that sometimes plagued my dreams went away. Curled against his chest at night, my dreams were always pleasant.

However, when we weren’t alone, things didn’t feel as right. Those long summer days that we would spend alongside Bronx and Jamie would leave me with a sick, queasy feeling in my stomach. There was something about the way that Preston looked at Bronx that made me just want to throw up. It was that look of utter longing. I knew that on his mind were those days where it was Bronx holding him the way he holds me, and sometimes I wonder if he even notices that I’m there. That it’s me he’s holding and not Bronx. And sure, he tells me he loves me, but I’m not so sure if he means it. Not like I do, anyways.

Tonight, I am curled against him while he is sleeping off the latest night with Bronx. His hands are tight, even in his sleep, on my hips. I wince, it’s almost painful how tight he’s holding me, but I don’t mind. I love it when he holds me like this, as if he’s afraid that I’ll slip away, too. Of course, I won’t. I could never even think about leaving him, it’d be almost like giving up my oxygen. I reach up, petting his hair. Tonight, he forgot to do his regular ritual of blow drying his hair after his shower, so soon were Bronx and Jamie here. The result was that his hair had turned into a wavy, soft mess instead of the straight, perfect style he usually had it in. Personally, I like it better this way. It makes him seem so much more natural. Almost instantly, his head pressed against my palm.

“Bronx,” He murmurs in his sleep, and then his lips turn up in a smile. I pull my hand away slightly, but then he’s tightening his grip on me, letting out a soft whimper. I place my hand back on his cheek, and the peaceful look on his face returns.

“No, it’s Elyse,” I murmur, and I don’t know what falls faster; his smile or my heart.