Butterfly Ch. 08

But instead, I hesitated. Sherry stepped waded into my vacillations, offering to repaint my virtual tube top if it'd make me "feel better". I let her do that much, but still wasn't sure about getting out of the car. Then she offered me a pill to help me to "stop being so fucking uptight."

The only pills I've ever taken were prescription medicines and stuff like tylenol. I was the president of the freakin' "say no to drugs" club in high school. Yet blame it on alcohol or horniness or just the devil on my shoulder finally convincing me to defy my mom and stop being such a goody two-shoes, but I reached out and grabbed on of the two little pills waiting in Crissy's open palm, trying to placate my sensible side by rationalizing that I was only accepting half of the mystery dose Crissy had offered. (I still don't know what Crissy gave me — probably ecstasy as I think back on how I was acting afterwards.)

Like a stupid kid who fell for a stupid dare, I flipped the pill into my mouth and washed it down with the bottled water I always keep in the car, Crissy watching with satisfaction as I gulped it down. Then she hopped out and ran around the car, opening my door like some kind of goth-bitch doorman, and led me to her front stoop, music and loud voices clearly audible from inside.

I must have still looked nervous. As she turned the knob and flung the door open with a flourish, she pushed me in by my ass and whispered conspiratorially into my ear, "Let's go have some fun."...

... I have to stop typing now; my flight is about to board. Actually, this is a good place to stop. I don't think I'm mentally ready to recall and retell what happened in Crissy's house so soon after the fact.

I just hope that visiting Jen in DC will help me to clear my head and help me make sense of what the fuck happened last night, help me to put all the pieces back together. And I have no idea what I'm going to tell Kyle...