Page 11 of Dirty Roulette

Chapter seven

Payton

Iwake up the next morning like nothing happened.

No hangover, just an overly dry mouth. Tap from the bathroom sink saturates my tongue.

The water runs on high, and I dip my head, taking mouthfuls.

I rest over the counter and stare into the mirror, my chin and neck drenched.

A nest of hair is matted on my right side, and my mascara is smeared. It’s Crypt Keeper bad.

I lick the water off my lips, and Ryder crashes into my memory bank.

The smoky taste of his tongue on mine sinks to my thighs.

I can’t believe I acted like a dog humping him until I.

.. My chest collapses miserably. I want to jab a knife in my heart and rip out this feeling rampaging through me. Oh God. I’m mortified.

Vodka poison is instant zombie juice, and it enslaves everyone’s brain to do stupid things.

The ache in the pit of my stomach tells me to lock up the grinding fest and pretend like nothing happened.

At the same time, Brody wants me to sleep with Ryder, film it, and send it to him.

All for pom-poms in a football stadium, a shot at living in a sorority house rent-free, and finally getting out of Cloud Nine for good

The door creaks open, sliding clothes into the corner of the wall.

It’s musty here. Blotches of toothpaste litter the ceramic sink, runaway strands of hair stick to everything like glue, and every type of lipstick scatters across the countertop.

Charlie weasels her way past me and drops her shorts, plopping down on the toilet.

She hunches over, resting an elbow on her bare leg. “Last night was crazy.” Charlie groans and coils teepee around her fingers as she pees out gallons worth of terrible decisions.

“You can say that again.”

“So, are you gonna tell me who you landed on?”

“No one. Ryder cockblocked them... and he saw me naked and looked... I don’t know... like he was disgusted at the sight of me... I dunno how I feel.”

“He’s such an ass...I kinda regret going down on Noah.” Charlie flushes and pulls her shorts back up before washing her hands.

“Do you like him?”

Charlie dries her hands on the towel hanging on the maple-brown door.

“I dunno. He’s a nice change of pace.” She shrugs.

“I just can’t get over Brody sleeping with Brittni.

No matter how hard I try to forgive him and give him another chance, my gut tells me he’s just gonna do it again.

” I can feel her side-eyeing me and I exhale sharply.

“Will you believe me when I say I didn’t land on him?”

“But you landed on someone.” She ruffles her hair in the mirror, and the pillow head looks a million times hotter than I could ever pull off. “I’m not an idiot. I’ve known you since we had baby teeth. You suck at lying.”

“I’m not. Plus, Brody’s a douchebag that deserves blue balls.” I cross my arms and lean my back against the sink. She grabs a comb, tosses her locks up, and wraps it into a scrunchy.

“Stop beating around the bush and tell me.”

“How many times do I have to say, no one?”

I’m the worst bestie. If you’ve known a bro longer than a day, their siblings are off limits. I’m breaking Bro Code, which is close enough to Sister Code. No way, I can’t say it. My tongue is broken.

Confessing I liked Ryder running his fingers through my hair and shoving his tongue down my throat has “bad idea” written all over it.

There’s no way in hell I can tell her I gave him my underwear and granted him my virginity, too.

It’s on tape. Someone needs to pour gasoline on top of my head and hand over the matches so I can light myself on fire.

I’d rather die in boiling oil than see my naked photos all over the internet for someone to jerk off to.

If I had a million fingers, that’s how many times I told Charlie I wanted nothing to do with this initiation bull. Now, out of stupidity and following along, I’m smack in the dead center of it.

Never have I ever kept a deep, dark secret from Charlie. This digs a grave for our friendship when it meets the noose. My skin crawls from the mere thought of Brody winning either way.

“Mhm...” Charlie runs a hand through loose strands of hair falling out of her bun. “Do you plan on hanging today?”

“I might head home. I’ve been sleeping over here for five days straight, and I ran out of clean clothes, and I need to finish packing up my room.”

“No way, it’s really been five days? What’s our record?”

“Three nights and I stayed ‘til dinner before Mum came banging on the door.”

“Let’s not forget, my mom insisted we need space,” Charlie adds, knowing that didn’t work out well.

We’re sharing a dorm out of luck and begging the university staff in charge of assigning the housing arrangements.

We did the obnoxious, leaping up and down and breaking our windpipes in each other’s faces when we got assigned together.

“I think I’ll shower and head out,” I say.

“When you’re done, do you wanna meet back around one? There are free demos at Smokey Vinyl.” Charlie wiggles her fingers at me and scuffs down the hallway in her pink slippers.

“That gives us four hours of space.”

“Shut up and sneak back later, hoe!”

“Do you want to go because Noah is there?” I ask.

“What if I do?”

“Fine, whatever. I’ll go.” I agree.

After a shower, I pack up dirty clothes and all the things I moved into the bathroom for the last several days. I throw the duffle bag over my shoulder and climb down the porch steps with the screen door slamming behind me.

Scottie P leans against the hood of Ryder’s Jeep. Smoke pools out of his nostrils and it reeks of sweet skunk. He pretends he’s cool as hell with his black sunglasses hiding the evidence of a bad hangover.

Ryder marches out of the garage with football gear hanging out of a tote.

My insides beg for him to glance over with his charcoal gray eyes and rugged features, but he dismisses my existence entirely.

It’s a plunge to the chest, sensing the hint of regret permeating off him.

I wouldn’t want to look at the girl who got off on his thigh, either.

I turn around and enjoy the company of dirt crunching under each step.

I take out the Walkman I bought down at the Goodwill.

It still works. It’s taboo to even own one of these now.

Everyone on this planet has AirPods, streaming on Spotify.

Me? Well, I enjoy twirling a wire around my fingers and holding onto the Walkman with my dear life with old school CD’s playing.

When I reach the decaying metal sign displaying Cloud Nine, my stomach drops. It never gets easier walking down this dirt road filled with trailers crumbling apart.

Neighboring faces change, but they’re all the same type of people.

No matter what, there is always a Crusty-Wrinkles.

He’s the old smoker, hacking all hours of the day.

The man slouches with the curse of a hunchback on a sun-bleached chair with his fifth cigarette of the day.

I’ve never seen him wear anything but the same stained shirt that used to be white.

Living next door is Old Cat Lady. She waters the hundreds of plants hijacking her patio. Cats pounce around her. Two are humping on the roof, keeping the cycle rolling. Then there is the mom with five kids with no teeth, and every outside toy in existence littering her front yard.

Other trailers rot, ceilings cave in, windows are smashed, and spray painted with graffiti.

I’m nauseous when I reach the front door and open it.

I never know what I’m walking into. Mum’s got a bad habit of leaching to older men with some money.

It’s stepdad number three and the life cycle of each one is the same.

When the relationship rears its ugly end, Mum paws for another glass of cheap box wine.

The door creaks while closing. Mum wears yellow gloves and scrubs the stove. She glances over her shoulder and says, “Oh... look who’s alive.”

“Yeah, sorry, I kind of lost track of time.” I clench the strap of the bag.

“Staying out and partying is going to run that scholarship of yours to the ground.”

“Can you just trust me that I’ll be fine?”

“I was eighteen once too.”

“I know.” I smile and stare at the ceiling, realizing my entire body language screams, liar.

“I’m going to finish packing. Charlie and I are going to Smokey Vinyl later.”

“You’re not going anywhere until that entire room is cleaned up. It looks like a dumpster shit in it. You leave in two days.”

A boa constrictor wraps around my lungs, and I gape down the hallway to my bedroom. I’ve neglected it for the past two months and I won’t be surprised if a rodent is rooming with me.

“I’ll clean it.”

Rey sits in his recliner with his feet kicked up.

Fat fingers curl around the TV remote and the volume goes from twenty to seventy in seconds because I’m the annoying background noise.

Rey’s dark sunken eyes glare. It’s all he does.

His mustache hangs over the firm line of his mouth, and it looks like he wants to say something.

I rush down the hallways in the middle of Mum lecturing and close the bedroom door.

It’s the only layer of protection from her strangling me to death.

An emo girl’s room with cheap tape and hand-selected posters of heavy metal artists is solace, but I have to tear them all down. The rest of this room is a minefield.

I sit on my bed dreading the cleanup and pull out my cell.

Payton: Hey...

Crab: Hi

Payton: I’m sorry...

Crab: Yeah

Payton: Do you hate me?

Crab: Out of all the stupid things you choose to do, no... I don’t hate you. But I’m pissed.

Payton: Can I have my underwear back?

Crab: No, and I’m busy. TTYL

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