Page 165

LOSING MY GRIP

Lizzie

NOVEMBER 1, 2003

I HAD NO MEMORY OF GETTING TO H UGH’S HOUSE WHEN I STUMBLED THROUGH HIS front door, soaked to the skin, with a half-drank bottle of my father’s whiskey dangling from my fingers.

Confusion gripped me tight, making it difficult to recognize the smiling faces acknowledging me.

I couldn’t make out a word of what they said.

I couldn’t even remember the password to unlock my phone.

All I knew in this moment was my clothes were drenched, my head was clouded, and I wanted my boyfriend.

Hugh .

Shaking my head, I stumbled up the staircase, moving on instinct, desperate to find him.

Because I needed him.

Because I felt like I was about to explode .

Because I couldn’t breathe without his touch.

Stumbling into his bedroom, I blinked in surprise when my gaze landed on a shaved-headed boy sprawled out on my boyfriend’s bed.

Tilting my head to one side, I asked, “What are you doing?”

“Waiting for you,” he replied, arms folded behind his back.

“Nuh-uh,” I snickered, shaking my finger. “I’m not supposed to be here tonight. Because I’ve been”—I hiccupped before slurring out the word—“ uninvited .”

“Yeah, me, too,” he replied with a sigh. “I’m on Biggsie’s shit list,” he added. “Figured I’d hang out up here for a bit and keep out of his way.”

“You, too?” My eyes widened as I swung my bottle around aimlessly. “I’m on the same shit list.”

He chuckled. “How wasted are you?”

“I’m not wasted,” I declared, twirling around in circles. “I’m high.”

“You feeling like sharing that whiskey?” he asked, gesturing to the bottle. “That’s a big bottle for one girl.” His gaze raked over me. “A ridiculously beautiful girl.”

“Only on the outside,” I slurred, stumbling over to the bed to hand him the bottle. Flopping onto the mattress, I released a wistful sigh. “My insides are ugly.”

“I don’t believe that for a minute,” he replied, rolling on his side to face me. “Fuck, you’re even better-looking up close.” He took a swig from the bottle before leaning over me to place it on the nightstand. “Biggsie’s one lucky lad.”

“Oh God, I love him so much.” Grabbing the pillow from under my head, I pressed it to my face and inhaled deeply. “But he doesn’t want me.”

“Of course he wants you,” he chuckled, settling back down on his side, facing me. “Every lad at school wants you.”

“Not him,” I groaned, wanting to cry when his familiar scent from his pillow infiltrated my senses. “Because he’s perfect, and I’m not.”

“Well, he must be blind to not want you,” the boy said, resting a hand on my hip. “And for the record, I think you’re pretty fucking perfect yourself.”

“You do?”

He nodded slowly. “If you were mine, I’d give you everything you want.”

“Like what?”

“What do you want?”

“To be touched,” I strangled out. “I want Hugh to touch me.”

“He doesn’t touch you?” he asked, trailing his fingers up and down my thigh.

“Can you get him for me?” I asked, struggling to focus when his hand moved higher. Clenching my eyes shut, I blew out a shaky breath. “I need to talk to him.”

“Why don’t you talk to me instead?” the boy coaxed, sending my body into a frenzy when his fingers slid under my dress. “I promise I’m a better listener.”

“Mm…” Eyelids fluttering shut, I rolled onto my back and let my legs fall open. “Hugh.” Grabbing his hand, I pushed it between my thighs and cried out when I felt his fingers push deep inside me. “Fuck me.”

“You want me to fuck you?”

“I need it.”

“You sure?”

“I need to feel it.”

I was on fire .

Burning and blistering and I needed my boyfriend to touch me.

“Mm.” Keeping my eyes closed, I nodded eagerly as his fingers moved inside me. “Have me.”

Shivering violently, my hips arched upward of their own accord as I stared lifelessly at the wall.

“I’m close,” he grunted in my ear, pushing himself deep inside me. “I’m wearing a condom, but I can pull out before I come if you want.”

“…that’s it, munchkin, take me in like a good girl…”

“Fuck, your pussy is gold.”

“…don’t fight it, munchkin. Don’t be a fucking crybaby like my other one…”

Shivering violently, I held my breath and waited for it to end.

“Is this your first time?”

“…see, that wasn’t so bad, was it, munchkin? You’re a big girl now…”

“No.” My tears trickled onto my pillow. “I’m a big girl.”

“Hold up—are you crying?”

“…keep your mouth shut or I’ll slit her fucking throat…”

“Jesus, I’ll stop, okay,” he strangled out. “Don’t cry.”

“No, Hugh, no!” Choking out a pained sob, I reached for him blindly. “Don’t leave me.”