Red Smoke

Ryan's POV

I took a few deep breaths and closed my eyes before knocking on Rob’s door.

                  “Is the coast clear?” he joked, poking his head outside the door and looking around. He laughed, holding the door open for me.

                  “Um, yeah,” I said, sitting down at the edge of the bed. The room smelled like pot and cigarettes, and RoboCop 3 was on the TV very quietly.

                  “What’s wrong? I’m not funny?” he asked, walking into the bathroom to mess with something on the counter.

                  “This… situation. It’s not funny. Pete… he can never know. I love him,” I added that last part barely above a whisper, though I knew he heard me. I saw his shoulders tense up through the open bathroom door. He didn’t say anything for a while. I watched as he worked vigorously on something, hunched over the counter.

                  “Did you hear me, Rob? He can’t ever find out about this. Ever,”

                  “Where did you really go tonight?” he asked, turning around quickly.

                  “I- we… uh…”

                  “Did he drive you somewhere to ‘talk’? Did you f**k his brains out and then tell him that you love him, even though we both know there’s something and someone else? You’d run over his heart with a bulldozer a million times if it meant more of this,” he held up a new baggie of… coke? It looked different- too white? Not white enough?

                  I felt very weak with him holding the baggie over my head, making me look up at it like it was bigger than me… it was bigger than me.

                  “Answer the question, Ryan,” he said, hitting me on the shoulder too hard to not be serious. I swallowed hard and wrapped my arms around my body.

                  “Yeah,” I said. I was so powerless…

                  “You’re such a f*****g s**t. You sure as hell don’t have to worry about anyone telling Pete what’s going on here. If you keep whoring around like this, he’ll figure it out sooner or later,”

                  I stood up. “F**k you,” I spat the words at him, trying to ignore the sting his words left inside me.

                  “Oh really? F**k me? I’m surprised you haven’t already… f*****g crack w***e,”

                  “What the f**k, Rob? Stop! Just stop! Where is all of this even coming from?!”

                  “You’re such a dumb f**k,” he hissed. He hit my shoulder again, and when I didn’t fight back, he pushed me into the TV stand.

                  “Ow!” I rubbed my elbow. I looked at him, now ready to defend myself, but he smacked me across the face and shoved me to the floor. I stared at him with a blank expression. I was too stunned to even comprehend if that hurt or not. He scanned my face, biting his lip. When I tried to stand up, he kicked me in the abdomen. I could definitely comprehend that that hurt. I rolled onto the floor, crying out in pain. When I caught my breath, I looked up at him, terrified. Before I could say anything, he punched me in the bridge of the nose. I fell backwards again, this time, screaming every curse I could think upon him. The blood was almost instantaneous, warm coppery crimson covering everything. I cupped my bleeding throbbing face and ran to the bathroom, leaving a red trail behind me, finally escaping the rage. I slipped and fell onto my hands and knees on the white tile of the bathroom. Blood splattered everywhere. It looked like a horror movie. I left bloody handprints on the floor as I crawled to the toilet.

                  I knelt and let my nose bleed into the porcelain bowl. The blood looked beautiful as it swirled around and mixed with the water inside the toilet. It looked like red smoke.

                  Rob walked into the bathroom after a while and just looked at me from the doorway. Then, he walked closer, reached up to grab a towel, got it wet, and handed it to me. I took it and wiped my face off.

                  “Do you think it’ll bruise?” he asked. Do you think it’ll bruise?! That’s what you’re going to f*****g ask me?! I thought.

                  “F**k off,” I mumbled.

                  “Look,” he started, “You f*****g need me, remember? So don’t f*****g come in here all high and mighty and think you can tell me what I can and can’t do,” He knelt down next to me and put his face close to mine. He folded the little pouch of coke into my hand and brushed some blood off of my cheek with his index finger. My eyes, once again, clouded with tears.

                  “Hey, hey- I’m sorry. Don’t cry,” he said, cupping my face in his hand. I was sick of crying that night. I hated how many feelings I had when I wasn’t high. If I would have been high off my a*s through that entire encounter, I probably would have just brushed it off like it was a stroll in the f*****g park.

                  “W-why did you-“

                  “Let me make it up to you,” he said, pressing his lips to my neck.

                  “But, Rob- you just-“

                  “Come here,” he led me into the bedroom. He gave me a few pills and some water. I don’t know what the pills were, but I was completely gone in a matter of minutes. Rob kissed my lips, licking away the dried blood.

                  “It doesn’t hurt anymore, does it?” he asked. He sounded far away and echo-y. I felt like I was floating around in space, completely oblivious to the rest of the world.

                  Somewhere along the way, we shed our clothes and ended up on the bed. Until then, I had been unaware that his lips could be in so many places at once- at least, it seemed like it was all at once.

                  After a little while, he had given up being gentle and bit my shoulder, pinning me hard against the lumpy mattress. I thought for sure he was going to take my a*s virginity, but he just ended up going down on me, which all happened in a blur.

                  I woke up in his bed the next day, my head pounding. I almost vomited, but managed to hold it down when I realized that I wasn’t even able to stand up to run to the bathroom yet. Where does Pete think I am? I was hanging myself in a web of secrets and lies.

***

                  I felt like it would be a good idea to rush back to my own room before Rob could realize that I was gone, but I couldn’t bring myself to move at all. I felt paralyzed. I closed my eyes for a few more minutes, willing my legs to cooperate with me. Sure enough, about fifteen minutes later, I got up and pulled my clothes back on very quietly. I went to the mirror and checked out my nose. It was a little sore and a bit red, but I don’t think he punched me hard enough to cause any severe damage. I was still absolutely confused out of my mind about everything that had happened.                 

                  I checked the clock- 1:34 pm. The others would want to be leaving soon. I felt nauseous again. Having to lie to Pete again wasn’t helping anything. I searched my pockets for my room key, but it was missing. Swallowing back bile, I knocked on the door with my shaking hand.

                  Pete opened the door sleepily. He looked at me and smiled.

                  “Good morning,” he held the door open for me. Standing in the doorway with a horrified, disheveled expression was not helping me keep a low profile.

                  “Morning,” I croaked out, walking inside. Pete got back in bed, laid on his side and pulled the covers over his shoulders.

                  “Did you have a nice time with Rob?” he asked. Was he suspicious?

                  “Yeah…” I said cautiously. I could feel the paranoia setting in, filling up my whole body, eating away at my brain. It attacked my mind like a forest fire, devouring and consuming everything with it’s flames.

                  “So, you guys got pretty fucked up then?” he said, sort of falling back asleep.

                  “Mhm,” I responded. He didn’t ask any more questions and we both eventually fell asleep for another half an hour until Ron banged on the door and texted saying it was time to hit the road for the last time. We would be in Chicago in a half an hour.