The Bottom Club

14 | liberosis

HE PASSED OFF on taking any other mind-altering substances, but it didn't take long for the coke to take effect, leaving his skin tingly as he clenched his jaw and caught his first in-person Gossip Girlesque glimpse of a world of youth, glamour, and decadence. It felt like heaven to Wyatt.

They spoke, the easy ambience of the evening lending a sense of intimacy to their words so that it was like he had always been a part of this coveted little clique.

Wyatt knew now, for example, that Harlan was taking some time away from school for some mysterious reason that he refused to delve into (though going from the fact that he had just flown in from LA, Wyatt was willing to bet his left testicle that it had something to do with an audition)―just as he knew that Elina, Hassan and Bella were on midterm break from the prestigious prep school they went to in DC.

In return, he'd told them about the incident at Rashad's house, a story that by the time he was finished telling, had them all wheezing with laughter, and in Bella's case, crying.

He chose to take that as further testament to the fact that he was not, in fact, crazy.

Someone had suggested they join the rest of the party, and so now Wyatt stood, doing an awkward half-dance half-shuffle alone by the edge of the backyard pool, and not too far away from him stood Bella.

She had her hands thrown of the shoulders of a thin slip of a girl that he hadn't really noticed until that moment, who had pulled her hair from its messy bun so that it trailed down her back in a curtain of magnificent auburn as they kissed like they had just one moment longer to live.

"Get a room!" Elina's voice came crowing over the music, and Bella flipped the finger, continuing on business as usual.

It was hard to look away from, this display evident hunger, but finally Wyatt pulled his eyes away from the pair and turned them to his ever rippling reflection in the lit up waters of the pool.

He forced a smile and watched the reflection mirror the movement of his mouth, tried to convince himself that he was happy, content and entirely in his element, but the drugs in his system instead of pushing him completely beyond a point past reason were making him entirely too self-aware.

For a second he considered jumping in fully clothed to distract himself and escape from the feeling, but then a different song came on and he stiffened when he felt arms rope in around his stomach.

When he turned to find it was Harlan, Wyatt wondered if this wasn't an episode of lucid dreaming. He'd heard that coke caused nightmares, but if anything this was far from one, and after a moment he let himself relax.

The older boy had given in at one point, taking a pastel pink pill that Bella pressed into his palm, and now with his dark mussed hair and twinkling eyes, he appeared like some kind of wicked fae creature come to lead Wyatt to his ruination.

"Dance with me," Wyatt said, turning so they faced themselves after a short while had passed.

His voice felt disembodied from him, and he wondered if this was what it felt like to have an out-of-body experience. Harlan gave a low chuckle.

"You don't want that," he said, leaning over so he whispered into Wyatt's ear. "I'm terrible at dancing."

His brief flirt with melancholy forgotten, Wyatt shrugged, letting a small smile tug at the corners of his lips. He lowered his lashes flirtatiously.

"Then it's a good thing I'm good enough for the both of us."

Harlan may have been a boy with hundreds of thousands of adoring followers at his beck and call, but at the end of the day he was just a boy―and there was no language, absolutely none, that Wyatt had mastered more.