Your Love is my Drug

I walked into the house, glancing around the room for the host. I had chills running down my back, the three of us in one room always made me sick. As of now, my hand was wrapped sweetly around Brent’s, and I wore a smile that said I loved it.

The truth? I didn’t. I didn’t like the way I felt next to him, or the way I felt when he kissed me. Aside from feeling guilty, I felt unattached. Brent and I never really connected, not in a way that would generate a couple. We were friends and I couldn’t try and force it anymore, I just wasn’t in love with him.

He brushed his thumb over my hand, causing me to glance up at him, “Want a drink?”

I smiled shyly and gave him a nod. He kissed me quickly on the lips and disappeared into the kitchen with the alcohol he’d just bought.

I sighed heavily. This was getting harder and harder. I hated lying to him, he was one of the closest people to me, but I couldn’t hurt him. Admitting what I’ve been doing for the past few months would kill him and I wasn’t going to do that, I cared about him too much.

I said hi to a few friends, making sure to give Jonathan a quick hug, before following Brent into the kitchen. I prayed silently to myself, asking God to make sure that Patrick Kane wasn’t in the room when I got there and luckily, he wasn’t.

Instead I saw Brent, Kris and Brian hanging out, while Brent mixed my vodka and coke. Each boy had a beer in hand, almost as if it was glued there, and turned to look at me instantly.

“Hey,” Kris smiled, sipping his beer, “That dress is a little short, don’t you think?”

I narrowed my eyes at him, but Brent had it covered. Without a word, he leaned over to shove Versteeg roughly into Brian.

As he stood up straight and handed me my drink, he gave Kris a mock glare, “She looks hot, actually.”

I smiled triumphantly and took my drink, leaning up to give my boyfriend a soft kiss, “Thank you baby.”

Kris rolled his eyes, which didn’t surprise me. I knew not to take him seriously, everybody did. I could only grin as I took a drink from my cup, realizing that there was a lot more vodka than pop in it, but I wasn’t going to say anything.

“Where’s your girlfriend?” I asked Kris, taking another drink, “Finally realize the mistake she was making?”

“Funny!” He sarcastically replied, “She’s out of town, with her sister, something about the wedding... I don’t know.”

Brent snuck his arm around my waste and pulled me close to him. I couldn’t complain, he treated me well, but I had no romantic feeling for him. The thought brought me back to who did give me those feelings and the fact that I was in his house, with Brent- who was clueless. I felt sick again.

I nearly downed the drink, ready to forget that I was a terrible person, but the alcohol couldn’t catch up fast enough, anyway. I was going to hell.

“I’m going pee,” I whispered to Brent, locking eyes with his icy blue ones, “I’ll be right back.”

He nodded, “Okay.”

He began to let go, but I handed him my cup, almost sternly, “Have another one ready for me, okay babe?”

I watched Brent chuckle and nod and then I was off to the bathroom. I was going to puke and not because of the booze. I had a cold sweat, much like the one from last week, where I was left in the locker room with Brent as he sweet talked me, with Patrick two stalls away, the only other person around.

It literally made me sick. I felt torn, ripped apart and I had to bee-line it for the trash can. Right now was just about the same feeling, I could already sense the burning in the pit of my stomach and I had yet to see Patrick. It was going to be a rough night.

I walked up the stairs casually trying to side-step a scene. The upstairs hallway was dark, unlike its usual state. I could see the outlines of the picture frames and the desks, but other than that, I was lost.

“Give me a fucking break,” I muttered, locking my hand around the bathroom doorknob, “Does he not know about fucking lights?”

I slammed the door behind me and took a hefty breath. This was becoming too overwhelming, and I was beginning to doubt if I could handle it. I didn’t want to even think about choosing, even if it was selfish, I cared about them both far too much.

Gripping the sink, I glanced up at my long, blonde hair- which didn’t look as good as I thought it did when we had left. My green eyes looked dull, and lifeless, and my face washed of all colour. I looked like a mess and I sure felt like one too.

Brent and I were going on a year and a half, getting pretty close to two years. I hadn’t been cheating until a few months ago, but it felt like longer. I felt dirty coming home and when he looked at me, I swore he knew every time. Of course, he didn’t, or else I would be out of this situation, but it didn’t help the guilt.

On more than one occasion, I had come close to telling him. I walked in ready to blurt it out, but something always stopped me. One time, Adam and Niklas were over and I made up some excuse for why I was so upset. Another time, he had injured himself at practice and he was already so bummed out that I just couldn’t worsen it. All of the other times, I’ll admit, I chickened out.

My stomach was feeling weaker and weaker, my head lighter and lighter. I was aware than downstairs, Patrick Kane was socializing and having a good time, possibly even chatting and laughing with Brent. No guilt.

I, however, wasn’t that person. I felt as if I’d just murdered my best friend and then buried them in my backyard.