Milked

Skylar | downs and ups.

I let Loren lead me from Hazed and Dazed to the light rail, feeling more fucked up than I'd felt in a long time. Lines were blurring, colors were brightening, and sounds were swirling around in the air to accompany the tingling feelings that moved through my body.

Inside the train, the lack of stimulating music and the fluorescent lights wreaked havoc on my brain, and I could tell they were doing the same to Loren, who looked like he was in the midst of a bad trip. This E did not offer the same level of euphoria that E usually did. No surprise: that guy Loren had gotten the pills from looked sketchy as fuck.

I had to coax Loren out of the train like some babysitter, even though I probably needed a sitter myself, and the whole situation annoyed me and made me wish my pot dealer had come here with me, because I would never have to coax him out of a train.

When we finally got safely to my apartment, away from all the strange people of the light rail, Loren went over to my kitchen sink and drank copious amounts of water straight from the faucet. After a while, I asked him, "Are you okay?"

He didn't answer.

"Loren?"

Still no answer.

"Loren, you're worrying me."

"I need Shane," he said suddenly, and I realized my babysitting skills sucked, because I couldn't even bring Loren up from this place he had gone, and apparently only his asshole friend was capable.

"Why don't you call him?"

"No, I need to see him."

"Well, where is he?"

"Probably at his house. North Scottsdale."

"I'm not driving you to North Scottsdale."

"Can I borrow your car?"

"No, you cannot borrow my car! Look—maybe I can call a friend."

Looking at Loren in this state he was in made me really glad I'd decided to save one of my pills for later instead of taking all three like he had. I felt the outside of my pocket, and I could feel it tucked safely away inside.

I took my phone and dialed Phil's number. "Hi, Phil. Listen—do you want to do me a favor?"

:(     :(     :(

Phil came twenty minutes later, and I had gotten Loren to open his eyes for more than a few seconds at a time. He looked contemplative and lost, and I wished I could have been more help. Actually, I didn't wish that at all, because what I really wished for was for someone to touch me, someone to help me make the most of this high before it went away. Seeing Phil's truck filled me with relief, because the truck meant Phil, someone who could help me make the most of this high.

I helped Loren down the stairs of our apartment, and I even helped him into the truck, telling Phil, "This is my friend, Loren. Loren, this is my friend Phil."

"Nice to meet you Loren."

"Yeah. Hi."

The drugs completely subdued Loren's personality, and the only conversation he made with Phil was the directions to Shane's house, which took forever to get to. It looked like your typical North Scottsdale house, that southwestern style that made me wish I lived somewhere else, somewhere like California or New York where people had good taste.

Once Loren got out of the truck, I wished him a goodbye.

"You think you should walk him to the door?" Phil asked me.