I ride for another twenty minutes, taking a long ride around the island, thinking about that kiss. How in just a few hours, this girl has turned my world upside down. How I want to drive back to that apartment and knock on every door until I find her. How I want to press my lips against hers before ripping her clothes off and burying myself in her, never pulling out.

I pass the spot where the party was, just to see who is left, but the fire is gone, nothing but a smoky breeze drifting off to sea. A few people are still there, mostly making out, and from the looks of it, fucking lazily on the beach.

It's too late to make any sales, so I move on. Parking at the spot in front of the shop, I walk toward the door and stop. I feel the little baggie in my pocket, and it’s still calling to me, but the voice sounds different now. The thought of letting myself go there makes me want to punch something hard. I don’t want to phase out, in search of some bliss that could never match the possibility of what I felt tonight. I can’t let my mind near the idea of dumping those little white crystals into the pipe and the beautiful burn when the flame hits the glass.

Instead, I turn and walk straight back to the beach. Standing near the water’s edge, now so much farther up the beach than before, I pull the small bag out of my pocket. I just think about her lips against my mouth. We could have this and so much more.

I should have dumped it. I wanted to so much, no matter how much it fucking hurt. I wanted to dump it and never get high again.

But I didn’t. Because it called to me, begged me to stay, promised me the comfort I needed. So rather than let myself dream of Sierra and the possibility of what we could have, I avoided thinking of her at all. I couldn’t let her and this addiction coexist in my mind.

And since I couldn’t lose myself in her tonight, I lost myself in something far worse.

4

Sierra

My parents are golfing with their island friends. This is what they do every year on Wickett. They leave me and expect me to cling onto some random friends and never really show my face at the condo. It’s our little deal that I never agreed to. They take me to the beach, and I leave them alone.

I sleep in late because it took me hours to fall asleep last night. I didn’t sneak in until after three, but then I tossed and turned in my bed thinking about Logan’s arm in my hand. Those dirty thoughts kept me from sleep. Why didn’t he touch me? Did I make myself look too desperate? Am I just a young, horny rich girl to him? He probably has plenty of beautiful women at his feet. Why would he waste his time on a girl like me?