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Back Devotion Save as PDF
Chapters (47)
  1. Cover
  2. Prologue
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. 34
  37. 35
  38. 36
  39. 37
  40. 38
  41. 39
  42. 40
  43. 41
  44. 42
  45. Acknowledgments
  46. About the Author
  47. About the Publisher

“It’s Molly I stole from Carlow,” James said. “You ever done MDMA before?”

“No,” I said.

“Don’t worry,” Lonnie said.

I didn’t particularly want to be high, but looking at those three bundles on the counter I couldn’t refuse. They were meant for Lonnie, James, and Carlow, but one was being offered to me instead. To refuse would be to accept exclusion. To accept would be to overthrow Carlow in some small way.

We tossed them back.

The lights in the kitchen flickered. Thunder clapped outside. I sputtered at the chemical taste, choked a little trying to swallow the paper.

Lonnie leaned her mouth to my ear. “Don’t leave me alone,” she said.

I pulled her closer, her hip into my hip. “No, no, no. Of course not.”

The drug hit after only a few minutes—a sweeping sensation over my body like water. “It’s starting,” Lonnie said, as soon as I felt it, which reassured and excited me. We were having parallel experiences. Like our bodies were intertwined. I’d read somewhere that MDMA was originally developed for therapeutic benefits, to lower defenses and increase feelings of empathy.

In this way it felt like a housewife drug—the perfect drug for Lonnie. Lonnie, who should probably not exist within the context of a housewife, but continued to do so anyway. Lonnie, who hated everyone at this party, but didn’t want to be alone in a room. An escape in order to stay.

“I want to go swimming,” she said.

36

LONNIE, MADE OF WATER, HAIR PLASTERED TO HER FACE AND spread out around her as she floated on her back, lips and fingertips turning blue, nails painted black, in the pool, in the rain. I walked around the edge, complicit in whatever was happening to her by her request. Both of our light dresses were see-through now, hers with pool water, mine with rain. I walked around the deck and bent to throw the soggy boats back into the water; they unfolded, sprawling out and turning into flowers around her. I felt invincible in her heels, not worried about slipping, not worried about any of the people inside the house or what they thought about us.

We were in something together, though I didn’t know what it was. Thunder clapped overhead. Someplace, far back in my brain, I knew this wasn’t a good idea, for her to be in the pool, during a thunderstorm, but I didn’t feel any danger. I felt like singing.

Sun machine is coming down and we’re gonna have a party

Sun machine is coming down and we’re gonna have a party

My dad had given me that record, I remembered, eyes welling up; he’d handed it to me when I was fourteen, saying, “Here’s something weird you might like.”