Dirty Addiction (Dirty 2)

re important troubles.

“I shouldn’t bother you with my stupid problems. How is Sailor doing?”

“She’s fussy and misses her Aunt.”

I smile. “I miss her too. I’ll have to come visit soon.”

We hang up and I realize what I already knew, but had to try anyway, that my sister can’t even help me. If I want to go to prom with Mark, I’m going to have to figure it out myself.

I start removing my t-shirt and jeans. I might as well try on the dress and see what hope I have of making it fit by this weekend. When I’m down to my bra and underwear, I pull the dress up my body and zip up the back. I let go of the dress to walk to the bathroom and look at myself in the mirror but the dress instantly falls to the ground at my feet. I have no curves anywhere on my body to hold the dress up.

I sigh and reach down and pick up the dress holding it up to my body while I walk to the bathroom. I step inside, turning the light on as I see just how big the dress really is.

I grab all the tissue paper we have and start stuffing my bra, hoping that if I can stuff it enough and maybe pin it slightly in the back, I can get it to stay up.

I hear a chuckle and I freeze, realizing that I didn’t shut the door. I was too focused on the dress.

“I don’t think there is enough tissue paper in the world to make you have tits big enough to hold up that dress,” Carter says as he leans on the doorframe.

I glare at him. “No one asked you.”

He shrugs and steps inside the bathroom behind me. He grabs the back of the dress around my waist and pulls it tightly until the front is flush to my skin.

My breathing stops at his touch. His touch is not a feeling I’m used to. I feel an electricity tingling from my fingertips to my toes when he touches me.

“There, that’s better,” he says, his eyes devouring my body in the mirror.

I narrow my eyes and remind myself to breathe. He doesn’t like you, I remind myself. And I hate him.

“Know how to sew?” I ask.

“Nope,” he responds.

I exhale deeply.

“Put some clothes on and come to Logan’s room,” he says.

“Did you guys get dinner?”

He shrugs. “We got alcohol.”

I turn and walk out of the bathroom, but not before Carter’s hands crawl across my lower back, sending chills down my back. I shake my head as I walk to my bedroom. I don’t know what is wrong with me right now, but I need to remind my body that he’s the enemy. Even when he tries to be nice once or twice a year, it’s only to make the pain that much worse when he eventually hurts me again.

I shut my bedroom door and then find my baggiest sweatpants and sweatshirt. A shield of sorts to keep Carter from hitting on me.

I step into Logan’s tiny bedroom that barely fits his queen sized bed. I find Logan lying back on the bed, while Carter is sitting on the floor leaning against the opposite wall. Both hold a beer in their hands.

“Here,” Carter says, holding out a beer to me.

I walk to Carter while I look at Logan, waiting for him to say that I can’t have the beer. He doesn’t say anything though. I’ve had a few beers before, but I’ve never drank with Logan. He never lets me. I don’t know why today is any different, but if we aren’t going to get to eat then we might as well get drunk to pass the time.

I take the beer from Carter and watch as he pats the floor beside him. I take a seat next to him despite my better judgment.

Logan starts playing some music on his radio and we all just sit there listening to the music while thinking about our shitty lives. Logan finishes his beer and then gets up, leaving Carter and me alone. I don’t know where Logan is going, but neither of us ask or care.

Carter downs his beer while I continue to sip mine. “Want another?” he asks.

I finish mine and then nod, handing him my empty can. He takes it from me and tosses them both in the corner of the room before grabbing two more cans from the box sitting on the floor at the foot of Logan’s bed. He hands one to me as he takes a seat next to me again.