Playing Patience

Page 4

Either way, I wasn’t going to be fooled. She was probably some rich bitch that came to The Pit for a fix and hid it from her wealthy friends, but then again, it was the loaded ones that had the best shit. Again, I wondered what she was doing in such a vile place, wrapped in all that innocence.
“Please,” she whispered. “Something’s wrong with me.”
She slid up the ceramic tiles and then used the wall to hold herself up.
The stage and my band were calling me. I didn’t have time for this shit. I needed to walk out, let the bartender know some chick was fucked up in the bathroom, and then get back to my guitar. Except, the more I looked down at her, the more I knew I wouldn’t be able to just walk away. Something about her seemed legit and part of me knew she wasn’t here to score drugs.
It wasn’t in my nature to give a shit, so it made me angry that I kind of did. I didn’t want to see this chick get hurt and she would, since she was obviously out of her element.
“Shit,” I growled as I closed the distance between us.
She flinched like I was going to hurt her when I lifted my hands to her face. Her flinch angered me. I’d never hurt a female, but I imagine I did look scary to this petite, straight-laced girl. Her pale skin got whiter and started to blend with her sandy strands of hair. Her baby-blue eyes took on a whole new fear as I moved in closer and used my fingers to open her eyelids wider.
Upon closer inspection, I could see that her bloodshot eyes were severely dilated. Empty black dots surrounded by a sea of blue swam inside her eye sockets. She was definitely on something.
“What did you take?” I asked roughly.
She looked at me like I was insane. Her silky forehead puckered in confusion.
“I didn’t take anything, I swear,” she slurred.
“Did anybody give you anything, maybe a piece of candy or something powdery?”
My fingers slid down her face to the side of her neck to check her pulse and she stiffened. As I suspected it would be, her heart was beating too slowly. She was tripping on something and her body wasn’t taking kindly to it, either.
“No, no one gave me anything.” She was starting to freak out.
“Then I don’t know what to tell you.” I turned to walk away.
I didn’t have time for this and my bullshit limit had been reached.
“Wait.” She reached out and grabbed my arm. She jerked her hand back like it was on fire.
“What?” I sighed.
Damn, I was getting aggravated. There were people outside waiting for me to finish a set and here I was fucking around with some little white-haired pixie.
“A guy at the bar gave me a drink.” She looked at me with crazed eyes. “I thought he just got it from the bartender. It was really sweet, but it tasted fine. I don’t think there was anything it in. I would have tasted it, right?”
“Great, just fucking great.” I threw my hands up in aggravation. “You got spiked.”
I leaned my head back and ran my hands roughly down my face. This was just what I needed.
She reached out and laid her hand on my arm. I looked down at her fingers. The contrast between my tan, tattooed skin and her perfectly manicured, pale fingers was shocking.
“Am I going to be okay?” she asked in a panic. “Should I go to a hospital? My friend, the one who brought me… I can’t find her. She wanted the drummer and now I can’t find her. Please don’t leave me.”
Her chest heaved as she began to hyperventilate. She leaned her head down, allowing her hair to come around her shoulders. It was much longer than it looked from straight on. Reaching up, she pushed her hair from her face. She was on the verge of a major breakdown.
With her hair out of her face, I got a better look at her. My eyes were met with soft, untouched skin and flushed cheeks. She had a tiny nose and slightly slanted eyes. She looked foreign, all pale with naturally platinum hair, not the box-dyed white that chicks liked to use. She reminded me of a tiny snowflake fairy.
Shaking my brain and alleviating the crazy thoughts, the situation at hand came back to me.
“I’ll go get you some help,” I said as I turned to walk away again.
She reached out once more and grabbed my arm. Her fingers weren’t as soft as before. Instead, they dug desperately into my forearm. Her mouth gapped open like she was about so say something and then her eyes rolled back in her head. I had to catch her when she fainted in my arms.
Two
Patience
I snuggled into my sheets and sighed as my tingling muscles finally relaxed. I’d practiced extra hard in hopes that I’d come home, shower, and pass out. The burn in my calves told me I’d overdone it, but it felt good to push myself. Soccer was the only thing I was in control of. In a life as secretly chaotic as mine, that small ounce of power was welcomed.