Boiling Point

Chris was so horny that it was starting to hurt.

He didn’t even bother locking his front door, he hurried up the stairs, flung himself onto his bed, nearly falling off the side in his haste, and started to take care of his problem. Never, not with any of the hot barely legal fans, not with Danielle, not with the few girls he had been with since her had gotten him like this. Nyx had been the fire and he had been the gasoline and once he had started kissing her, he was afraid that he’d never stop. He had no idea she’d respond like that, honestly, Chris thought she’d fling herself away, maybe even punch him, but he had no idea that she’d let him actually kiss her. His head filled with that soft little gasp of surprise, and he groaned when he remembered how she attacked him back, her fingers in his hair, her mouth biting, sucking, melting on his, her satsuma smell clogging his nose…

And yet it wasn’t enough to bring him to climax, and Chris growled in frustration and smacked his head against his pillow. Dammit, his hand was going to fail him NOW?! After months of celibacy!? This was too unfair for words.

Lord knows it took every inch of self control he had just to let her go. Chris had never wanted to jump someone like this, ever, and watching her walk into the house, teasing and taunting him, was adding insult to injury.

He forced himself to block it out, and grumpily headed downstairs to occupy his mind. But the second he saw the couch, he grit his teeth, and avoided it, walking into the kitchen for a drink, the first one he’d had in 2 or 3 days. Chris didn’t even bother getting a glass, just leaned against the counter and guzzled. As he wiped his mouth, his eyes fell on the stone kitchen island. A flash of Nyx sitting on top of it, naked, flashed through his brain and he choked and had to spit the liquor out onto the sink. “Jesus Christ.” Chris muttered, putting the bottle back on the counter and stalking out of his kitchen, thoroughly hacked off now, his lower parts hurting. He went back upstairs and jumped into a cold shower, hoping that would help, but all he could think about as he stepped in was that sideways smile of hers, and the cold water did nothing to alleviate Chris’ problem. He leaned against the shower wall and wiped off his wet face, sighing. Okay, so this was how it was going to be, he got to kiss her, but now he’d have to deal with this every time he saw her. And Chris could guarantee that-he’d never be able to look at her again without wanting that mouth on his. He turned the cold water off and switched over to hot, then tried once again to relieve the tension.

But nothing did the trick.
**********************************************
I stood nervously outside of Chris’s gray front door, fidgeting, feeling quite nauseous, scared to knock. I hadn’t slept most of the night due to the thoughts of his hands and lips on me, and I was not sure I could control myself around him now. The hot Florida sun beat mercilessly on my bare shoulders and I closed my eyes and raised my hand to knock. It took seconds for Chris to answer the door, and when he did, he had a huge smile on his face. He was wearing black shorts and a red bandanna and a sleeveless Magic jersey, and he looked amazing.

“Hey, Captain, come in. It’s hot out there.”

I shyly smiled back and stepped into his house, and Chris leaned in and gently kissed my cheek in greeting. I blushed at the contact, remembering how feverish he had been last night, and I could tell from his face that he was pleased with my reaction.

“Come on, I have to go look for Emily’s paintball suit, I think it’s somewhere in my pool house.” He led me through his house, through a back door, and into a very spacious backyard, adorned with palm trees and a huge lagoon shaped pool with a waterfall. I put down my stuff on a lawn chair while he searched his pool house, making a huge racket, and knelt down at the edge of the pool and dipped my hand in. It was nice and cool, and without a second thought, I crept behind the pool house and stripped down to my bra and panties, which I had made sure to match this morning. Not that I was going to have sex with him, but you never know when you may need to match. Chris was just stepping out of the pool house, a purple paintball outfit in his hand, when I shot past him and cannonballed into the pool.
When I resurfaced, he was staring at me, mouth in a perfectly comical O. I laughed and shrugged. “It’s hot out there, dude!” Chris shook his head several times, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, and then he regained control of his senses. “Oh, that’s your ass!” He started stripping off his shirt and before I had a good look at him without a top on, he belly flopped ungracefully into the pool and I swam quickly away from him. When Chris popped his head up and whipped his hair out of his face, he immediately started swimming towards me. I yelped and dove underwater and managed to pass right underneath him.

When I came up for air, Chris was almost right on top of me and he laughed, grabbing me around the middle. “You’re like a little fish.” His fingers started to tickle my sides and I began to laugh hysterically, fighting to get out of his arms. “Say Uncle! Say it! Say Chris is the Paragon of All That’s Awesome and I’ll let you go! Say it!” He goaded me mercilessly and I did the only thing I could think of, wrapped my legs around his waist and started to squeeze. He immediately let go- I knew he would. I have thighs of doom. 

Chris stared at me.

I stopped squeezing at once. “Did I hurt you?”

In answer, he leaned forward and kissed me softly.
*********************************
Chris kissed me until I couldn’t concentrate on floating by myself anymore, and I took hold of his arms and kissed him back. It wasn’t like the kissing in the car-that had been grasping, rough, as if he thought I’d dissolve any second. This was slow and mind boggling, and as it grew more heated, I become more aware of who we were and what I was doing, pressed up against a man I didn’t know all that well, in nothing but my panties and bra. Chris’s hands slipped around my back and pressed against my back, pulling me closer. I closed my eyes and tried to be somebody else, somebody else that would actually let this happen. My bitch instincts told me I should push him away before anything else happened, but Chris was not using kissing as a stepping stone to something else. He seemed content just to hold me in the cold water and brush my mouth with his, over and over. I knew that if I moved, I’d feel him poking at me, but he was a man, for Christ sakes, right? I started to tremble in his arms, and Chris finally broke away from me. “You okay?” He whispered, and I could see water hanging off his long eyelashes, his eyes darker with arousal, and his hands left my back to span my waist. I nodded, the sound of our breathing loud in the space between us. He smiled that mischievous smile at me, the one that was my favorite. “I had to do that, I’m sorry.” He murmured, and I could do nothing but shake my head. I hadn’t had any coke before I left the house for work, which is very unusual for me, and I hadn’t had time to snort any during work, and from there I had left directly for Chris’s house, with a change of clothes in a bag. The result is that I was going to get the shakes, and they wouldn’t get any better with him touching me like that. I felt my hands start trembling and Chris’s face turned to one of familiar concern.

“Nyx, are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just really cold.” I smiled at him, though it didn’t feel like a real one, and Chris looked up at the sun, which was boiling hot at this time of day, and I could tell he was confused. He reached up and pushed back a strand of hair that was in my face, then ran the pad of his thumb against my mouth. I closed my eyes at the contact. Goosebumps popped out all over my arms, and Chris noticed, muttered a curse under his breath, and gently pulled me to the steps of the pool, which rose a level at a time until they met with the concrete of the patio. He got out of the pool and grabbed me a towel, then came back to wrap it around my shoulders.

“I’ve never seen someone get so cold like that.” Chris commented, yanking his dry shirt over his head and wrapping his towel around his neck. I laughed. “I don’t know why I get like that.” “I wasn’t going too far, was I?” Chris asked quietly, watching my reaction. I snickered, though It came out looking like a grimace. “No, are you kidding me? That was…that felt…” I could not find a word at it and instead just grinned at him, and he looked very pleased.

“Where are your clothes? I’ll get them and we’ll go into the house to warm you up.”
“Behind the pool shed.” I watched him jog behind the shed and return with my clothes, and we headed inside. Chris showed me to the bathroom, gave me the paintball outfit, and told me he’d be in the kitchen. I agreed and after I closed the door, I turned on the heater, ran the water in the sink, then bent down and quietly puked into Chris Kirkpatrick’s toilet.
*****************************
Damn that girl.

When Chris had seen her run past him, straight into his pool, clad only in a pair of red striped boy shorts and a matching bra, he thought the heat was making him hallucinate. But then she had popped up, her red hair wet around her face, jeering at him, he thought of only one thing: being close to her while she was in that state. He had tried that age old tactic of tickling, and it had worked until she had wrapped her legs around his waist. Chris almost had the breath knocked out of him by the force of her legs, which were stronger then they looked, and he was suddenly aware how close she was. Immediately, he forgot the pressure and could not help himself. This time, she had let him lead her, which was shocking, because she did not seem like the type of a girl to follow, but Chris had enjoyed being in control and tried to show her that he would not take advantage of her, though she was clearly asking for it, jumping in his pool that way. And then Nyx had gotten so cold, as if from fear, that Chris felt the iciness of her body creeping into his. It had to be at least a hundred and five in the shade out there, and it was like she was standing in front of the air conditioner. He had been shocked by it but was relieved to know he hadn’t caused it. Now he was farting around in the kitchen, waiting for her to emerge.

She had been in there at least 20 minutes now and Chris was fighting the urge to go and check on her, when she suddenly emerged from the bathroom in the bulky purple paintball outfit, looking a little pale, but ready to go, nevertheless. “Your sister is about the same size as me. Lucky me.” She smiled at him, looking down at herself. “Yeah, she’s not too great at paintball, so she won’t care if you use it.” Chris replied, then looked at the clock and grimaced. “Shit, we’re going to be late, let’s go.”

Chris didn’t have much music on his Iphone, so Nyx hooked up her Itouch and played some of her music for him, mostly Avenged Sevenfold, her favorite band. He liked them a lot and tried singing along with the songs, and Nyx just laughed at him and mock headbanged, which made him howl with laughter. It wasn’t long until they reached the same paintball arena where they had met for the second time, but they had a good time in the car, listening to AC/DC and Def Leppard too, and by the time they arrived at the paintball field, Nyx was losing some of her paleness and was ready to “slit some throats”, as she put it. There was a good bit of celebrities playing today and some paparazzi had turned out for the event, but Chris managed to sneak Nyx past them into the special tent that he and his friends had rented out for the event. He introduced her to some of his friends, some of them members of Nigels 11. Chris was instantly relieved to see that Nyx got on well with them-she was evidently used to hanging around with guys, and she responded to their teasing in kind. They gave raised eyebrows to Chris, who wasn’t very open about the girls he dated, but he just grinned, shrugging. Their tent was masked from the public until the event started, so Chris felt okay with letting her walk around without her helmet. The paparazzi weren’t usually interested in him, but they would take pictures of her, and he didn’t know how she’d react to it. Five minutes before the event started, they got ready to open their tent, and Chris helped Nyx put on her helmet and equipped her with a gun, which she seemed to be happy about. The announcer’s voice came over the PA and Chris’s group opened their tent. He was used to the sound of rapid fire cameras, but it wasn’t until that everyone was let loose onto the field that he realized how tiny she seemed next to all of them, and he knew that the paparazzi would be watching that.

The game was fast paced and brutal, and sometimes he couldn’t see Nyx, but at one point they were hiding behind the same obstacle, and he yelled, “Are you having fun?!”

“Fuck yeah!” Nyx replied, then pulled his head down to shoot someone behind him. Chris laughed and then two teams converged on them and all hell broke loose. Eventually Chris was captured and the next time he saw Nyx, she was shooting at him with her black paintballs, and she was good, damn good, able to hide in tight spots because of her size and hard to sneak up on because of it. Chris got her a good one in the ass, but she made shooting him her number one priority and by the time the tournament ended, he was splattered with black. They didn’t win first place, but came in second, and the guys on his team gave Nyx the medal, for she had busted the most ass in the game. When they met up again in the tent, Chris almost collapsed into laughter when he saw Nyx covered in every color of the rainbow, bumping into things because she couldn’t get her helmet off. After he had taken her helmet off and seen all the pink and yellow in her hair and the sunburn on her face, he couldn’t stop laughing, even though Nyx was fussing at him. The guys on his team clapped her on the back, they hugged her, they teased Chris about her and doted on her like Chris knew they would. It was the first time he had seen a smile on her face for an entire day, and he was very happy that he had brought her. The guys went to WOW and brought celebratory WOW-Ritas for everyone, causing everyone to get quite silly.

And then a nosy little shithead cameraman sneaked into the private tents and started taking pictures, and when Chris saw him coming, he grabbed Nyx’s arm. “Nyx, come with me, quick…” But he was too late and he felt sick as the photographer leaped at her, snapping away. Nyx wasn’t having any of it, though, and in front of his whole crew and some of the other teams, she jumped down the guy’s neck and pushed him out of the tent. Chris was shocked, but impressed, and she earned a few more nods of approval from his friends. It started getting dark and people were beginning to pack up and leave, but Chris’ party was still going strong, and the WOW-Ritas kept coming and people kept getting sillier and sillier.

Chris’ friend Dave had brought a digital camera and started taking pictures, and when he turned the lens on Chris and Nyx, Chris was pretty sure Nyx wouldn’t go for it, but to his surprise, she threw her paint spattered arm around his shoulders and offered up her little side smile.

And Chris realized that try as he might, he was getting very close to falling in love.
*************************************************
Christobel and Alan weren’t at home when they saw the news, which was essentially a good thing because after Alan watched it, he was sure he’d have a heart attack in front of his parents, and that would never do. They had been eating dinner at Alan’s parents, which was a stressful and very dry sort of occasion, with formal dress and full china, but with the unconventional effect of the senior Crane’s plasma TV full blast on the opposite wall. Alan’s father had a compulsive need to watch the news, both national and local, even during dinner, even though his wife hated it and spoke at length many times about throwing a vase at the damn thing. The senior Crane had been flipping idly through, ignoring his wife’s silent anger, when he had settled on a paintball tournament that had been filmed earlier in the area.

“Celebrities turned out for the All Star Paintball tournament today at Bay Park, ready to raise money for leukemia patients at St. Jude’s Hospital. Among the famous names were Pink, the Jonas Brothers, alternative band Fall Out Boy, and boyband popstar Chris Kirkpatrick, formerly of the group *NSYNC. The celebs raised at least $10,000…”

Alan froze in his seat as he recognized Christopher Kirkpatrick smiling on the screen, he felt his insides ice over. His dad grunted. “Damn fool celebrities and their stupid causes…” He raised the remote, about to change the channel, but then Alan saw the unmistakable red hair of his Nyx, sweaty, paint splattered and sunburned, grinning next to Chris as their team was presented with a medal. Christobel choked on her chicken and Alan started coughing. “Don’t turn it off, Dad!”

“Why not, son?” The older man barked, but Christobel answered him, sneering.

“It’s her on TV, Alan’s ex girlfriend.”

“That girl with the strange name? The waitress?” Crane senior barked, and Alan nodded, not able to speak. “Why ever is she on television, Alan?” His mother asked imperiously, her nose turning up in her natural dislike of Nyx. It was one of the many things that Christobel and Alan’s mother had in common-their intense hatred of Alan’s ex.

Christobel answered for Alan. “She’s dating that boy band popstar. He came around our house, taking her on a date. Why he wants her, God only knows.”

Crane senior cast a sneering look at Christobel; he was the only one of the family who approved of Nyx and did not enjoy Christobel’s company. “Young miss, at least your cousin makes no lies about who she is.”

Christobel was struck silent by the old man’s word and could not defend herself, instead she tore into her chicken with newfound violence and Alan resisted the urge to vomit all over his mother’s Persian rugs. Nyx was on TV, with that damn guy, and now things could only get worse.
*********************************************
“I’m never going to get this shit out of my hair!” I complained, pulling a strand in front of my face and grimacing.

“You’ll get it out, but it’ll take a shitload of shampoo.” Chris informed me as we got out of his car, still in our paintball outfits, though mine was unzipped and Chris was almost out of his, open to his waist. I helped him take his stuff into the house and we stripped out of the suits in his mudroom, leaving him in boxers and me in a wifebeater and shorts. Chris’ eyes crinkled as they looked me up and down. “You’re sunburned on your face. It’s really cute, but I should have given you some sunscreen.”

“What’s war without a little pain?” I jeered, and he snickered. “War, huh? Yeah, you were crazy out there, girl. You’ve got some serious bloodlust in you. I thought you were going to shoot the Jonas’ brothers legs off!”

I scoffed. “Well, how am I supposed to show respect to a bunch of male teenagers who allow themselves to be placed on the pink team?! And Pink pissed me off cause she was on the yellow team! I mean, Jesus, consistency, people!”

Chris chuckled. “You tell em, sister.”

“I will. That was a great time, Chris. Thanks a lot.” I said earnestly, grinning at him. Chris returned it and reached over to squeeze my hand. “You’re very welcome, I’m glad I invited you. The guys like you a lot. I’m sorry about that cameraman, though.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “He’ll think twice before he invades personal space again.”
Chris sniggered at my bravado and led me into his kitchen. I pulled myself up to sit on his kitchen counter, and when he turned around from the sink, he saw me and promptly started coughing and choking. I made a move to jump off, but he held out his hand, smiling a little to himself, though I didn’t know why.
“You ready to go dancing?” He wanted to know, leaning against the counter and looking at me in a way that made me immediately self conscious of myself.
“If I can get this shit out of my hair, I guess I have no choice.” I said dryly, and Chris pursed his lips. “Aw, Nyx, you always have a choice…just not about this.”
I did a snort and eyeroll combo, and he looked amused, but said nothing more and still continued to look at me that way over the rim of his glass. It was making me fuzzy, and to tell you the truth, I was feeling extremely sick, but I had fought it back and managed to concentrate on the paintball game and having fun with Chris’s friends. I had eaten nothing and snorted no coke and had nothing but Wow-Ritas in my belly, and when I looked down at Chris’s black tiled floor, I felt my head started to spin. Before I could fall over, I felt Chris’s arms bracing me.

“Whoa, Nyx, stay with me, babe.”

“Sorry.” I said drowsily, and Chris grasped the top of my arms. “Nyx, when was the last time you ate?”

“A sandwich at work.” I managed to say, before I felt something give way in my nose and I clapped my hand over my face.

“Can you get me an old rag or an old towel or a paper towel or something, please?” I asked Chris, my voice muffled, and Chris looked at me in alarm, but quickly made a towel bag with ice, then pulled my hand gently away from my face and held the cold cloth up to my bleeding nose.

“I’m sorry, I’m a mess.” I apologized, feeling embarrassed.

Chris shook his head. “Nah, it’s okay. I should have gotten you something to eat, I suck at taking care of you, Nyx.”

I smiled weakly. “You’re not my Dad.”

“Good thing, I’d be a horrible one.” He said breezily, but I could see he was still concerned. “This is familiar.” I tried to joke, looking pointedly down at his hand holding the towel to my nose, and Chris smiled at me. “Yeah, it is. Now hush up and let me take care of you.” I obeyed, cowed.

We stood there in silence, just watching each other, for what seemed like eternity. He seemed hell bent on making sure I was okay, and what was weird is that he seemed to enjoy that duty. I hated to keep on breaking out in nosebleeds around him, he was no fool, sooner or later he’d figure it out or think there was something wrong with me and stop hanging around, and despite my nature I did not want that to happen. Chris pulled the towel away from my nose and inspected it. “You’re good now, but I’m going to order a pizza and you’re going to eat or I’m going to hold you down and make you eat it.”

I rolled my eyes. “Ooh, promise?”

Chris gave me a Look, but moved between my legs, and I immediately tensed up. He smelled like grass and boy and paint, but I rather liked that combination and I sucked in my breath as his hands slowly ran up my legs. I tried to remember if I had shaved, then lost all train of thought.

“Chris…” I murmured, and his grip moved to my waist as he leaned his forehead against mine. “What?” He whispered, his breath brushing against my hot face.
“You stink.” I whispered back, and he grinned. “You do too.” He squeezed my waist, and with surprising strength, he picked me up and set me down on the floor.

“Last thing I need is for you to be falling off this thing and knocking yourself out while I’m on the phone.” He commented wryly, and as I flipped him off, he just shook his head and laughed at me, like I was nothing to be worried about.

After pizza, I left to go back to Alan and Christobel’s house to take a shower, despite Chris’ insistence that I use his. I couldn’t do that-I didn’t trust myself with the man. For a guy who acted a class clown and had the reputation for being the “weird” one, he certainly knew the right way to push my buttons, and my buttons were pretty rusty. In one second he could go from teasing, smartass Chris to tender, sensual Chris, and it was confusing and left me hot and weak kneed and he knew it.

I kept telling myself to be firm with him, to not let him get away with all his stolen caresses and looks, but I couldn’t. It would be like kicking a puppy. And Lord only knows what he might try to do to me tonight under the pretense of dancing. I went to the bathroom immediately after walking into my room, drew a bath, and attempted to scrub the living shit out of my skin.

Taking a bath took longer then usual because I kept getting out to puke. I felt horrible and I was sweating buckets, but I forced myself to wash my hair, and that took forever. I used up my entire bottle of shampoo getting that damn paint out and then half of my conditioner. After I was sure I had it all out, I tied it back and sat at the foot of the toilet for what seemed like forever. The thought of going out there in the dark heat of a dance club and having to put on a façade made me even sicker, but I didn’t want to call the night off. After ensuring there was nothing in my stomach, I got dressed and called Amparo for some Tylenol and water. Her brown eyes were filled with pity as she handed them over to me, and I had to look away from her. Pity is forbidden with me. I had no clothes that were really appropriate for dancing, but I managed to sneak one of Christobel’s shimmery slutty halter tops out of her room, even though I had never dressed like that. I paired it with dark capris and ballet shoes, then tried to hide my tired eyes with makeup. The overall effect was pretty good, I had to admit, but I hated myself for dressing like this just because I was falling for Chris. For a second I considered slipping onto a nice Ed Hardy and a pair of jeans, but I stopped myself.

If Chris wanted to drive me crazy, fine, I’d give him that, but return it three fold.
*****************************
“Chris! Hey, Baio! I’m here, where the living hell are you?!” I called into the quiet house as I let myself in. Chris was nowhere in sight and I couldn’t hear him, which was weird because the man couldn’t enter a room without making some sort of noise. I looked everywhere, but Chris wasn’t around, so I walked out into the backyard. I found him immediately, lying out on a lawn chair, apparently asleep. I tiptoed around to face him and was struck by how childlike he looked while sleeping. He looked sixteen, not thirty seven, and my breath caught despite myself. Perfect. He was perfect. What was I doing, fucking with his life?
His eyes opened suddenly and he straightened up and blinked up at me.

“Nyx?”

“Yeah? Who else?” I grinned down at him.

Chris reached up and took my hand. “My god, Nyx, you look amazing. Wow. Come here.”

I swallowed a large lump in my throat as he pulled me down to his level, scooting over so that I could sit next to him.

“You’ve been holding out on me, girl.” He whistled appreciatively and I blushed.

“This shirt is Christobel’s.”

“Well, you look fucking delicious in it. Eat your heart out, bitch!” He yelled the last part into the dark, muggy night, and I laughed, even though I wanted to cry. “You look good yourself, Kirkpatrick.”

He thanked me, but really he looked fucking amazing. Black bandanna with jeans and a black Affliction shirt-rawr.

“You ready to get freaky?” Chris made a stupid face, and I couldn’t help myself, I started giggling. “If it involves that face, then no thanks.”

“Aw, no, I’ll give you my Barry White impersonation.” Chris gave me a very exaggerated sexy look, puckering his lips, and I could not stop laughing. “You know, gay guys make that face. It works for you.”

Chris shook his head. “Nope, I’ve got love for my gay brothers, but I am 100% all American heterosexual male, girl. Never have doubt about that. Though that top does look FABUUULOUS.”

That did it, I collapsed on top of him with uncontrollable giggles. He seemed delighted in making me laugh and continued to tease me and make stupid faces for my benefit. By the time we left the house to go to the club, my stomach hurt from all our cracking up.

That’s the one thing he could always do-make me laugh when I felt like crying.
*************************************************
I remembered instantly why I hated clubbing-the drunk assholes, the shitty expensive drinks, the crappy music, but because Chris was there with me, and some of the guys from the paintball party, it seemed less lame and more, I don’t know, magical or some shit. The DJ was a friend of Chris’ and always started playing old music like Def and Aerosmith and that sort of stuff when he walked in, so I didn’t feel too alienated. Chris and I had a few drinks and I met the DJ, who allowed me to try my hand at spinning some records. I was abysmal at it, but Chris just laughed.

We went up in VIP (that was sort of cool) and hung out with Chris’ friends, who seemed to be happy that I had joined them, and all of them asked to dance with me at one point, making Chris give them mock angry looks. That made me feel sort of good inside, though I didn’t want to admit it to myself. I was a bit uncomfortable, out of my element, after all, I hadn’t been clubbing since high school, but I guess you can take the girl away from Bourbon, yet you can’t take the Bourbon out of a girl. I was also worried I’d start having a nosebleed or needing to puke, since my skin was crawling and I was scared everyone could see it, but it was dark and nobody seemed to notice. After awhile of feeling nothing but mere queasiness, I began to enjoy myself. Chris appeared from out of nowhere, plucked my drink out of my hand, then gently led me downstairs to the dance floor. I gulped. Here goes nothing.

The DJ started playing Rihanna and though I’m not a fan of rap or R&B, I automatically slipped into Bourbon mode and my hips remembered what to do. Chris chuckled at first, but he wasn’t laughing when I pressed up against him and started moving. He was a great dancer, as I had predicted, and when he pulled me around and close to him, his hand on the small of my back and his eyes on mine, I felt daring, like I hadn’t for years. We danced for what seemed like hours, and we danced to everything, rap, mixed up rock, R&B- and I couldn’t believe how much fun I was having. I hadn’t smiled like this in forever, and for the first time I wasn’t thinking about the need for a drink or a snort or pills. Chris reluctantly handed me over to his friends while he took a breather, and I had fun with them, but when Chris came back, they moved aside and let him near me. He didn’t kiss me on the mouth the entire time, but I had expected that in public-I was happy enough to feel his hands on my bare skin and his mouth brushing against my throat when we got close. The last song of the night was a Jackson 5 remix and everyone went fucking batty, including Chris. I just laughed and tried to keep up, but I stood no chance. Chris knew all the moves, having done the song for one of his tours, and I was in amazement. He was hamming it up, but watching him dance made me sort of hot.

We didn’t leave the club for awhile, even after it closed, and by then we were all pretty sloshed and Chris’ friends put us in a cab. Chris was wired, even though it was close to 3am and I was almost dead on my feet. “I haven’t gone nuts like that in awhile.” He admitted, and I laughed softly. “Me either. Probably since high school. It was a blast, though.” “I thought I was going to have to teach you a few things, but you rocked the boat, girl, I’m impressed!” Chris teased, and I swatted him. “Of course I can rock the boat, boy.”

“You’re not lying. You were driving me nuts.” Chris buried his face in my hair and I saw the cab driver look at us in the rearview mirror.

“You’re pretty drunk, you need to go to sleep.” I told him, but he shook his head.

“I couldn’t sleep if you paid me.”

“What’d they put in those drinks, crack? You have more energy then five year old kids.” I observed, and he nuzzled my forehead. “That’s what Joey used to say about me. Pure sugar.”

“Well, Joey wasn’t lying.” I stopped the cabdriver and gave him some money, and helped Chris up his driveway, fumbling in his pocket for his house keys. I wasn’t sure I could get him upstairs, so I put him in his computer room on the spare bed. Chris groaned as his head hit the pillow.

“Captain, I’m drunk.”
“I know you are, Baio.” I pulled off his shoes, thinking how odd it was for me to be taking care of someone else like this. “Are you drunk?” He wanted to know, raising his head off the pillow.

“Desperately.”

“Come lay down with me.” Chris slurred, and I smiled, even though I felt incredibly sick.

“I have to go home, Chris.”

“Don’t go home, I’ll behave myself, I promise.” Chris pointed at me, and I snickered.

“I’m not worried about my virtue.”

“Then why you leavin?” Chris muttered, and I tucked a blanket around him.

“Because if I don’t leave, how can I come back?” I whispered, and one of his eyes opened, unfocused.

“Will you come back, though?”

I just smiled.

**********************************************
After leaving Chris a pot, a glass of water, and some Pepto Bismol, I quietly let myself out of his house and crept down the street towards Alan’s. I barely got to the front step without throwing up, and before I had a chance to put my key in the door, it was wrenched open and I nearly fell inside. Christobel was waiting, like bad news.

Christobel had an entire arsenal in place, but when she saw me, her mouth stretched in a strange shape when she saw her shirt upon my body. “What the fuck are you doing, wearing my shirt?”

“Relax, dammit, it’s not like anybody appreciates you in it.” I mumbled, really not in the mood for her self righteous bullshit.

“Fucking cunt. Now you’re stealing? Great, I should throw you out on your ass, Nyx. You can go stay with that boy band guy you’re probably screwing, and he can deal with your lying and drugging and stealing.” Christobel was right behind me as I doggedly climbed the stairs, and her voice was like dropping an anvil on my skull.
“Shut the fuck up about him.” I threatened, turning to face her.

“Christobel. Stop fucking around with Nyx and come to bed.” I saw Alan’s tired face appear below us in the foyer, but Christobel didn’t listen to him.

“We saw you on TV, like you were something special, like you were famous. If any of those people, especially your little boyfriend, knew that you spend your nights snorting up everything you can, it would be the end of you, and you know it.”

“Christobel!” Alan was at the bottom of the steps now, but she was like a dog with a bone.

“In fact, I should tell him myself, maybe that would get your ass out of Florida and stop fucking up our lives and go back to that shitty ass state where you belong…”
That was it, the threat to tell Chris was the straw that broke the camel’s back and I wheeled around and barely restrained myself from decking the bitch and knocking her ass down the stairs. I let my eyes do the talking and stalked her down the stairs until she backed into Alan, too cowed to speak.

“If you say a word, I’ll ruin your life, bitch.” I spoke quietly and at the moment there was so much familiar hate inside of me that the entire day spent with Chris might as well had never happened.

Alan looked down at the floor and shook his head. Christobel was trembling. I leaned closer to her ear.

“You know I can.”

And with that, I turned and stomped upstairs.

When I got into the room, I ripped off Christobel’s shirt with my bare hands and went straight for the coke underneath my bed. I did thirteen lines, straight in a row, kicked off my shoes, dove under the covers, and managed to sleep for 16 hours.
***********************************************
Chris woke up with a hangover that slammed him directly between the eyes. He promptly rolled over and puked, most of it landing into a pot placed strategically next to the bed. “Nyx,” He thought gratefully, and almost cried with relief when he saw the glass of water and Pepto Bismol on his desk. He drank the entire glass of water and gulped down the Pepto Bismol, then immediately fell back onto the bed, hands over his eyes. Chris dimly remembered a shimmering top and her face floating just out of his reach, someone taking off his shoes and covering him with a blanket. He groaned, hoping that he had not said or done anything stupid, but more then likely, he had, hence the reason for Nyx not being anywhere around.
And she had been pretty plastered too, Chris thought, and his insides gave a painful lurch as he remembered that she had probably walked back home in the dark. Granted, his neighborhood couldn’t get any safe then it already was, but still, he was worried. He groped his person for his Iphone and found laying under the blanket, miraculously in one piece. He dialed Nyx, wincing when her ringback tone drove little spikes of pain into his head. She didn’t answer, and it went to voicemail.

“Nyx, this is Chris. Give me a call back when you get this, so I can make sure you’re okay. I have the worst hangover in the fucking world. Thanks for leaving that stuff out for me, you’re a doll. Please call me. Later.”

He hung up and promptly crashed out.
****************************************************
When I finally peeled my eyes open around 6:00 that next day, I thought I was in the throes of death. I was covered in sweat, my entire body was freezing, there was blood caked on the front of my white shirt (when had I put on a shirt?) and my mouth felt like someone had crammed dirty cotton into it. A headache raged behind my head and the sunburn from yesterday was in full effect, adding insult to injury.

“You’re finally awake.”

I turned my head to the side with much difficulty and saw Alan’s head popping up from the floor, his eyes bleary and his blonde hair a mess.
“Why are you on the floor?” I murmured-talking was like raking a razorblade down my voicebox.

“I had to call a doctor for you, Nyx. You were puking up blood again, not to mention a temperature of almost 102 degrees.”

“He didn’t take me to the hospital?” I asked weakly, and Alan shook his head.
“I can’t take you to the hospital now. You were all over TV, Nyx. Someone will recognize you.”

I rolled my eyes and even THAT action hurt. “What the shit are you talking about?”
Alan sighed in exasperation. “We saw you on TV at the paintball thing, Nyx. You were with Chris, and people know it now, and I’m not taking the chance of bringing you to a local hospital where someone might leak it to the press.”

“That’s ridiculous. Chris said that the paparazzi don’t even care about him anymore.” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

“They WILL care if the girl he’s hanging around with comes into the hospital with coke and liquor in her. So I got a doctor to come to you.”

“Alan, you have to stop this. Why do you care if someone finds me out? I thought you didn’t want me with Chris.” I was thoroughly confused and it was making me irritated, which in turn was making me feel worse. Alan stood to his feet and glowered over me.

“It’s not just for you and Chris’s benefit, Nyx. If people find out I’m harboring you in my house, things will go apeshit. And I may not like you and Chris together, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to be a total dick about it.” Alan sighed, pulling up a chair close to the bed and taking my hand between his.

“I’m sorry, Alan.” I whispered, and he squeezed my hand.

“Stop apologizing, damn you. Nyx, you NEED to stop. You have to. The doctor wanted to admit you very badly but I made him do all he could here. He said if you don’t stop, you’ll fucking die. And if you fucking die, I’ll hunt you down and kill you twice for leaving me here with your fucking cousin.”

I scoffed. “That’s bullshit. I’m not going to die. Where the hell did you get this jackoff doctor, anyway?”

“He’s my parents’ physician and he’s not a crackpot. Your liver is going to fail, and you’re losing too much weight. You don’t sleep unless you pass out, and you get migraines and nosebleeds because your nose is being destroyed. If you don’t get help, I’ll drag you out of this house and put you in rehab myself. And if you decide to be with Chris, then you either have to tell him or stop. This is just not about you anymore. You have a family in another state and friends that love you. I love you. And I’m pretty damn sure that Chris is getting close to that point, too.”

I groaned and turned my head away from his guilt trip. Everything he was saying was true, and I spent most of my time ignoring the fact that one of these days, cocaine was going to win, and I was going to lose.

“Isn’t any of that important to you anymore?” Alan whispered, gripping my hand.
I looked back at him and sighed, pulling my hand away and wiping my nose with it.
“I want to stop, Alan. I do.” I whispered, trying not to start crying.

“Then let’s try, Nyx. I’ll put you in rehab. I’ll be glad to pay the bill. Christobel can bitch until the cows come home, but I don’t give a shit. You can stop this crap and be healthy, you won’t have to be a slave to yourself anymore. Please, give it a try, for me. And if you don’t want to do it for me, do it for Chris.”

I shook my head. “If I do it, I do it for me.”

Alan looked sad, but he managed a smile. “Whatever. Will you do it?”

I stared up at the ceiling. “I can’t promise you anything, Alan, except that I’ll try.”

He rested his forehead on my clammy hand. “Then that’s all I ask.”
**********************************************

Woke up to that familiar feeling
Staring at an unfamiliar ceiling
Still got your jeans on but you're topless
Headache and the stomach feels nauseous
Grab your shirt off the bedroom floor
And trying to recollect the night before
How'd you get from the bar to this mattress?
And when you got here then what happened?
And where's the who that lives here?
In this house you wanna figure out how'd you get here
But the thought got cut by nature
Find the bathroom the gut got anger
Here it comes can't avoid it
Ain't the first time throwin' up in a strange toilet
Anyone else would leave but
You crawl back to the bed and fall back asleep

All we need is because
So come and party with us
Take care of you when you're passed out
Right there with you in your glasshouse