Luxe (23 page)

Bleu sat at the table in the corner and pulled out her books as she yawned. Her phone beeped loudly and she quickly silenced it. She picked it up.

TEXT MESSAGE

IMAN

You're hard to keep up with, beautiful. Should a nigga take a hint and get lost?

Bleu smiled. If only he knew exactly how much she was feeling him. It slightly amused her that a man with his experience with women was tripping so hard over her. She was flattered, to say the least.

TEXT MESSAGE

BLEU

I'm sorry. I'm getting ready for finals. Been studying for like a week. At the library. I promise I'll call you tonight when I make it back to my room.

She waited for his response, but when she received none she turned off her phone and opened her books. The thought of him made her smile as she tried her hardest to concentrate. She powered off her phone, because as long as it was on she would be anticipating his next words. She yawned again and this time she noticed exactly how exhausted she felt. Her eyes were starting to blur. Days without sleep were beginning to catch up to her, and the bags she felt as she rubbed her weary eyes only confirmed it. She rested her head on her clenched fist, forcing herself to read the pages in front of her. Stopping wasn't an option, at least not a voluntary one, but when her eyes began to close without her even realizing it, there was no use in fighting it.

I just need to rest my eyes for a minute.…

Then minutes mistakenly became hours.

*   *   *

“Hmm-hmm.”

Bleu snapped out of her sleep in alarm as she felt the presence over her shoulder. She turned around, slightly alarmed until she saw him. Iman. He towered over her, handsome as ever as he gave her a charming wink.

“What are you doing here?” she asked as her face melted into a smile.

“I know you're busy with the school thing and all, but I figured you got to eat, right?” he suggested as he held up a bag from the best burger joint in town. “Last time you said I was too fancy with the chef and all that, so I opted for a college-girl meal.” He winked. She smiled. Iman grabbed her hand. “You look tired, ma; everything a'ight?”

She thought about telling him about how she had slipped up, how her scholarship was in jeopardy, but decided against it. It wasn't his problem and she didn't want to weigh the air down with negativity. “Everything's perfect now that you're here,” she assured him.

Iman looked at her for a moment, letting time skip a beat as he took her in. She was back to her normal self, although her fashion had stepped up quite a bit. True Religions, Converse kicks, a UCLA hoodie, and a Polo hat. Her long weave was pulled into a ponytail to the back. She was casual, resembling the small-town girl he had first met. He loved her in this state.

“What?” she asked as she fidgeted from his intense stare.

“You're dope,” he complimented.

“I know,” she chuckled in response.

“Is there somewhere more private we can go? The little librarian gave me the death stare when she saw me come in here with this food.”

Bleu laughed as she gathered her stuff and stood. “Yeah, we can go upstairs to the third floor. There shouldn't be much of anybody up there this time of night,” she responded.

He placed his hand on the small of her back as they made their way. “You got me out here like a lovesick teenager, ma,” he said. “I feel like I'm sweating you and shit.”

“That's a bad thing?” she asked. They stepped onto the elevator and she leaned against the wall as he invaded her space.

“I don't even do young chicks, the mind-set ain't right, but with you everything is different, Bleu. You make me feel things I haven't felt in a very long time. I've been through a lot. Seen a lot. Lived a lot. I want to be honest with you about everything. There are a lot of things you are unaware of. Things you should know before you give me your heart,” he said. He caressed her face as he spoke, and his eyes told a story of pain that made Bleu's heart beat nervously in response.

“I think it's too late,” she answered. “I've never been in love, so I don't know if that's what I'm feeling, but—”

She didn't even have a chance to finish her sentence before Iman's lips covered hers. Their kiss was slow, like a forbidden dance. He held her so gently that she quivered. She was young, and she knew that Iman would throw her entire world off track, but nothing … absolutely nothing had ever felt this good. It was too hard to stop from falling down that slippery slope. He lifted her leg around his waist and palmed her ass. He needed her. She could feel it … this energy between them thickened the oxygen around them, making it hard to breathe. This thing of theirs was magnetic, and if souls really could mate they would produce generational love for years to come. They were so wrapped up in each other that they didn't even notice the elevator doors open until …

“Ms. Montclair.”

The even tone of disdain belonged to Professor Davis. Bleu immediately pulled away from Iman in embarrassment, straightening her clothes as her eyes widened in horror.

“Professor Davis … I … umm, we—”

“I'm glad to see you're using your time wisely, Ms. Montclair,” Professor Davis said sarcastically. “One would think you would at least try to keep your place here, but apparently it isn't a priority.”

Bleu and Iman exited the elevator as Professor Davis entered.

Bleu had no response. She knew how bad things looked. She was blowing her opportunity at UCLA. She and the professor both knew it. Respect was earned and Bleu had none reserved with Professor Davis. Bleu had done absolutely nothing to prove that she even deserved her scholarship. As the elevator doors closed she wanted to say something in her own defense, but what could she say? At this point she had to show and prove. Words meant nothing and the look of disgust on her professor's face spoke volumes. The doors closed and Bleu sighed as she placed her hands over her face.

“I'm such a fucking idiot,” she said aloud as tears overwhelmed her. She was tired as hell, edgy, embarrassed, and completely in over her head. A breakdown was inevitable.

Iman pulled her into him. “Shh, it's okay, ma. I'm sure you're not the first student she's caught kissing her boyfriend in an elevator,” he said. He was clueless to her dilemma. Her entire life had been one long struggle, and she was about to earn a one-way ticket back to Flint.

“You don't understand,” she whispered.

“Can I do anything to help?” he asked.

She nodded as he wiped her tears with his thumb. “You can give me a ride back to my hall? I can't do this with you. Not tonight. She's right. I should be focused. Finals are in a few days. I know this seems young and dumb to you, but it's important and I have to focus.”

He nodded and wrapped his arms around her. This young woman had his heart on a string. There wasn't much that she could ask of him that he wouldn't oblige. He could see that she needed him to fall back for a while. She seemed like she was wound tight, obsessing and stressing over her schooling. He could dig it and he would play the game by her rules in order to make things easier.

*   *   *

The amount of cloud smoke that Bleu was hit with as she entered her room slapped her in the face. China sat near the open window, blowing trees. The smell of weed was so potent that Bleu knew what was going on before she even stepped inside. The towels that had lined the bottom of the door did little to keep the scent inside.

“I can smell that shit all the way from the hall,” Bleu said as she flung her backpack toward her desk. “Why can't you do that in Aysha's room? You know I don't smoke.”

China waved Bleu over and patted the spot beside her. “Relax, Bleu. You're wound kind of tight. It's finals week. Everybody in the dorm is probably doing the same thing right now. There's nothing wrong with taking the edge off and getting a little pick-me-up.”

China inhaled a blunt filled with “purple” Kush. She held it in her lungs before choking it out with a cough and a laugh. “For you to be from the hood, you're real square, you know that, Bleu?” she asked.

Bleu scoffed and shook her head. “Not square; weed isn't my thing, though. Have you seen niggas roll blunts? All that spit is digusting.”

China put out the blunt and hopped off the windowsill as she pulled at the boy shorts she wore. “Well, lucky for you I've got a pipe,” China said. China went over to her desk and prepared the pipe before coming back to the window.

“Just relax, girl. This will make you forget all of those worries. This is that good shit. Just close your eyes and inhale,” China instructed.

Bleu thought about saying no, but honestly, getting high sounded like the perfect solution to her problems. She just wanted to zone out for a while.

“Just do it. It's just a little smoke,” China convinced her.

Bleu closed her eyes and wrapped her lips around the pipe as China put the flame underneath. She inhaled and then instantly choked and coughed as the vapor seemed to burn her lungs.

China held the pipe to Bleu's lips again. “Hit it again,” she coached. “You'll get used to it.”

Bleu swept a loose hair behind her ear and leaned over the pipe again.

This time she didn't choke, and as the seconds ticked by she felt a warmness flow through her.

Instant gratification.

Bleu's mind became a blank canvas as the pressure she felt miraculously dissolved. Her nipples pressed against the fabric of her T-shirt and her clit swelled.

“It's hot in here.” She moaned out the words as her body slipped into a euphoric state. “This is some good shit,” she whispered as she licked her lips. “I never knew weed could feel this good.”

“Weed can't,” China said. “You just hit meth.”

Suddenly it sounded as though China were speaking French as Bleu's eyes blurred. Fear of the unknown seized her.

“What?” Bleu asked. “Why would you—”

“Relaaaax,” China said. “You hit it now. No point in tripping. Just enjoy the high and thank me later. The high with meth is amazing, but the comedown is rough. Especially for your first time. When you start feeling like crap, sleep it off.”

Bleu wanted to be mad, she wanted to go off, but the good feelings that were coursing through her convinced her that she couldn't be too upset.
Besides, I can't get hooked after one time, right?
she thought.
Anybody can quit something that they've only done once.

Bleu's mind was in a happy place because although she was pissed she felt anything but. Her week had been hard and this mental break was much needed.
Fuck it, this could be my last week in L.A. If I fail these finals I'm out of here anyway. Fuck Professor Davis. Who gives a damn what she thinks? Might as well enjoy the little time I have left here,
she thought. She wasn't even tripping when she watched China refill the pipe; this time she didn't hide the glass shards. Wasn't any need for further trickery. Bleu wanted more of this bliss … this ecstasy. It was like someone had handed her the key to happiness. Her heart skipped a beat in anticipation as a light sweat developed on her forehead as she watched how China prepared the pipe. Bleu fanned herself as her body temperature rose in reaction to her first blast. China held up the pipe once more. Bleu's first hit had been under false pretenses, she hadn't known what she was smoking, but this time she was more than willing as she sucked the vapors into her lungs. Her head fell back in complete bliss as she closed her eyes.

“It feels like my arms are going numb,” she whispered. She began to scratch at them as she felt tiny legs crawling up her skin.

“Don't scratch,” China schooled her. “Just rub. There isn't anything there. It's just the high. The last thing we need is you digging holes in your skin, walking around looking like a meth head. Be discreet. As long as you don't fall into the traps, no one will ever know you're using it.”

“I'm not using it,” Bleu said quickly, defensively. “You make it sound like I'm hooked.”

China held up her hands innocently. “I didn't mean it like that. I'm just saying … I'm trying to look out for you.”

“This is a onetime thing,” Bleu said.

“How do you feel?” China asked.

Bleu stood up and hung out of the window as she looked over the campus and shouted, “I feel alive!” She burst into a fit of laughter as she climbed up on the windowsill. “Whooo!!” she shouted, feeling as if she could finally breathe a sigh of relief. Nothing had changed, but the drugs had warped her mind into believing that her problems didn't exist. “I don't want to sit in this dusty-ass room. Let's go out. Call Bree; where's Aysha? Let's get into something.”

“Chill, party girl. Everybody's wrapped up in their own thing. We all have finals to get ready for,” China said.

She passed Bleu the remainder of her stash. She supplied Bleu with an eight-ball, more than any beginner was ready for. “Can you handle that?”

“I told you, I'm not doing this again,” Bleu replied.

China nodded and then put her stash back into her drawer. “Okay,” she said while giving Bleu a skeptical look. China knew how easy it was to get caught up in the euphoric rush. She noticed the stars in Bleu's widened eyes. She was tweaking and in outer space. China had just introduced Bleu to an abusive lover. It was making her feel good now, but it wouldn't be long before the pleasure eventually became pain.

 

19

Thirty-six hours later

Bleu's fingers cramped as they moved across the keyboard at lightning speed. Her brain was working harder than it ever had but, with the help of her new secret weapon, she didn't sweat it. She had written three research papers so far. What had taken other students an entire semester to do she had done in hours. What she had promised herself would be one hit had turned into a run of repeated doses. She didn't know that the high would last for a while, so in fear of it disappearing she kept re-upping. This new level of productivity was addictive and the rush was unlike anything she had ever felt before. Every time it felt like it could be going away she itched for more. It was like good sex or good food; one taste had her coming back again and again. The Adderall had made her focus, but it hadn't been enough. She had still felt tired and the effects of no sleep had made her feel like a walking zombie. With meth, she felt limitless. She didn't even realize that she hadn't slept. Between the days on Adderall and now the meth, she was coming up on day six without rest. It didn't matter that she had bags under her eyes or that her appearance was slightly disheveled. She didn't even care that she had forgotten to eat. She felt like Superwoman and as long as she was flying through the schoolwork she had no complaints. She was geeking and going through life at a hundred miles per hour without brakes.