The Clique

The Clique

Quewen is determined to be different. After all in a time when female heroins are plentiful a girl has to do something to stand out. She does not bring down tyrannical governments or go into battle she simple follows a dream that has plagued her since she was a little girl, but when her kryptonite makes it's self known she must decide the path she's forged for herself is worth not giving into her temptations. (Cover Art by Tamara de Lempicka)

published on January 31, 20165 reads 5 readers 0 not completed


        I've never purposefully done drugs before...

        I say purposefully in remembrance of a time when I was seventeen. I was a late bloomer as you can imagine from the fact that I wore my father's old Star War's t-shirt at least once a week. That day I hadn't worn it though. That day I had worn my sister's grey frock. It was a turtle neck and the bottom hem fell just above my knee. It wasn't the sexiest thing imaginable, but to an insecure seventeen year old sneaking out of the house for the first time to meet a boy it was the perfect compromise.
        His name was Devon. We had met in school during camera club. His hair was long and questionable at best. His car was old and had mismatched doors that look like they were lazily replaced after an accident. His cloths were always baggy and until I started to wise up I always questioned why they had a faintly earthy smell similar to that of a skunk. He was a typical burn out, the kind that's only care is if they will be able to score weed for the coming weekend. He wasn't a prize, but to a girl who was looking for a high school thrill he was the jackpot.
        That night he took me to a reservoir up in the mountains, not to far, but just far enough that there would be no one around at this time of night. His idea of a date, or whatever it was in his head, was to sit an smoke pot quietly in his car. Naturally I declined his offer for a drag on his joint, but he wasn't about to let me role down the windows for some fresh air. "we gotta get a nice bake goin" I remember him saying. I was uncomfortable, but soon my senses started to become numb. The hazy, earthy smell of the pot wasn't making me as nauseous anymore. Instead a heavy weight started to weigh my body down and soon I was more preoccupied with a lose string on my sister's frock then anything else... I was so high that when he started kissing me sloppily it took a moment for me to realize what was going on. I was numb to everything even his hands groping at my thighs. It was a first kiss that was unpleasant, but even then the heavy weight of the pot's influence on me clouded It from my mind.  

        So you see I have never done any drugs on purpose and the time that I was intoxicated was so anti-climatic that I can barely remember it and yet now, in this moment two years later, its all that I can think about...

        A feeling of ecstasy flows through my body making my head flood with an electric current foreign to my senses. The source of this feeling? The strong, stern lips pressed against mine. The large hands on my hips pulling me closer to him. The slightly salty and sweaty taste of his skin. A man that I only have known professionally, someone I felt intimated by is making me feel as if to break this connection would steal some new found revelation that I have not been allowed to know until now. I know I should not be allowing this man to kiss me or letting his hands slip slightly under my shirt or savoring every time his lips make contact with a new part of my body, but this other worldly feeling makes it impossible for me to stop.
        Right now, as I let this feeling envelope me all I can think of nothing more then burn out Devon and pity him. His drug was lazy, boring, underwhelming. This feeling... this feeling is a real drug. It intoxicates, takes control, it is purely addictive.
        With each kiss I pull him closer and closer to me not even able to think about how he is older or he is almost my boss, or how the closer we get the further away my professional goal slips. I'll i can think about is the second this connection has to stop and how impossible it will feel to stop it.
        His hold is firm and the power behind his kiss steadily moves from gentle to fervent. I lace my fingers through his dark brown hair at the back of his head pulling him even closer. Suddenly his hands start to move from my hips to by butt and then to my upper thighs. He lifts me up and places me on the table behind us. I wrap my legs around his waist. Any other moment I would have felt embarrassed to be touching him so intimately without hesitation, but right now i am not even controlling my own actions. Someone experienced and sexy has taken over my body and I am just along for the ride.
        Suddenly I feel his body tense against mine. His lips leave mine and his strong body no longer envelopes me. I am still too shocked and caught off guard to even look him in the eye. We both breath heavy in silence, neither one of us says a word for a moment. I still don't raise my head to look at him, but out of the corner of my eye I can see him stepping away slightly pacing. If i look up I'd bet I would seem him running his hand along the back of his neck like he does when he is tense.
        "I'm... sorry?" He says slowly with a kind of uneasy chuckle to his voice, "I shouldn't have done that... that was a mistake." he says while he continues his subtle pacing. I remain speechless staring transfixed at the crappy carpeting on the floor of his trailer.  
        "yea...." I slowly regain the ability to speak, " I... I should go." I hurriedly cross the small trailer to his door yanking it open and step out into the cool night air. I hear his foot steps behind me and he calls out after me quiet enough to make sure not to wake anyone else.
        "I am sorry, Quewen." He says sounding truly sincere. I ignore him and keep going at a hurried pace back to my own trailer. I shut the door behind me and then sink to the floor still in disbelief. Even the memory of that feeling makes me feel lightheaded... Slowly a horrible nauseous feeling fills my stomach as the weight of the situation dawns on me... I have just killed my career...
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