White Lies and White Lines

by The Tones

   I hate her, I thought to myself as I twirled the shortened straw in between my fingers and lowered my head towards her. But it wasn't just any part of her. It was her pale butt actually. And on the pale butt of this pale temptress were two pale lines. White girl on white girl, I thought and it made me laugh a bit.

  "What's so funny?" she asked, looking over her shoulder at me with that twisted smile of hers that infuriated and aroused me at the same time.

   "Nothing," I responded. That was always my response. Nothing was ever wrong.

   She glared at me, not believing my words for a second and who could blame her. Nobody was alright all the time. One day she would catch me in my lies but not today. She simply shook her head and looked forward at the wall, waiting on my line. I lowered my head further then and got one last glimpse of her gorgeous pale buttocks as I took in the white gold through the black straw. It burned; always did. And I could never tell whether it was the drugs, the illegality of it all burning into the back of my brain, or the mixed feelings lodged in my chest.

  I raised up then, looking at her in those stupidly beautiful eyes and flashed a false smile of my own. Those she couldn't see through. No one could. Not even my roommate as he flashed one of his own from my left. Damn, he was still here. I thought that if I tried hard enough, I could ascend to godhood randomly and make him disappear. No such luck apparently, as he twirled his own straw around. His was yellow; bright like his personality. Maybe if I used a different straw I could be like that. He lowered his head and took the white gold through the yellow straw. She smiled back at him. She always did. I could see the love in her eyes when she looked at him and try as I might, I couldn't stop the jealousy from sparking. It wasn't specifically her I wanted, but something like her. Something so crazy that it would stay up to obscene hours and do drugs with me. Something so passionate that it would want me anywhere and anytime. Something that didn't fuck both my roommate and I while making it clear that I was merely the backup pony for when the stallion was too tired to go for a ride.

   There was the rage again. It always came. The drugs brought it on. I wanted so badly to end it right there; to scream and yell at them to stop it. Stop smiling at one another. Stop shoving it in my face how much you two love each other. Stop making it obvious that I'm just here as an extra toy for you. This was it. I was going to put a stop to this now. I wasn't taking their shit anymore. I'm going to-

   "Want another line?" my roommate asked, his face barely visible from the darkness of his skin and the light behind him.

    Instantly, the rage vanished and I looked down at the black straw in my black hand and then at her. She had an eyebrow raised but it wasn't necessary. She knew what my answer would be. It was the same every time I wanted to say no.

   "Sure," I said, watching as he sprinkled more white girl on our white girl.

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