Chapter 1: Crushed

This chapter established Yvonne's particular vivid way of seeing the world and her struggles with bulimia as well as hinting at her relationships with "Penn" and Ripley

Chew, swallow, purge.

Repeat.

I felt it crush against my teeth.
I was a beach.
Soda ocean, and cookie sand.
Crispy chocolate wafers powdered and lumped into wet mouthfuls of black.

I went for another bite. I heard my phone.

Penn.

I let it go, almost through to voicemail.
Let him think I'm busy.

Last ring, I answered.
"Oh. You" I said coyly. Crumbs falling from my lips.

"Oh. You" Penn mimicked. I could hear him smiling. That crooked lip that turned me jelly. Swirled my insides like a down-hill drop.
"So listen," he said, I'm outside your house. You wanna hang for a bit"

"Well" I said, chasing the bits from my face.
"I was going to do some stuff, but yeah, ok. Gimme a couple minutes"

I rushed to the bathroom.
Don't wake up I thought looking at Sasha's adjoining bedroom door.
My fingers found the familiar spot at the back of my mouth.
A scorch of liquid. A foamy pulse of vomit, dark with chocolate splashed into the toilet.
I licked my cracked lips. A blood-slit. Dry skin around a salt-rift. Acid stinging raw meat.
I ran the tap and washed the taste away.
A warm tickle on the back of my tongue all that was left.

At the freezer, blackberry and alcohol hit my teeth.
A vodka blast, aching with the cold.
I swallowed. And again.
A clear drip, half spit, slithered in a fat stream towards my neck.
I wiped it with my thumb and licked.
One more drink.

I brushed my teeth and put on a pale denim skirt, short and frayed. A high rip showing almost up to my hip. Sheer white top that stretched across my my body like icing.

I could see Penn's car through the lobby glass, his windows down, elbow out.
A cool shimmer of anticipation swimming up my body.

I lit a Blue Ticket, my cigarette of choice and walked to the passenger door.

"Hey sailor" I said with a dumb smile.
Penn looked at me, a raised eyebrow lifting behind lazy sandstone curls. A backwards hat.

I felt like an idiot.

Penn made me graceless.

He flicked his stump-cigarette out the window and looked at me again. The lit tip hit the curb, a miniature supernova of sparks.
"You gonna get in?"

A total idiot, I thought as I slinked into the seat.

Penn picked the lit stick from between my lips, sucked in a long smoky drag before driving around the back side of the building.

A few breathless, sticky minutes later he dropped me off back at the front, told me he'd call and drove away.

My reflection in the warped metal elevator walls. Corpse-blonde hair a mess, shadowy roots and dry tangled tips. Wet bite marks on my neck turning pink.

I could still smell him. Smoke and salt, a cool gray ocean.

I snuck back into the apartment.

"S**t"
Sasha was in red panties and a t-shirt. She eyed me from the deck, mock disappointment.

"I was uh, just getting something from my car" I smirked.

"I'll bet.
She threw her pack of Blue Tickets at me.

"At least someone around here is getting laid" I said, lighting up.

Sasha and I smoked in silence for a while. Watching the gray swirls disappear into the sky. Dusty tangerine from the city lights.

"I'm sleeping in your bed tonight" I told her.

"What-evs" she ground out her cigarette on the deck railing. I watched the paper crinkle, unsmoked tobacco bits, maple-brown and ash
"But brush your teeth first" she said, "you smell like low standards"

Author's Note

Please feel free to be honest with me. I know it is just your opinion so I won't take it personally if you don't like it, though constructive criticism is most appreciated.