low tides

Carmen didn’t know what to say. For once, words evaded the dark-haired girl. When Bryce tossed her the small baggie of white powder, she sighed. A part of her wanted to throw it back at him, call off everything, and ask him to take her home. Nothing had happened in the alley, but something much worse could have. Her life would’ve been over. The rational part of her knew that Bryce wasn’t really to blame. He couldn’t have anticipated that things would escalate, and it was her decision to come out with him in the first place. She very well could have refused, but she hadn’t. She could’ve demanded that he take her home at any point, but she’d stayed quiet. Picking up the bag, she turned it over in her hands, thinking of Jacob’s face - how broken down and dead inside he’d looked. She wondered if she’d ever let it get that far, and knew that if she were smart, she’d stop right now. She’d give Bryce back the bag and tell him that their “business” relationship was over. However, the idea of having to deal with everything going on in her life with out a reprieve was unthinkable, so Carmen pocketed the baggie, not even glancing over at Bryce as she did so.

He didn't want to explain. Bryce was an entirely private person, not to add to his hard exterior, but simply because he just didn't think anyone cared. Not even he cared for his own sob story. He didn't want to talk about how he had fallen into a deep hole so dark, he didn't see an escape. How was he supposed to tell Carmen that the luxurious lifestyle he came from was more daunting than giving? How was he supposed to explain that he saw his parents maybe a week and a half out of an entire month? How was he supposed to explain that that had gone on since he could remember? She wouldn't get it. She wouldn't get that the dealing had stemmed from a heated desire to gain the attention and affection of two parents who were too wrapped up in their careers. She wouldn't get the adrenaline rush that came from the possibility of getting caught. She wouldn't get that Bryce's charges for possession and his court date, two things no one knew about, were printed on his permanent record and drove his parents to actually sit him down and fucking talk to him for once.

No, Bryce didn't want to explain that it was more than the money. He would have much preferred the blowout. He wished now that Carmen was screaming her head off, throwing a tantrum as she did when things didn't pan out her way. He wished she was calling him a low life and begging to go home. He wanted insults and blame, not sentiment and heart-felt words. He shifted at the uncomfortable air between them now, as she finished her thoughts and left it to Bryce to continue the topic. But despite feeling low, Bryce was seemed to be in a bit of luck. As the destination came into sight, he simply reached over to the radio, switching the station to one that actually reached this side of Hartfordshire. 

When he was finally parked again, aside the familiar river bend, Bryce turned off the roaring engine but lingered in the warmth of the automobile. Words seemed hard to find for the boy who normally had a sarcastic remark sitting on the tip of his tongue at all moments. Instead, he found himself overthinking and hoping to find something that wouldn't turn Carmen off to the rest of the night, but nothing too friendly that would imply a soon to be heart-to-heart. He found himself saying, "I don't make promises." And with that, he was hopping out, slamming the door behind him as he meandered through the cold night.

All expectations were thrown out the window the second Bryce had told her he was picking her up without explaining his plans for them, but this was a whole other level. When she picked up her fix from Bryce, she would just swing by his house and sometimes they’d hang out. This was so unfathomably different, and she’d been aware that she was a special case, but a part of her wondered how Bryce could do this all the time. When he stopped walking altogether, Carmen examined his expression, her stomach dropping. She wanted to ask what was happening, what was wrong, but she didn’t dare. Shoving her hands into her pockets, Carmen stood behind Bryce, flinching slightly when he raised his voice.

Carmen could barely look at the man who subsequently stumbled out from behind the dumpster. She couldn’t help but wonder if that’s how she’d look if she kept going down the path she was headed. She wasn’t that bad, she figured. She never did that much, only buying every couple weeks, and waiting a decent amount of time between highs. And she wasn’t addicted. At all. Still, Carmen kept her eyes glued to the ground throughout the entire exchange, trying not to pay much attention to the words that were being spoken. She just had to act like she didn’t care, like everything was normal. If she stayed quiet, and kept her head down, this would be over soon enough. 

It was only when Carmen felt eyes on her that she looked up, shifting her weight as she realized that Jacob had turned his attention on her Her stomach turned as his eyes scanned her up and down, shifting slightly closer to Bryce, as if she could hide from this creep. When he addressed her, Carmen immediately shifted her gaze to her feet, breath coming quicker. 

Everything seemed to happen too quickly after that. Jacob was yelling, and Bryce was fighting back. She couldn’t help but glance behind her, wondering if anyone could hear what was going on, and what would result if they were caught. Carmen stumbled backwards as Bryce backed up into her, caught off guard. She’d seen Bryce mad before, but it was nothing like this. She had nothing to compare this to, no prior experience to draw from. She felt vulnerable, and helpless, and small, and it was not a good feeling.

Before Carmen could get a word out, though, he was lurching forward, speeding into the road and through the neighborhood towards more familiar ground. An apology was seated somewhere in the pit of Bryce's stomach, but it wouldn't dare rise past his throat. What was he to say? 'Sorry for endangering your life for my amusement.' Even the Andrews boy knew how terrible it seemed, but in all honesty, he had no idea his long-time client had gotten so bad. If he had, he wouldn't have brought Carmen. If he had, he wouldn't have even wasted his time driving down. The explanation was floating around in his head, but Bryce was too stubborn to actually show any bit of regret. As they came to a stoplight, the eighteen year old boy found his voice. Taking the unsold baggie out of his pocket, he tossed it into Carmen's lap. "There, on me."

Despite the fact that Bryce claimed to be cold-hearted and unable to care about anyone, Carmen refused to believe it was entirely true. Yeah, he was a miserable jerk on his best days, but there was absolutely no way that he would’ve put up with her for this long if he didn’t have the slightest bit of fondness for her. She didn’t know why she couldn’t just abandon him, especially when his insults got increasingly ruthless. Perhaps it was the fact that they had known each other for so long, but Carmen couldn’t help but believe there was more to him than he wanted her, or anyone, to know. So she stuck by him, because he put up  with her, and she could put up with him. It was fucked up, but it worked.

Carmen couldn’t find anything clever or biting to say at his next words. He was teasing her, like he usually did, but there was that undeniable lump in the pit of her stomach that made her feel the slightest bit uneasy. God, he was twisted. She could tell from the self-satisfied smirk on his face that he was enjoying this, and the only way to make that disappear was to prove him wrong. “Whatever,” she mumbled, trying to sound as blasé as possible. She had to act like she didn’t care, like she was unaffected. Sitting up a little straighter, Carmen continued flipping through stations, trying to find a song she liked.

"I’m on e of the most interesting people within miles of this place, don’t fucking lie to yourself," she argued, only glancing over at him when he smacked her hand away from the radio. She exhaled loudly, and crossed her arms over her chest, glancing out the window, and realizing that she didn’t really know where they were. Carmen didn’t ever have the need to venture to this side of town. Bryce knew what he was doing, however, and Carmen just needed to relax. She was fine. 

Shoving his hands into his pockets, green eyes scanned the dark, hoping to adjust and see the familiar, frenzied face Bryce was looking for. Yet nothing. Suddenly, the boy's fun demeanor fell. The grin that had lingered from time spent teasing Carmen dropped as he realized the absence of his client. His eyes narrowed -- this wasn't right. He hadn't driven all the way from the upper side of town to get stood up. He wasn't hanging around in the cold for nothing. As his hand gripped the baggie concealed in the denim jacket, Bryce couldn't help but let out a low growl of annoyance. Temper lost, he didn't fucking care if unfamiliar faces came around the corner to see who was yelling. "Jacob, you piece of shit!"

But as the words finished ringing in the air, a scrawny fellow peered out from behind the large dumpster, further within the stereotypical alley. Paling, peeling and paranoid, Jacob's dead blue eyes glanced to Bryce with a timid expression on his face. He seemed to understand where Bryce's anger had stemmed from and in a second, he was easing towards the curly haired boy and his companion, nervously laughing as he came closer. "Hey, I'm right here, dude. I-I just -- I'm tripping. It's bad, man. Real bad. I need my fix. And you were late. And I couldn't -- I just couldn't -- You got it though, right, man?"

It must have been a mix between the nerves and the withdrawal. Users knew better than to piss off their dealers; after all, Bryce held the remaining bit of Jacob's sanity in the palm of his hand and could take it away in a second. But Jacob had been using for over a year now. As a matter of fact, he had been Bryce's most loyal and frequent customer. Bryce found himself in this very spot numerous times a week due to Jacob's intense addiction to the stimulant. Until Jacob lost it, lost everything. His girlfriend, his home, his job. He was now living in a tiny flat with six other addicts, just barely making rent and just barely scrapping enough for two grams every week and a half. It had been a while though -- Bryce hadn't realized how long until Jacob's fidgeting, wide eyes and chapped lips indicated that it'd been too long. If he had known, he probably wouldn't have invited Carmen to come along. But he kept a careless look on his face as Jacob finally stopped in front of them, eager as hell.

"Of course I fucking have it. Do you have the right fucking amount this time, though?" That's the way it was. Tough tone, tough attitude. Bryce was nearly towering over Jacob with a grim expression, one that implied there was nothing close to a friendship between the two. After all, this wasn't something like marijuana. There was no chance of Bryce smoking out the twenty-something year old before them. The drug Bryce held in his hand was worth quite a bit, deemed most valuable by the guy on top, the guy Bryce had to respond to. Anything Jacob did could negatively affect Bryce -- he had learned this the hard way. So he waited.

Jacob's eyes moved from the taller boy to the girl behind him then, letting Bryce's question linger between them. He grinned, showing yellowing teeth beyond repair. Looking back to the dealer, he pointed towards her. "Hey, she's pretty. Is she -- that your girl?" His eyes darted back to Carmen. "I bet he gives you all the good deals, huh?"

"Jacob--" Bryce began, but was immediately cut off by Jacob's instant rampage.

"You upcharge the living fuck out of me, so you can even out the money, huh, you dick? You give her all the deals and then need to get the extra cash from me! You fucking asshole!" The addict was now completely in Bryce's face, bumping into him to the point where the dealer couldn't help but stumble backwards ever so slightly, but just enough to fall into Carmen. And that was where Bryce drew the line.

One shove and Jacob was on the floor, with Bryce leaning over him threateningly. "Prices have just been raised, fucker. Looks like double the amount for you now. Have something to say about that?"

Jacob was shaking his head now, realizing his mistake, but the damage had been done. If Bryce caved in now without double the cash, cash that Jacob clearly didn't have, lines would be crossed. Jacob would try something like this again, if not something more dangerous. What was done was done. Bryce sneered, but took a step back. "You're cut off. I don't take well to people wasting my time. Find another dealer who's willing to put up with your cowardly shit, you prat. Don't fucking bother me again."

She decided to pick her battles, and got in the car when he told her to (not without a dramatic eye roll and a huff, however). Half because the longer they loitered outside, the more likely it became that someone would see, and half because it really was freezing, and Carmen wasn’t a fan of the cold. She slid into the passenger seat, letting her bag slide off her shoulder and into her lap. Bryce was pulling out of the driveway before she actually thought about what he’d said, and she froze just as her seat belt clicked into place.

But maybe it was Carmen's undying hope for Bryce that secured the soft spot he had for her. After all, she was everything he hated. Carmen was the distinct reminder of everything Bryce came from -- a household too focused on material items to give a shit about the growing boy within it. She bled material items. She bragged about her wealth. She enjoyed the lifestyle Bryce so ferociously fought against. And yet he found himself spending most his time with her. Carmen might have been everything Bryce hated, but she was also the only person who could stand him. Even his so-called best friend Jude would shrug him off when Bryce got too malicious. If there was even an inkling of humanity and care left in Bryce, it was the dark haired girl in his passenger seat that brought it out; it was her blind faith in him that kept him somewhat decent, if that.

That's why he had to smirk when she fiddled with the radio instead of lurching for the door and screaming at him to stop their night, despite the events he had stored. Carmen was obnoxious as all, but if he was being honest, he enjoyed bits and pieces of her. "No, I didn't plan to take you on a drug deal. I had a drug deal planned and then we made over-lapping plans and now here we are. Contrary to your belief, the world doesn't revolve around you, love. But hey, this is good. Now we'll get to see that tough girl act in action, right?" With a grin wide as could be, Bryce glanced from the road to Carmen, widening his eyes and raising his eyebrows. He knew the anxiety she must have felt, judging by her angry and on-edge tone upon finding out about their plans. But there was amusement in it somewhere for someone like the Andrews boy.

"Just the phrase 'spontaneous enough' lacks the excitement of spontaneity. It has no goddamn limitations, Carmen. Really, how do you not bore yourself to death?" Lightly whacking her hand away from the radio now, he tuned through until he found a station playing The Flaming Lips and zoomed by a stop sign as he tapped along to the beat on his steering wheel. They were creeping closer and closer to the final destination, the homes beginning to get a little drab, broken down and obviously owned by the less fortunate. In the dark of the night, closed shops and homes hosted even darker alleyways that Bryce peered into after finally entering a certain street.