23
Court
“Come to the restroom with me,” Poppy said. Her arms dangled around my neck. Her eyes were wide, pupils blasted out until they were nearly indistinguishable from her dark irises.
“It’s barely been an hour,” I told her.
She tightened her lips, that euphoria heading straight into irritability. She was coming down from her high. “I just need a little more.”
“Poppy…”
“If you won’t go with me, then I’ll go alone,” she snapped.
“How much have you had today?”
Jesus, I was policing her. But it’d been a while since I was around someone whose drug use worried me. No wonder she’d been in and out of rehab so much.
“Who the f**k cares?” She ripped herself away from me. “I’ll be back.”
I ground my teeth in frustration. What a nightmare. Why had I listened to Camden? So much for choosi
