3
Despite the buzz of several shots of whiskey and the euphoria of Molly, Ricky felt sure there was something wrong with the girl looking at him from the bar. But then again what could go wrong this night?
The club was lit up and smelled of s*x and perfume. The DJ was tight, keeping the thump just right. Ricky could feel it. It thrummed through his body like waves of ecstasy. Made him move even though he didn't dance. It was dark in the club, and lights strobed across faces like pictures, moments caught in time, but changing every second.
Oh yeah, he was high as f**k.
Things blurred and he was at a table with his friends. The music was loud, his friend’s words came at him in bursts rising above the layered house music. Drinks were poured; he couldn't afford it—what sixteen-year-
