Pack Secrets || WLW

Make Me Forget

They asked me to sit down before they told me my friend had gone missing. As if sitting down could help anything at all. As if sitting down could bring her back. As if it could silence the screaming in my head.

The deep voice jostles me back to reality. "There was a similar case about a week ago. We found the girl eventually but she..." The man on the phone clears his throat. "Well, the body was particularly mangled."

Is that supposed to make me feel better?

It's like he hears my unspoken question because he takes the conversation a different direction. "Just..." He lets out a frustrated sigh. "Don't get your hopes up is all I'm saying. We haven't had much luck with this kind of thing as of late. Glassboro is... Well, it's changing. It isn't safe like it used to be."

It was never safe for some of us but I don't bring that up.

"Okay." It's one of the only things I've said to the sheriff since I answered the call.

"So, just... If you hear anything, give me a call," he continues.

"Okay."

He pauses longer than usual. I wonder what he's debating saying. He must decide against it because instead he says, "Alright. Have a good one."

I roll my eyes. Have a good one? You just told me my friend is missing. I hang up without saying goodbye and open my texts. Angela hasn't responded in a few days but I hadn't thought anything of it. We've both been busy with finals and she picked up that remote internship recently. I click on her contact photo. It zooms out from a photo of just her to one of both of us. We've both got black hair but mine is wavy and hers is curly. I've got pale white skin and she has smooth brown skin. She's dressed up in the photo but I can't remember when or why we took it. Or maybe she wasn't dressed up. Angela has a habit of always looking nice. She's been like that since high school.

Sadness swells in my chest. No. I exit out of the photo. I won't mourn her before she's gone. She's going to come back. She's just... Taking a little road trip or something. Maybe she got tired of life's stressors and needed to take off.

I click into a different message.

You busy? I send. I don't remember this one's name. I have her under FB1. Short for Fuck Buddy One. The typing bubble pops up, disappears.

On my way

I'm staring at the clock when she knocks on my apartment door.

"Six minutes," I tell her as I open the door. "Are you getting bored?"

The woman smiles wide. "Fuck no." She pulls me into her arms and kisses me hard. "I brought the stuff. What do you want?"

"Just make me forget everything for a while," I mumble between kisses.

Her lips pull into a smile under mine. She lifts me so I wrap my legs around her waist and closes the door with her foot to carry me to the bed we've shared a handful of times. I like this one. She knows I hate chit chat. No need to talk about the weather. We both know what she's here for.

"Give me a sec," she says and unzips the Jansport backpack.

I watch the shadows shift on the ceiling as clouds drift by, think about the biology final I just took, think about anything besides that phone call. Besides Angela. How scared she must be. If she's still—

FB1 crawls between my legs and pulls the blanket over her back so I can't see the strap but I know she's wearing it. It's her favorite way to fuck me. Hardly does it any other way even though I wish she'd eat me out before. She's quick to pull at my jeans and I help by pulling my shirt over my head.