Life Through a Lense

Chapter Fifteen

"Why didn't you answer my calls?" I demanded.

We found a pizza place that was still open. After the events of tonight, I figured that I should get some food into Ivy. I didn't remember her eating anything before she left. Now the relief was being melted by fury.

"I'm the one who called the ambulance, I'm the one that rode in the ambulance. I was a little distracted by the fact that one of my best friends overdosed," she explained.

"Overdosed on what exactly?"

"Ecstasy," she answered. "But I'm pretty sure it was laced with something."

I took a sharp breath. "Ecstasy?! You didn't take any did you?"

"No, of course not, I'm not stupid," she denied.

Relief cooled me down again. You would never guess it from looking at Charlotte. Her dad was a pastor and her mom was a pre school teacher. She wore pig tails up until she was fourteen. Her eyes were too big for her face which gave her the impression of innocence. Apparently she's not as innocent as I thought. Or maybe this was just a version of Catholic school girls going insane once they get a whiff of freedom.

"How did she get a hold of it?" Tristan asked.

I raised an eyebrow. Kids were selling weed at my middle school dances. A Halsey concert? I couldn't even imagine how many dealers there were in the crowd. I'm sure at least a quarter of the people there were on some sort of drug (alcohol included). Ecstasy was probably as easy to get as Tylenol.

"She got it from a kid at school," Ivy said. "She just pulled it out of her purse and offered me one. When I didn't take it she took another one. Then she started getting really hot and slurring her words. Then she just passed out. You guys got there like five minutes after I did."

I bet Charlotte's dad was going to have a hell of a time with this one. Though I had to admit that I was proud of Ivy for not taking ecstasy (not that it's exactly a high bar to set). Pot is one thing, ecstasy is a whole other ballpark. People die from that shit. And alcohol. Honestly, if she was going to be doing any drugs, my choice would be pot (not that I thought she should be).

I realized that I was overreacting, but it was hard not to. That twenty minutes between the time I got the weird anonymous phone call to when I saw her in the emergency waiting room was the worst 20 minutes of my life after mom's death.

"Wait...how did you guys find me anyway?" She asked.

"Well...I got a weird call and you weren't picking up your phone so I called Tristan," I explained, skipping over the part where I had her phone traced.

Something flashed across her eyes when I said Tristan's name, like she was remembering Chris. Then she shot daggers at me. She knew. She knew that I had...feelings for Tristan even though I was dating Chris. She knew that I was a terrible person leading two different guys on (although technically I had never cheated on Chris). Great, my younger sister was now the moral police.