Elliot

I can’t fucking believe it. She has no idea who I am.

I put my palm out and signal with two fingers at Charlotte to enter the elevator with me. She’s slow to move. In all my life, I never would’ve suspected she’d become so insecure. I wonder if that’s why she’s a bit skinnier than I remember. But she’s still beautiful.

Fucking gorgeous.

I heard she was still single and jobless and I can’t help but think Nick might have had something to do with all that. He can get obsessive about wanting to control things, but he’s psychotic when it comes to being vengeful.

“C’mon,” I tell her as I lean out to toss the empty coffee cup in the trash. I slip my hand into my pocket to feel for the Bang...

One.

Just one pill.

One little slip under my tongue is all it’s going to take and I’ll know for sure once and for all how Charlotte Prescott feels about me.

She is the reason for all of this—her and her three friends. The fucking Cunt Squad: Charlotte, Ursula, Nancy, and Taloulah, whom we all call Loulah.

Those chicks drove us crazy with their fucking sleepovers and makeover parties—always hanging out in front of Charlotte’s open window, dancing nearly naked. And they knew exactly what they were doing—teasing us all the time—trading lingerie, lip gloss, secrets, and all that hot girly shit.

High school was already hard, but it was harder for us geeks because we got picked on a lot. And the Cunt Squad was no different. Looking back, Nick was right; all those girls were doing was taking advantage of us to feed their egos. Every time one of those beautiful girls danced in front of the window with her cotton hip huggers or thong, we would enjoy the show. But once the morning school bell rang, a new show would begin and me, Jax, and Don were at the center of it. Those girls, along with the rest of the student body, just watched us as their boyfriends pummeled us with their fists.

No one would lay a finger on Nick though. The rich kid showed up new in town during freshman year escorted by bodyguards, each two-times bigger than any of our high school’s starting linebackers.

But it wasn’t just that Nick had bodyguards; it was obvious he was a punk. A sneaky, smart, and admittedly good-looking punk. He had a way of getting what he wanted from people simply because he had the balls to seduce, exploit, swindle, bribe, and particularly charm the panties off an unsuspecting soul. After the first time he saw me get my ass kicked, he offered to be my friend. He offered protection in exchange for homework.

The first time Nick came over to collect an assignment was the first time he saw Charlotte and the rest of the Cunt Squad. They were singing karaoke in their underwear and he leaned up against my bedroom window to watch. I made it clear right away that Charlotte was mine and Nick laughed with sinister flare. Everyone knew Charlotte belonged to the quarterback at the time.

It was that night I learned Nick’s true nature. He stopped watching the girls and began to fumble about my room flipping through books and skimming through my closet as if he was taking inventory of my belongings, but I recognize now, he was really taking inventory of me.

He asked a bunch of random questions about what I thought of the president, my teachers, bullies at school, and especially about Charlotte next door. The first thing to come out of my mouth was Charlotte and I grew up together, but she and I somehow grew apart. Nick seemed amused, but more so by my fascination with other living things. He tapped on the glass of every creepy crawler I had tucked in a jar. I was into bugs back then, which I mentioned Charlotte couldn’t stand like most people who came over, although Charlotte had never been over. Surprisingly, Nick wasn’t the least bit turned off by the bugs.

“Lord of the Flies,” Nick mentioned as he picked up a jar of mealworms. “Have you read the story?”

I recall acknowledging I’d read the novel about a bunch of young boys who become savages after getting stranded on a deserted island. I had no choice but to read it. It was a requirement in English class.

“Do you know what that book is really about?” Nick asked.

At fourteen, I knew Nick was smart, though he was a different kind of smart. I suspected he was smarter than me despite my 4.3 grade point average and membership in most honor clubs, so I gave him a shrug as my answer. I figured it was a trick question.

He shook the jar of mealworms before he strut back over to the window where he smiled, watching and listening to the half-naked girls singing and dancing next door.

“Take a guess,” Nick demanded. “Tell me what you think that book is about.”

I had written a five-page essay on the story by William Golding, but I couldn’t for the life of me remember what any of the main themes were. “I don’t know,” I replied. “A couple of kids learning to survive in the wild.”

“No,” smirked Nick. “That book is about power.”

*****

Charlotte keeps her head down and her eyes on the floor as she enters the elevator with me.

I still can’t believe she doesn’t recognize me.

I shake the pill in my pocket. It makes a sound and it startles her. I smile when she turns to look. When I catch her eye, she blushes. Her lashes flutter and she smiles before looking away. The way I appear now compared to how she last saw me a dozen years ago as a skinny geek—I know I look different. Much different. It’s obvious I already have power over her.

As the elevator doors close, I pop open the little round pill box in my pocket.

I pause.

Do I really need to take this?

It’s possible I don’t.

It’s possible Charlotte might go out with me if I just asked her.

I think about the night we saved the girls from the house fire and the kiss Charlotte let me have afterward. She told me if there was any way she could repay me, she would try so I asked her for a kiss.

Her face went blank. She bit her lip and nodded. I was nervous as fuck, but I knew it was going to be my one and only chance to ever get something out of her, so I took that chance. It was horrible of me, really. She was still shaking from the whole event of nearly being burned alive, but the second my lips touched hers, it was me who was set on fire, which she quickly extinguished. Almost immediately, she put her hand on my chest and pushed me away—but not before I thought I felt her kiss me back.

We grew up together. We were friends until high school when she got beautiful and I...well, I was miserable and genuinely believed I’d be miserable forever—until our kiss.

The one kiss. It changed me. I became more motivated than ever to be smarter, to work harder, to become a man no woman could resist. And I’ve had a lot of women since that kiss, but I keep going back to the one.

It was like Charlotte was torn between herself in that moment our lips briefly touched. And for the past twelve years, no matter how many times I’ve run the scenario in my head, I’ve never come to a concrete conclusion. I believe she wanted to kiss me back, but I’ve never been sure.

And now’s my chance to find out.

Twelve years I’ve been working on this formula, on a pill that when taken under the tongue will cause women to reveal their true inner desires to you.

If Charlotte is even remotely interested in me, her interest should peak. The pheromones I will put off in mass quantities once I take the pill will either stimulate her nervous system and then her reproductive organs thus increasing her hormonal reaction to me or turn her off completely, if that’s how she really feels.

She will either love me more or hate me in excess. Whatever is at her core will present itself.

Just looking at her standing next to me unaware of who I am and what I’ve become—it’s fucking killing me.

It’s as bad as high school. It’s like she’s teasing me all over again. I look at her long legs in those beige high heels and I want to wrap them around me. I look at her ass tucked tight in her fitted navy skirt and I want to yank up that skirt and smack that ass until it’s beet red, punishing it for always bouncing around in her bedroom, but never bringing it over to let me bite it.

I look at the profile of her face. I want her to look at me. I want her to see me. But she’s still looking at the floor. It makes me ill. It makes me sick that Charlotte doesn’t keep her head up like she used to.

Despite the time and distance, I realize I haven’t grown up at all. I still feel the same way about Charlotte as I always have. If I could create a formula that would take all her worries away, I’d do it.

But this—what I have in my hand. The Bang. It’s all I got.

I lift my tongue and pop the pill.