Free Complementary Colors by Adrienne Wilder Page A

to the dining room table.
    “I’m fine.”
    “If your head hurts, you need to take something for it.”
    “It doesn’t hurt.”
    “Then why are you rubbing your temple?” Julia dug around in her handbag and came back with a fat white pill. “Here.”
    “What is it?”
    “Does it matter?”
    “Yes.”
    “Take the pill, Paris.”
    “Fine.” I turned to go up the stairs.
    “Now.”
    “I need water.”
    “Then go to the kitchen.”
    “My room is closer.”
    “You have no trouble fitting far bigger things down your throat, so swallow it dry.”
    “Sucking cock is a lot different than trying to swallow pill the size of an egg. If you’d ever done it, you’d know that.”
    Another slap.
    “Covering up a busted lip is going to be a lot harder than hickies.” I pressed my tongue to my lip.
    “Take the pill, or a busted lip will be the least of your worries.”
    I put it in my mouth.
    “Swallow.”
    The chalky rock scraped my throat. I worked my mouth for every drop of saliva I could get.
    “Swallow it.”
    “I’m trying.” It got stuck on the way down.
    Julia held my face and squeezed my cheeks. “Open.” I even remembered to lift my tongue. When she was satisfied, she let me go. “Go bathe. You’re stinking up the place.”
    Cut free, I climbed up the steps.
    “Paris.”
    I stopped at the top. What the hell could she want now? “Yes?”
    “I only do this because I care about you.”
    I always wondered if she actually believed her lies or if she thought I did. “I’ll be in my room.”
    By the time I’d washed, the pill lodged somewhere in my chest had begun to burn a bitter chemical taste back up to my tongue. I drank two glasses of water, but the lingering pain made it impossible for me to tell whether or not it had gone down. Then the room tipped.
    The mystery pills Julia pushed on me could either give me the best highs or the worst hangovers.
    I staggered over uneven ground and into my bedroom. A blinding mass struck me from above, but the light switch had moved so I had no way to turn it off.
    The walls fell, kicking up waves, and my bed rocked in the center of my room. I grabbed the comforter but was swept away by the undertow before I could climb on.
    My shoulder knocked against the frame, and somehow I wound up on the ceiling with all the furniture dancing around me. I reached for the bed, but it drifted off the edge of the world.
    Then the ants ate all my strength, and all I could do was float.

Chapter Four
    Sunlight cast broken pieces of red and gold across the ripples. Fat orange fish made circles, and we watched them for a while before he spoke. I didn’t know where he’d come from, but I don’t think I cared.
    Summer was always so lonely for me.
    The boy put his hand on my chest. “¿Cómo te llamas? ”
    I looked down because I thought I had something on my shirt. “I don’t understand.”
    His entire face lit up when he laughed. “No. Name. You name.”
    “Paris. My name is Paris.” I put my hand on his chest.
    “Me llamo…”
     
    “Your dinner is getting cold,” Julia said.
    The salmon and asparagus on my plate had been arranged with bits of lemon and decorated with lacy sauce. Too bad making a pretty food sculpture didn’t make it taste like a cheap can of alphabet soup.
    I poked the fish with my fork.
    The murmur of conversation flowing through the restaurant was chorused by the occasional clink of silverware on porcelain. The contrast spit out shards of lime greens over reds and purples.
    With every new chip, the pain behind my eyes swelled. It might have been tolerable if the people at our table would have stopped talking to me.
    “So tell me, Paris, what are you working on right now?” I think his name was Crayson. “It’s going to be difficult for you to top the Trinity you unveiled at that last showing. It was definitely your best so far.”
    My best. A corpse was my best. A corpse being torn apart by ravaging dogs while onlookers did