When I was a child the world moved slowly. I can remember the long, hot summer days dragging on into the bitter winters. The slow years shaped me. I lived in a suburban town right on the outskirts of Philadelphia, by the name of Ridley. Ridley was surrounded by Norwood, where my father lived, Prospect Park, Glenolden, and so on and so forth. These little towns all made up one big County which despite having so many faults, people still worshipped. Delaware County, named after the first state despite being in Pennsylvania, is a place of many perplexities. The year I started to realize that was my senior year of high school, back in 2017.
It was a hot September in Ridley Park. My friends and I were baking in the heat of my '99 Chevrolet Silverado as we made our way down the highway towards Philadelphia. Lela passed me the lit Dutch and I took a long hit from it, feeling my lungs fill with the harshness of marijuana.
"There's a state trooper sitting up there Kaya, ya better slow down" Regan said as I passed her the burning Dutch. I immediately took my foot off the gas pedal and let it inch down a few notches on the speedometer before I passed the cop doing only 60. It was 2017 and weed was still highly illegal in PA, especially while I was driving. I turned my head around and the police officer had not moved from the spot he was sitting at. I breathed a sigh of relief.
"We need to find a new place to smoke. These L rides are getting risky" I said to Lela and Regan. They both nodded in agreement. I looked over at Lela as I passed her the dutch Regan just handed me. She was a pretty girl, her hair was long, dark brown and her eyes were electric blue. She had a grace about her that attracted almost every male eye she came into contact with. Regan, on the other hand, was not more than an average looking female. She had long brown hair and brown eyes. Her teeth were large and almost horse-like, but she was funny and that was enough for me. These trips to Philadelphia were a daily event, we would get done school, buy some weed, and smoke until we had to go back home that night. By the time I would reach my house I would usually be in such a stupid haze that I would just fall asleep. My Mom hated it. She had no qualms in telling me about it every time I walked in my front door.
"Again Kaya?" She said as I walked into my house that night. I looked at her through my bloodshot, glassy eyes.
"It's just weed mom" My go to response to any confrontation about it ran smoothly out of my lips. She scoffed and rolled her eyes, before turning around and walking upstairs. She did not fight with me about it anymore, for she knew I was not going to stop. I made my way to my kitchen, where I cooked anything in sight. That day it was grilled cheese and 2 bags of flamin' hot Cheetos. When the kitchen actually had food in it, which was a rare sight to see, I would whip up a five course meal. People really do not joke when they say getting high makes you hungry. I laid in bed and slowly ate my food, while ignoring the pile of school work that I had put off yet again. Sometimes I wondered if the weed was making me lose my motivation, or really my brains. I had been a straight A student for my first three years of high school. I was finding it hard to maintain a C in school now, and I only had three classes a day. I picked up my Anatomy folder, opened it, and then put it right back down.
"I'll just do it tomorrow" I muttered, before clicking off my bedroom light and rolling over into bed.
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Trial and Tribulations
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