Clementine had become a wild child. Born in America but raised abroad, she now had little regard for the expectations of high society. But her reckless ways eventually catch up with her when she is kicked out of college in New York City and forced t...
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They all got out of the ocean and were all too giddy on the excitement of what they all just did that they didn't notice that they stood out distinctly when they walked back into the party.
"I'll be right back," he leaned in and whispered into her ear, then disappeared like an apparition.
Everyone dissipated back into the crowd, and after a few moments wondering around, Clementine turned around and nearly ran into her mother unexpectedly.
It was unexpected for both of them because her mom looked her up and down and asked her: "Why are you...wet?"
How do I explain this? Clementine was now sobering up but not quickly enough.
"I...went for a swim," But as soon as she said that, she surprised her own self.
Her mom crossed her arms, "oh, really? In your dress?"
"Yes! We all did," Clementine looked around the room, but couldn't find anyone else that was wet or who she went for a swim with.
"And you thought that was a wise idea because..." Her mother was a asking a rhetorical question but Clementine didn't have the strength for this.
"Oh, come on, mom, we were just having a little fun!"
And at that moment, somebody came up behind Clementine, grabbing her by the waist. Wrapping his arms around her, it was somebody wet. Clementine flew into a panic because once she smelled the marijuana, she knew it could only be one person. Zico.
"I'm back," he whispered in her ear, and came around beside her just in time to see who she was talking to.
Of course, he didn't know what Clementine's mother looked like. And considering how much younger her mother looked then her age, and how well put together she was, Zico probably didn't realize that this was her mother.
What did he expect? Coming here. Clementine did not know how to proceed so she just stood there frozen.
She was half angry at him for smoking now but since this was a party she was also half lustful. Not loving the smell of marijuana by herself half as much as she loved it on him.
She didn't like smoking - didn't support it - but she loved tasting it on his lips and only on his lips. Everyone else was disgusting. Marijuana she was not smoking a lot, sometimes feeling half allergic to it, but it seemed that anything intertwined with him was perfect. She was't sure if it was some sort of pheromonal effect but she couldn't help it.
Now though, she couldn't't relish in any of it, because she was still not sure how to react.
So Zico, being the man that he was, put his arm around Clementine's waist and extended his hand towards her mother.
"I'm Zico," he held it out, but she didn't respond.
"So I heard," her mother responded without missing a beat, still crossing her arms.
It was then that Zico must have realized who he was talking to, he must have seen the resemblance. But it was already too late. Her father came up behind her mother and there it was, the inevitable confrontation that was to happen sooner or later.
Except this time, it would have real consequences.
