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I open my eyes, still feeling the effects of the brownies from yesterday, plus I feel nauseous and I have the worst headache.
I sit up noticing my empty bedroom, which means Shannon must have left already.
I go to get up but pause when I see a dark black hoodie folded up on the edge of my bed.
Patrick's hoodie.
I smile at the fact that he actually left his hoodie here. I get up off my bed and put the hoodie away in my wardrobe before grabbing my school uniform, since It's Thursday and I still have to go to school.
But even though I'm not doing anything for it, It's still my sixteenth birthday on Saturday, which is exciting, I guess.
I get changed, and then open my bedroom door seeing that Joey is walking up the stairs, also wearing his school uniform, in his hands he's holding a glass of water and Advil.
He looks up when he hears the door close, usually he would smile at me but instead he stares at me with a blank expression, which I guess is what I expected.
"We have to talk."
"Yeah, I know." I mutter, turning back around and walking into my bedroom, Joey follows me and shuts the door behind him.
"So I think we should start as to why you were even hanging out with a boy in the first place. Lizzie told me his name was Nicholas?"
"I don't know, we're friends kinda, I haven't known him long," I shrug, sitting on my bed, and Joey places the water and Advil on my bedside table before sitting beside me.
"He Isn't your friend, Delilah. Did he tell you that there was weed in those brownies?"
I think about it for a few moments before shaking my head, "No, He didn't."
"And did he try to get you to do anything?"
"No, We were watching a movie, I fell asleep and then when I woke up I realised what time it was so we left."
Joey runs a hand through his hair, blowing out a frustrated breath. "You fell asleep?"
"Nothing happened, Joe, I promise, It was fine."
"No it isn't fine, Delilah, you got high."
"So? I felt.. I don't know how to explain it." I shrug, and Joey nods understandingly.
"I know, trust me. I know, you take the first hit or snort something and you feel good. So good that when It's offered to you the next time, you want to feel that high again, so you take it-and before you know it, you're addicted and nothing or nobody can make you stop. Do you understand me?"
I knew Joey was talking about his own experience, and how drugs make him feel, but even though yesterday all my problems went away, and nothing really mattered, I don't want to disappoint Joey, especially because all he's done for me, and my siblings.
