reason to be // h.s. au

one \\ graham

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He breathes out harshly, his eyes squinted as he passes the joint to me. I take a hit and hold it in, letting the smoke waft around my cheeks before I watch it float to the ceiling in the shape of little rings.

Mark laughs, says it's good to have me back, and asks if I'm staying the night.

"Nah," I say, shaking my head and smiling before passing it back to him. "I've got that thing. Someone is throwing me a welcome home party. Actually, I think your mom is the host." He inhales and nods, blowing out smoke before replying.

"It was mostly Brooklyn's idea. She'll find any reason to spend Dad's new wife's money."

"Your dad remarried?" I ask, picking my phone up to check the time.

"Yeah, some ex-model who landed a shit ton of money after they published her nude without her consent. She has a daughter about Brook's age, but I couldn't tell you her name even if I was sober. I stay away from that place as much as possible."

I don't bother to respond, and he holds up what's left of the blunt in offering. I wave my hand as a pass and stand up to leave the run down apartment he had moved into while I was away.

The car ride is slow as I scan the streets sleepily. My throat starts to dry just as I pull onto the street that holds my destination. There's a dog running around, sniffing at something on the ground. As I near closer, I realize it's not a something but a someone.

I must be buzzed out of my mind--though I can't remember weed ever making me hallucinate. I rub my eyes and when I open them, sure enough, the body is still there, lying in the middle of the street.

I get out of the car and the dog starts barking me. It's a large St. Bernard, and it stands protectively over what I now confirm as a girl. She doesn't move, but as I inch closer I can see the steady rise and fall of her chest. The dog growls relentlessly until finally, the girl brings her hand to its head and begins to scratch it behind the ears.

"Are you okay?" I question. No answer comes, but I can't keep the nervous chatter down, so I keep talking. "I almost hit you. Do you, uh, need a ride? Or...something?"

She doesn't say anything, just stands up with her back to me and leads her dog away from their previous spot. I walk slowly to my car and hesitate in front of the door, waiting for her to speak. She doesn't.

"Okay, well. I'm going to be on my way now."

Once again I'm treated with silence, so I slam the door behind me and drive to the end of the street, watching in my rear view mirror as she lays down again.

The driveway and street are littered with cars, alerting me that I'm too late to even make a fashionably late entrance. I open the door casually, trying not to draw attention by knocking, and as soon as I'm inside my elbow is being grabbed.

"Graham!" my smiling mother says as way of greeting. She drags me to a group of people immediately and begins talking about how much she missed me while I was gone, one hand grasping a drink while the other is grasping my elbow to steady herself.

I receive several smiles and questions about how college is going and if I regret moving across the country for it, but all I can think about is having something to drink and somewhere to sit.

"You'll have to excuse me," I finally tell the crowd, shuffling away from them and going on a hunt for the kitchen. It doesn't take long to find, and I'm unscrewing a bottle of liquor left out on the counter just as the back door swings open.