I get home 10 minutes later, and I have about 20 minutes until Aspen gets here.
Honestly, 20 minutes alone is borderline dangerous at this point. I feel like, if I was a normal kid, I'd take the opportunity to jack off, or scroll through instagram, or at least make myself some food.
Nope. Instead, I lay on my bed and stare out the window, right at the Golden Gate Bridge. It kind of feels like an insult now. Like, "hey, I'm here to remind you of your failure. You'll continue seeing me right before you go to sleep and right after you wake up until you can get your life together."
I try to see the beauty in it that I once did... but it's just really difficult.
Funny, I think the same thing looking in a mirror nowadays.
Looking at myself, I come to the startling realization that I haven't changed my clothes since Xavier. I need to get him— and all of the emotions these clothes carry— off of me. I end up choosing this:
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Seems... druggie enough. I like big sweaters too, because sometimes the fabric puffs out and it makes me feel like I'm not so flat chested.
I stare at myself for a while, trying so hard to admire my appearance. Thankfully, Aspen knocks at the door before I can come to the realization that it's not going to happen.
"Hey lovely!" She says, immediately taking her shoes off and collapsing onto the couch, pointing her toes towards the ceiling.
"This is a nice ass apartment. Your parents get it for you?" She turns her head towards me and asks.
I chuckle nervously. "Uh, yeah, I guess. Any price tag to get me out of their house."
"Ah, did you break the 21-year-rule?"
"No, I'm only seventeen."
"Oh." She frowns for a moment. "Oh, I see. But, at least you like it here, right?"
"I suppose. It's a big space for one person."
She dramatically nods and gets up off the couch.
"So, miss druggie wannabe... where's the kush?"
I look at her strangely.
"Where's the weed, Andie. That's what I'm asking."
"Ohhh." I walk into my room and she follows me in.
"It's all in this bag," I shrug, "I don't know if I'm supposed to touch it or not."
She laughs and rolls her eyes. I laugh too.
Geez, her laugh is contagious.
She takes the bag, opens it, takes a bud out and sets up the bong. She sits on my bed and motions me to do the same. She pulls a galaxy-patterned lighter out of her back pocket and waves it in front of my face to get my attention.
"Are you a fast learner?" She asks me.
"Somewhat, yes."
"Alright, watch this." She lights the small pot and inhales, drawing milky smoke into the mouthpiece. She directs her eyes back to me and motions me to watch her hands.
... I kinda just want to watch her face?
But, I mean, it's fine. I don't even know what I'm saying. Her hands are cool too.
She pulls the pot out and inhales the smoke. She holds it in her mouth for a few seconds, then slowly exhales through her mouth. She looks right at me as the clouds float away from her lips.
"Alright. You think you got it?" She hands me the bong.
"Pfff. Yeah, totally." I laugh.
I swear, I copy her move by move, but I end up choking and coughing and falling head first into her lap.
"Did I do it right?"
"Yeah, totally." She pushes me up off of her and hands me the bong again. I try once more, this time inhaling without coughing and gagging. I feel strangely accomplished watching the billow of smoke swim around the room.
Many, many hits later, we're both laying on my bed, staring out the window.
"It must be nice waking up to such a beautiful view every morning."
"Eh, it's not the best."
She turns towards me with a frown on her face.
"MY apartment window has a view of a seven eleven and a Panera Bread. The Golden Gate Bridge is basically the Eiffel Tower compared to that."
"I just think there's prettier things that one could wake up to."
"Like what?"
Like you.
"Like... I don't know. The Eiffel Tower, I guess." I stutter out.
"You have a point. Take what you can get though, right?"
