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Ziyah's POV

I screwed things up, no I fucked things up, and I can't stop seeing that picture of Daya and Chase just like I can't stop seeing the image of her holding my face in front of Harper's house. It may sound weird, but when she looked right at me in front of that big ass house I actually began to trust her, making her the first person next to Lucas that I trust. There's only 1% of me that thought Daya slept with Chase, and that percent died when I saw her. Still I just can't take being in a relationship, not with all the emotions they come with, the emotions I can't handle and even want to have.

This is why when I get home I don't talk to Bree who's downstairs, and go straight into her room. Unfortunately she follows me upstairs and gets to me before I can get what I want.

"Zi what are you doing? I put your sweatshirt back in your room," she says. Her voice actually sounds like it normally does, and not crazy high pitched or raspy like it does when she's in withdraw.

I don't want to talk right now, but I turn around to look at her for a quick second. "Where's your stash?" I ask sounding just like her.

"Zi you're sober you don't need my stash," she says. She moves from the doorway and walks into the middle of her room where I am.

"Nah not anymore, you were right that sober living just won't work out."

I expected Bree to be cool with this, but I guess I needed to catch her when she was on drugs and not herself because she has that annoying uneasy expression. "Zi how about you just draw or something?" she says. She plays with the hair sprouting from her ponytail.

I give Bree a look that says I'm not playing around. "Bree I don't want to draw, or talk, or sit with you by the island, I just broke up with my girlfriend and saw my dad, all I wanna do is get high, so where is your stash?" I'm kind of being nice asking because I was just going to try and find it myself before she came in here. It's not like she needs any more drugs after she practically drank that whole bottle of vodka.

Bree lets out a sigh and walks past me and to her bed. She gets on her knees like she did when she was begging me to see that man, and she begins looking under the bed like she did when she was looking for the vodka. Shit, she doesn't need to do all of that, if she would've told me where it was I would of looked myself. After a few minutes of me standing over her as she searches under her bed she slowly moves herself from under her bed and stands up with a box in her hand. It's the same box with that she took the photograph of her ,but it doesn't look like it has that many photos in it anymore.

"Where are the photos?" I ask.

Bree throws the box on her bed and pulls out a smaller light pink box. "Nah, You wanna treat me like a dealer, and not your sister, that's what you get, no questions." She pulls out bag with about a quarter in it, and throws it at me like I'm one of those targets in those stupid carnival games.

She narrows her eyes at me and puts both of the boxes back under bed. "I assume you got the papers right?"

"Yeah thanks," I say. I stay for a moment looking at her until she crosses her arms and gives me that look that comes before a burst of her anger.

I walk out of the room, but not before hearing Bree say, "And to think I was going to stay sober because of him." I should look back at her, but instead I act like I didn't hear a word she said, and head into my room. The next hour or so I spend rolling which I'm not that good at because Lucas used to do it, but still I manage and roll and smoke. It's sure has been a while because I end up coughing on my first inhale, but that doesn't stop me from smoking and going back to my favorite hobby. No more thinking, no more long conversations, no using big words that Daya taught me, just clouds of smoke filling my room as my brain becomes empty.