BONSAI!

I. Everett

Sometimes, it's a simple answer found in your own home.

1999; a year of restless anticipation and empty grocery stores, a considerable population of gym rats and game shows and the bitter smell of black coffee through the suburbs of Everett, Washington.

The world was coming to an end as we knew it according to David Eddy and McGraw-Hill which, to Mark, seemed fucking ridiculous. But, what did he know? He was too busy trying to keep his joint together, bits of weed falling between his shaking fingers. He had woken up at exactly six-thirty for the past month and a half so he could clamber his way to the upstairs bathroom, the only one in his house with a window, to smoke before school. He knew his parents slept in unless it was Sunday. He also knew that they didn't know the difference between the smell of incense and the smell of weed.

When he was finally able to assemble his joint, sticking his tongue out a bit to lick both sides and stick them together, he sighed in relief.

He grabbed his lighter off of the counter and put the toilet seat down, climbing up on top of it to unlock the window and push it open.

Mark leaned each elbow on either side of the windowsill, lighting his joint and taking a deep inhale. He watched the cloud of smoke as it left his mouth.

He liked this feeling; the cold fall breeze nipping at his skin as his heart fluttered in his chest and his head felt light, the high settling in quickly.

The sun was just starting to rise. Of course, Mark couldn't actually see this since he was facing the West, but he watched with sleep in his eyes as the sky slowly lit up, cascading the neighboring houses in a blurry coat of morning sun.

Yeah, he liked this. He liked this a lot.

That is, until the sharp sound of a car horn in his driveway jolted him from his weed-induced reverie.

"Ah— Ow, what the fuck..." Mark groaned in pain, holding his head where he had hit it on the top of the windowsill.

He leaned over as far as he could, looking past his roof to find exactly who he'd expected.

Johnathan Suh, a lanky 22-year-old sitting in a bright red 1987 Corvette Convertible was grinning smugly up at Mark, his long arm swung over the passenger-side headrest. Mark had known Johnathan for as long as he could remember, the Suh family were regulars at their church.

"What do you want?" Mark croaked from his bathroom window, joint still in his left hand.

"What do you think? I'm driving you to school!" Johnathan yelled back, not bothering to consider the fact that it was 6AM in a sleeping neighborhood.

"Why?" Mark said, taking a hit from his joint.

"Because your parents don't trust you after last weekend. They trust me, so hurry or I'm leaving." Johnny said with an impatient hand gesture.

Mark exhaled dramatically, flicking the stub of his joint off the roof and hopping down from the toilet. He glanced at his reflection in the bathroom mirror and ran a hand through his messy hair.

He was clad in a pair of navy blue boxers that hung at his hip bones as he made his way to his room, pushing the door open and reaching for his dresser drawer. He managed to throw on a pair of black trousers and his wool uniform sweater, a pair of mismatched socks on both feet as he took two steps at a time down the carpeted stairs. He grabbed the pair of P.F. Flyer's he kept by the welcome mat and his black Jansport backpack, making sure not to slam the door behind him as he padded to Johnathan's car.

"Took you long enough, dipshit." Johnathan said, wearing that same grin he always seemed to have plastered on his face. Mark shook his head with a soundless chuckle, hopping over the passenger door and throwing his bag in the backseat.