PERFECT PLACES

Cole (3)

Cole had partied a bit in high school. He had gone out with his friends maybe once a month, as soon as his older brother had turned old enough to buy him alcohol. Cole didn't mind house parties, but he usually found that he had the most fun out in the streets, late at night, doing and saying dumb things.

The three times that Cole had smoked weed in high school had all been in twelfth grade. He always did it with his two best friends, Carl and Drew. They did the same thing every night they did it: they used the fence perpendicular to a wall of their old elementary school to push themselves up into the air so that their hands could reach the first rungs of the ladder that led to the roof. Cole was scared of heights, and by the tenth rung of the ladder, his hands were usually sweating badly. Once they made it up to the top of the ladder, they would step onto the roof of the two-story building that housed most of their childhood memories below them.

They would walk across the roof of the building until they found a secluded spot where they couldn't be seen by people walking by. Cole didn't know what kind of trouble they would have gotten into if they had been seen, but it didn't matter, because being up there was just too much fun with his two best friends. And looking back on it as he told me about it, Cole acknowledged that those nights were some of the fondest memories he could remember from high school.

They would smoke a joint or two, or if one of them had a bong they would each smoke a few bowls, and like that they were having a great time, twenty feet up in the air. Someone would take out their phone and play some relaxing music. Cole says he remembers staring out at the street lamps on the street, and how as he smoked he liked staring at them and squinting his eyes to see the light move and stretch across his view. Then he would tilt his head back and forth, and the stretched light would move, too. And if he was enjoying this simple task enough, he then knew that he was high.

Getting down the ladder was always harder than climbing up sober, and Cole always took his time to make sure that his hands and feet didn't slip. His shoes would slowly reach the top of the fence again. He would feel the ground spin a little as his feet hit the ground.

Then the three of them would walk twenty-five minutes down the road to the nearest fast-food restaurant.

...

Cole was a little paranoid after the joints had made their way around the circle a few times. He told the group he was worried that the floor leader might come and shut down their party.

"Ah shit, you're probably right," said Caleb, "We can go outside I guess and walk by the water or something"

It was already obvious to Cole that he was not going to make it to a bar that night. The weed made him very zoned out, very cloud-like. He already felt like walking around and listening to music, getting some food, and finding a nice place to lie down. He wondered if the others were going to do the same. He was hoping that someone would tag along.

"One sec," said Kyle, "Let's do some lines first if we're not coming back here before the clubs."

Cole knew what that meant, but he had never seen it before. He was very tense all of a sudden. The weed really didn't help. The girls didn't seem shocked; they seemed interested, intrigued. The floor leader could knock on the door at any moment, Cole was sure of it.

Caleb reached into his drawer and brought out a ziplock bag. Without another moment passing, the entire bag was dumped onto the surface of his desk. Then, he turned the music way down. Everyone and everything went silent.

"Whoever wants to try it, this first night is free," Caleb explained, "But after that, you gotta pitch in. Always a fun time to try it though, to see if you like it."

Kyle took out his wallet and took out two cards: his credit card and his new student card. He and Caleb started breaking apart the pile, spreading portions into different areas, shaping vertical lines out of the stuff. Cole looked over at the girls, who were all staring at what was on the desk. Lisa and Abbey seemed curious. Jess looked more scared.

Cole wasn't sure how he felt. He mostly felt uneasy, but he wasn't quite sure if it was because of the new environment, because someone could smell the room from outside at any moment and catch them and tell someone, or because it was a dangerous thing that he had heard so much about but never thought he would ever have any exposure to in his own life.

Caleb went first: the leader. He had the dollar bill rolled, and he did it casually, as if he'd done it a hundred times before. Cole would have believed him if he had told them that he had.

Kyle went second. He seemed more excited than Caleb, becoming all talkative and giggly before doing it. He smiled afterward, like he had been waiting for that very moment all day.

Abbey went third. She had done it once before, and had liked it. She wasn't even a little hesitant.

Lisa went forth. She obviously had never done it before, and asked each of the first three what it was like and how she should do it so as to not hurt her nose. She leaned forward twice and backed out both times. On the third time, she got half of it. On the fourth time, it was all gone.

After these four went, there was a pause. Jess and Cole were not there behind Lisa to go next. They were the most hesitant.

Jess then said that she didn't want to try it, that it freaked her out a bit too much. Cole felt the same way, but he didn't say anything. He wasn't exactly sure why. There was still a minimal feeling in his stomach telling him that he could do it. That he should do whatever would make his first night of college memorable. Something he would remember forever. Something he could look back on, and recall fondly as being significant. To make a crazy, unforgettable memory. He wasn't sure if cocaine would satisfy that urge; he wasn't sure if it would turn the night into the incredible night that he was hoping for.

In the back of his head, Cole thought about Sarah. He knew that she wouldn't approve of this. He didn't have much time to think about it, though. He didn't know if it would be worth bringing up later, with guilt. He didn't know if it was worth the risk. And the disapproval. And the shame.

Despite all of these feelings, he found his arms pushing off of the bean bag chair and his feet planting themselves on the floor and his body standing up to go over to the desk. Once he was standing up, there was no return. Everyone was looking at him. They were all expecting him to go through with it, at that point. And like that he had the dollar bill in his hand.

His mind became dissociated. His mind, at that point, was only thinking about how to do the task correctly. He started staring at the powder on the desk while the other two guys energetically cheered him on.

He sniffed in hard and moved the bill along the wood surface.