Promises We Keep

23

MARCUS POV

Ken is leaving today. His things are all packed and loaded into his car. We're lying on his bedroom floor entangled in each other's arms, staring up at his ceiling. It's just a mixture of blues, purples, and blacks now because it's daytime. But we know that the stars are still there. I snuggle closer to him.

"I wish we could stay like this forever," I whisper, kissing his neck.

"Me too," he says, pulling me closer. "Who would've thought we'd end up like this?"

"Right? I remember the first time we met and your weird ass brought me here. I laid on this floor staring up at this ceiling until I fell asleep."

"And then you totally ghosted me," Ken said laughing.

"Whatever," I say smiling.

Ken kisses me slowly, running his fingers through my hair. "I know it's only two months but I'm going to miss you."

"Yes you are. Because, I'm awesome."

Ken rolls his eyes. "You're not going to miss me?"

"Dude, I'm going to be chilling here with your mom watching Netflix."

"You're an ass," he laughs. "I have no doubt that you'll call me in the middle of my first night on campus asking me some random stupid question like who would win between Vin Diesel and The Rock. And we both know that The Rock would get his ass kicked.

I look at him unamused. "Let's get something straight. We both know that you'll be calling me first. And, how the hell is Vin Diesel going to kick The Rock's ass? Dwayne Johnson is WWE gold."

Ken's eyes widen. "WWE is scripted! Fake!"

"That doesn't mean he isn't trained. The moves are all Dwayne." I say, flexing my muscles pretending I'm The Rock.

Ken looks at me like I'm an idiot shaking his head. "Why do I even try?"

"You love me," I say laughing.

"That," he pauses kissing me, "I do."

"Now you better behave out there. Don't go turning into a delinquent criminal since you'll be on your own without adult supervision," I say, wrapping my arms around him and pulling him closer. It's like we're trying to meld ourselves together.

"There goes my plan to enter the drug trade," he says, sighing.

Pfft. "You? In the drug trade? Please. I was thinking more along the lines of littering or destruction of school property," I snort.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I would be a prime asset to the drug trade. I can manufacture a better hallucinogenic than anything on the market. It will have none of the bad side effects that the ones now have. One hit and you're guaranteed a chill time. All the feelings of infinity with none of the paranoia, headaches, and dizziness."

"When did you do drugs?"

"Never. But that isn't the point."

"Okay. Humor me. How do you make the drug?" I ask. What am I going to do with this idiot?

"DMT and Marplan," he says with a shrug.

Wow. He has no idea what he's talking about. "You're going to mix DMT with isocarboxazid. Monoamine oxidase inhibitors accumulate serotonin and norepinephrine in the brain. That massively increases the effects of DMT."

"I'll never get over the fact that you know so much about chemistry and don't want to do anything with it. But yeah, isn't increasing the DMT the point?" Ken asks, confused.