First Impressions

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***This is just a very brief sample because The Pinkie Pact is now published on Amazon as an ebook and paperback! Woohoo!***

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***This is just a very brief sample because The Pinkie Pact is now published on Amazon as an ebook and paperback! Woohoo!***

Thank you so much for all the love and support on this story. Your feedback and comments have been extremely helpful. 

And as always, much love to you!

Jenna xoxo


Church. That was the maker of the toilet. And it wasn't the first time I'd thrown up in a Church toilet and wondered why the hell they'd thought that was a good brand name.

"Move over," my new roommate Kara muttered, trying to shove me to the side.

When I didn't budge, she gave up and tossed her cookies into the sink instead.

I was too weak to even get up. Kara slunk down onto the floor, her mascara streaking down her face. I was sure I looked the same way. Shit, we looked like a couple of junkies.

Not even caring about germs or grossness, I put my arms on the toilet seat and rested my head.

The last thought in my mind before oblivion—my first night at my new college, and I had already fucked up.

***

The next morning, I woke up to the smell of pot. It had been months. And the smell instantly brought me back to my first two years of college at Syracuse when my roommates and I had smoked all the time.

We'd done just about everything all the time. And I'd hit rock bottom.

My parents had yanked me out of there. And after a year of solid work, living at home, and promises of living a clean life, they'd given me another chance at a new school, George Washington University, in our lovely nation's capital.

And here I was again. Damn. I held my head in my hands, still in front of the disgusting toilet.

"You want some?" Kara came into the bathroom, holding out a joint.

What the hell? I knew from experience it'd help the head-splitting hangover. I took a small puff and closed my eyes, letting it calm me, the smell feeling like coming home for some strange reason.

"You can have it," Kara said.

I looked up. "Thanks." I took another puff, already feeling the effects. The truth was after not smoking weed for over a year, I was now a total lightweight. And it didn't take much to move my hangover to the side.

That's how I always thought about it. Menstrual cramps, headaches, anxiety, any sort of pain... pot just moved it to the side so you didn't quite feel it anymore. Not all the way gone. Just over to the edge of your consciousness.

I watched Kara go back to her bed and roll another joint. We had just met last night, and I didn't know hardly anything about her, except that she was the daughter of a senator, a US Senator from New Hampshire.

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