leaked (l.h.)

29

"So all you have to do is bring it to your lips," Ashton explains as he hands me the roll. He has already taken a hit or two, and I watch as the smoke blows out of his lips with each word he speaks. "And inhale. It's that easy."

I nod as I take it from him, looking up at him as I feel the rain on my skin. We do this in my backyard in an attempt to keep my house from reeking of marijuana, although I sort of wish I'd never had agreed to do it in the first place. But I do as I am told, bringing it to my lips and closing my eyes I inhale. The burn of the smoke fills my lungs. I don't like it.

"Hold it," Ashton encourages me. "Hold it for one, two..."

But I can't help but choke at the smoke, and I turn away to cough it out. I cover my mouth as I do this, the smoke escaping from my nose and mouth and disappearing into the air. 

"You can have some of my soda" Luke hands me the can as he comes up beside me. He was the first to test out the marijuana, and as his eyes look glazed over I know that it's already starting to affect him. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel okay," I respond, despite the burning in my chest as I take a sip of the soda. I don't feel okay at all, but I try to keep myself from complaining. 

"You did better than I expected," Calum finishes the blunt I had just taken a hit from. "Are you sure you've never done this before?"

"I am," I say, my voice scratchy. I wish I could've stayed sober tonight. 

"Are we done?" Luke asks. "Should we move up to your room, Grace?"

"We can," I nod, handing him his soda back. I clear my throat, and already I feel a sort of tiredness take me over. 

I lead the four of them up to my bedroom, and as the four of them all try to pile onto my bed I close the door behind me. I smell the pizza cooking downstairs, and it shouldn't be much longer until it is done. 

I walk over to the seat in front of my vanity, watching how they all look around my room as if it's the most wonderful thing they've seen in a while. And when Luke goes to turn on the fairy lights, I see that they're totally immersed by the glittering lights above their heads. 

It's silent for a while, the five of us finally starting to fall into the highs that the weed has provided us. Except for me, I think it's just made me tired.

"What happens if we screw tomorrow up?" Michael asks, laying his orange head on one of my pillows as he moves to the hardwood floor when he realizes that the bed isn't big enough for all of them. "Do we give up?"

"We can't," Calum responds. "I turned out a soccer scholarship for this band. It can't be over."

"That was stupid," Ashton scoffs. "And if it doesn't work out, what? You'll work at McDonald's the rest of your life?"

"No," he shakes his head. "I'll beg for it back."

"It's either the band, or I move back home with my family in the summer," Luke says after a second or two, curled up near where I rest my head every night. And as he says this, four pairs of eyes move up to meet his. He says this so nonchalantly, as if it's common knowledge. "And then I'll have to give it up."

I can't help but feel my jaw drop.

"What?" Calum sits up. "You're moving back home?"

"My Mum only moved here to help my Dad," he sits up. "And now that he's dead..."

"Oh my god," Michael responds. "You're moving?"

"If this thing tomorrow doesn't work out, then yes." He looks over at me. "So I'm kind of praying that it does."

I didn't think about Luke moving back home. I mean, I knew why he came here. But the possibility of him moving back to be with his family never occurred to me. God, I wish it did before I found myself wanting him. 

But my world shatters apart at the thought of him leaving. I could barely handle two, three days away from him. But now?

"But, like, if you go on tour..." I begin, my eyebrows once again finding themselves furrowing together as I piece the story together. "So either way, you're leaving?"

"I guess. But I'll come back," he looks over at me. "I'll come visit any chance I get."

"Okay," I let out a soft sigh. But as I feel my heart breaking, I know that this is what he was talking about - how I can't let him be happy without him feeling like he's hurting me. "I'm excited for you. That's going to be amazing!"

"Grace," he sits up, knowing that something is off about me. "Are you okay?"

"Of course I'm okay," I stand up, avoiding the tears that I'm having trouble holding back because of that damn weed. "The pizza is done."