- Adrenaline -

Chapter 10: THC and Reconcilation.

     ((There is use of marijuana in this chapter!!! Don't like it then don't read it!!!))

     I approach the well lit house on Comma Street, the front door wide open, welcoming anyone who passes by. Kennedy must have seen me walking up his driveway, as I got a text from him not long after.

Stupid Jock, 5:21 PM
            im upstairs
Stupid Jock, 5:21 PM
            in my bedroom

Me, 5:21 PM
            Whatever, Kennedy.

     I pass through the doorway. Some people greeted me, recognizing my name from the fairs posters. The recognition is nice, but the attention is frightening. I ask and someone points me to the alcohol, where I grab a solo cup and start sipping on it, making my way up the carpeted stairs. To the left is Johns bedroom, beside it is the bathroom, and to the right is his parents room. They're either enabling this, or they're very busy very often.
     Holding the cup tightly in my small hands, I slowly approach Johns door and knock a couple of times. There's giggling coming from the other side. The door swings open and two girls leave his room, smelling like weed and whiskey. My jaw clenches. Why am I so upset over that?
     John asks me to come in. I have half a mind to turn around and leave right now. Instead, I close the door behind me. Johns back is turned to me, while he rolls another joint.

     "What do you want, Kennedy? I walked all the way here because you asked me to. So what is it?" I cross my arms, impatiently staring at him.
     "I don't know."
     He sits down on his bed, his hair ruffled. John hands me the joint. "Want the first hit?"
     I sneer at him, grabbing it and sticking the butt between my lips. Don't smoke kids.
    
     "I don't have a light."
     "I do."
     John holds up a lighter to my mouth, the end briefly catching fire for just a second. The smoke is still harsh on my throat. He's silent for a bit, watching me take half a hit.
     I cough, handing it back to him, sitting down beside him.
     "You know, I thought you didn't want to talk to me anymore."
     "Nah," he groans, falling backwards, just to meet with his plush red sheets. "I just didn't want word to get around."
     "What, you mean that you like boys?"
     He passes it back to me, choosing silence over conversation.
     "Well, I guess you're not alone."
     Laying back slowly, I take another it. It's easier this time. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I've never liked- I mean, I've never felt attraction towards- anyone, I guess."
     Johns face scrunches up. He turns to look at me,
     "There's nothin' wrong with that, bro. Sometimes dudes like dudes, like dudes like chicks."
     "So you're bi then?"
     "Hm?"
     My hand lifts in the air, joint between my fingers, waiting for him to grab it.
     "Those girls you were just with. They were all over you, right? It's clear you like girls, too."
     "Oh, I thought you meant I could write with both hands."
     John takes the joint. I snort at his response.
     "You know, John, sometimes I think I hate your guts- but you're really good at making me laugh."
     "Yeah? I like your laugh. You giggle for a little and then you uh, snort, like a little dog or uh, somethin'."
     The silence encroaches on our conversation. I think we're thinking about the same thing.
     "Um.. that afternoon, when I-"
     "I already told you it's fine."
     "No, Vincent, I gotta say it."
     John sits up, criss-crossed, looking at me.
     "If I don't say it then it's gonna keep uh, keep haunting me, and I'm not good with ghosts."
     Okay, rather poetic. I prop myself up on my elbows. "Fine then."

     "That afternoon, when I- I er uh, I kissed you. It was impulsive and I'm sorry about it. It was also really impulsive to uh, ask you to stay. I don't want to make you uncomfortable like that. That was super uncool of me."
     "You sound like Ponce."
     "He's been my right hand man through this."
      Through... this? What's this? What is he talking about?
     "John, that's cool of you, but you can't take the blame like that." I finally scoot up, my knees up to my chest. "What you did was.. scary. But I also kind of fucked up."
     "What? How?"
     "I ran away. I ran away and avoided you. I mean, the kiss probably didn't mean anything but I still should have-"
     "What if it did?"
     "- been nicer about it- wait. What?"
     "What if it- it uh, did mean something?"
     If I wasn't confused before, I sure as hell am now. "Did it.. mean something to you?"
     "I mean, uh, yeah. I er uh, it kinda was an accident at first but uh, it kind of uh..."
     "Awoken something in you?"
     "Yeah. I think so."
     "So it was a mistake?"
     "Yeah, but.. a good one? Dads always told me to be proud of myself, it's just kinda weird."
     I nod, silently telling him I understand. By now the joint is mostly finished. My eyes meet his and I laugh a little.
     "John, you look stoned as shit."
     He leans forward, defensive, but with a smile. "Your eyes match your hair, dweeb!"
     "You're the worst and I hate you."
     "Prove it!"
      Oh, you stupid son of a bitch. Thus ensues the kind of play fight you see in movies, the kind where the girl pushes the guy a little, and the guy tackles her, and it's a bunch of name calling and back and forth teasing while one is on top of the other. They're faces are inches apart. I can smell the vanilla on his lips. This time, I make the first move. I hated it and it was awful and embarrassing. My head hits the pillow and I cover my face, trying to hide from the larger man on top of me.
     "Shit, shit, sorry, that was stupid-"
     But he takes my hands off my face, and he looks at me gently.
     "You're a bad kisser." John states simply. "Too rough. Ya gotta be more gentle. Like this."

     A thought appeared in my head, one that I thought I'd never think in a million years. Wow, John is a good teacher.

~*~

     My eyes crack open, just a bit. I'm slow to remember that I'm still at Johns house. I can still hear the music over his gentle breathing. Patting myself down for my phone, I whip it out and check the time. 2:33 AM, huh? At least I can sneak home without getting caught.
     My shirts off again. This time I remember why, so I'm not as scared as I was the first time.  I pat around, looking for it desperately in the dark, before throwing on the first thing I feel.
     I stumble out of the bed, and out of the door. The lights are all off, so I guess the parties over. Someone must have left the music on. So, I make my way home in the dark, my phones GPS lighting the yellow brick road all the way back to my house. Sunday will come, and I'll work on my homework then. For now, I have a lot of self reflection to do.

[ OKAY UHHH THINGS GET SPICY AFTER THIS!!!! REMEMBER THIS IS FOR MATURE AUDIENCES. WILL I BE WRITING SMUT? NO IDEA!!! BUT IT WILL BE GETTING SAUCY!!!!]