New fear unlocked: eating at parties.
Yesterday, I planned to update. The chapter was half-done. Then my cousin came and said it’s our neighbor’s birthday so I should come with him. I wanted to say no. But…
Nah, I’m just kidding. I got dressed in less than five minutes and was behind that boy with my chest out.
Bro, the first red flag was everyone was smoking. Smoke made clouds. And that should have made me leave—since I don’t smoke, but there was a lot of fine girls (and boys too ;)). For some reason these people kept passing me the blunt. I refused.
So, I was chilling, doing me, and they brought the food out. Yes, I accepted the food because what could go wrong?
A lot actually.
Dude, I enjoyed that barbecue. I don’t eat spicy food but I ate a lot of that food. Like two plates. Or three. I don’t know. Did I mention I was already drinking? Yes, I was.
Then someone new came, and this girl who served me my food told the person that everything had weed in it. And I was shocked that my cup dropped from my hand. I wanted to leave, but bro… my head did this spinning thing and I sat right back down (I knew I hadn’t reached my drinking limit. I never do)
Then I started to panic. Like… I was scared that I was going to die because I couldn’t breathe. And through it all, I was trying to act normal. I told my cousin the food had weed, and the dude said… “I know. Didn’t you?”
Most of what happened was a blur, and my cousin had to explain the story to me today. Dude said I vomited a lot, but the good thing is I didn’t act stupid or cause a scene. I cried myself to sleep, while thinking the pillow was my girl, cuddling with it.
I don’t think I’m attending a party soon. That boy knew that thing had weed and he called me because he wanted to f$$k me up since—according to him—I’m always acting tuff.
I WILL GET MY LICK BACK!
