Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 101796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
The bitch needs to get a clue and maybe some self-respect while she’s at it. “All I’m saying is, I’m gonna need a lot more of this if I’m going to sit here and act like I wouldn’t sell tickets to watch her get her ass beat.” I hold up my can before draining it.
It’s Kellan who overhears me, clapping a hand on my shoulder when he comes up from behind me. “You want to unplug?” He holds up what looks like a small bong. “Have some of this. Let yourself melt into the chair. Nothing will bother you.”
“You’ve graduated to bubblers now?” Briggs asks, nodding toward the device in Kellan’s hand.
“It’s a smoother hit than a joint or a bowl,” Kellan explains as he hands me the bubbler.
Why the hell not? Whatever it takes to get rid of all this pressure that won’t let me go. She won’t let me go.
Yeah, I definitely need some of this.
He’s right, too. It’s a much smoother hit than I’m used to. Then again, I don’t smoke as much as some of my friends do. Not that I have a problem with it. But there are certain lines Dad has forbidden me to cross. He knows I drink and figures it’s going to happen whether or not he likes it, but he still has pretty old-fashioned ideas about weed, and he loves to tell stories of accidents he has seen the aftermath of. “Everybody thinks they’re fine to drive while they’re high,” he likes to remind me. “They know drunk driving is stupid and dangerous, but they figure a little weed is no problem. Tell that to the guys who have to cut them out of their car after they wrap it around a light pole.” So I don’t keep it around the house and only smoke when I’m at a party where it’s available.
Which means it only takes a few hits before I start to feel it. “Shit, this is potent.” Does that stop me from going in for more? No fucking way, because for the first time in a long time, the problems that were hanging over me when I got here don’t seem like such a big deal. Everything that was weighing on me sort of melts away. I feel lighter than I have in a long time.
“Look at you.” An unwelcome voice rings out in my ear before they sit on the arm of the chair so she can grin down at me. She’s wearing a skimpy tank top and shorts that show everything but her pussy. “I didn’t know you liked to smoke that much.”
“Yeah, I guess there’s a lot of things about me you don’t know, Tiana.” And she never will. When she leans in way too close until she’s almost sitting on top of me, I have to shrug her off. “What is it with you? Let a guy breathe.”
“I’m just trying to be friendly. I know you were mad at me before, and I wanted to make it up to you.”
“I never asked you to make it up to me. And you don’t have to,” I insist. “We’re fine, okay?”
We’re not, but I’ll say just about anything to get her off me. She is nothing but a nasty, scheming little cunt.
And that’s why the touch of her fingers on my forearm makes me flinch. “Go away,” I bark. All around us, conversation goes quiet. Not silent, but definitely not as loud as before.
“Go on,” Briggs tells her, jerking a thumb. “Stop being a pain in the ass for once.”
Her eyes narrow dangerously before she gets up without saying a word. Just having her away from me has me blowing out a sigh of relief. “She’s like shit on my shoe,” I mutter, leaning over to grab a piece of pizza. “It doesn’t matter how I try to scrub her off.”
But now that she’s gone to bother somebody else, I can relax into my high again. Nothing is that serious. Everything’s under control. After I finish my slice—which might be some of the best pizza I’ve ever eaten in my entire life—I rest my head against the back of the chair, lost in the over-the-top scene playing out on the TV.
Wishing it wouldn’t make me think of Elliana. What’s she doing right now? Probably glad I’m out of the house, the way I’m glad to be away from her for now. But it’s only for now. I still have to see her when I go home, unless she finds a way to hide out.
I’m still thinking about her when my eyes drift shut once it’s too much effort to keep them open.
“You’re fucking kidding me!”
It’s that shout and the laughter that follows it, which shakes me out of a deep sleep. Fuck, how long was I out for? My head is packed with cotton, and my eyes are dry. I’ve never had cottonmouth this bad, either. The shit Kellan gave me was strong enough to knock me out.