WHEN YOU LOVE

CROSSFADING

Dylan had drunk and smoked. If at other times no effects were to deplore. This time, his body said no, bro, you're pushing too hard.

Yes, sometimes shit happens, and it wouldn't be shitty if things didn't occur when one least desired.

"Dylan, what the fuck, get up, bro," Dibbs said.

"Dylan, Dylan," Carly called and was about to shake him when Candy screamed, "don't touch him." Candy approached and knelt beside Dylan, "never touch or move an unconscious person.

"Yo, Candy, I don't want no drama. My parents are going to kill me if someone dies here."

"He isn't dead, is he?" Asked Carly.

Candy put a finger under Dylan's nose, "No, he's still breathing. It's the crossfading impact."

"The cross what?"

Candy rolled her eyes. She couldn't believe the group was unaware of the undesired effects of their every weekend practice.

"It means he's tripping," Rupert replied.

"No, he isn't tripping. Crossfading consists in drinking and smoking simultaneously. He's probably greening out," Candy replied.

"How do you know that?"Becky asked, earning herself a dark eye from Carly.

"Listen, it's not important. Dylan, can you hear me, Dylan?"

"Canㅡdy."

It was her voice; she was still there. The girl's voice was distant but reassuring. Everything would be okay if Candy was still there.

"Dylan."

The boy coughed, and out came the vomit.

Greg grimaced, "Shit."

"Gross."

Everyone stepped back.

"Hey, guys, we can't leave him in this position, help me sit him up," Candy said.

Carly shook her head, "you said we shouldn't move him."

"Don't be stupid. We can't let him swallow his vomit. Help me."

Candy's words had the opposite effect on the group, who took a few more steps back, but to her surprise, Shane stepped forward, "what do you want me to do?" The boy asked.

"He needs to sit up. Help me take him to the toilet."

Shane advanced.

"ㅡYo, get him out of here."

Candy turned to Greg, "he just needs to clear his stomach."

"He can clear it elsewhere. Look at the shit he has already made."

Candy sighed and stared at Shane, who shrugged and helped her get Dylan up.

In his haze, all Dylan sensed was Candy's presence. Her Lush American cream perfume invaded his nostrils.

The three left Greg's house and ended up at the bus stop further down the road.

"Thanks, Shane," Candy said as they both aided Dylan get I'm a position that allowed him to evacuate what remainders in his gut.

The take was an ugly one full of lumps of milk, the rest of the beans and sausages Dylan had for lunch in a horrendous blend of a murky brown substance.

Shane mugged while Candy took off her shirt to wipe Dylan's mouth. Shane couldn't believe that Candy preferred to sacrifice her shirt for Dylan's sake. The boy took off his hoodie to give it to Candy, who now only wore a tank top and parachute pants.