Black Jack

32. Devouring A Popsicle

32: devouring a popsicle

At this point, we were in the woods. The trees drenched the car in darkness, and the road was made of dirt. Low sounds of the wild were unheard over Aaronzé's speaker. We had been on this road for at least ten minutes.

    I continued to roll up. He'd given me a 1.5 to fit into this swisher that was between my fingers.

    "We're here," He states, putting the car in park, "Are you finished?"

I nod, licking the last fold and swiping my finger over it. I set it down to dry out, "We can smoke it in a minute."

      "You smoke often then?" Aaronzé asked, not really meaning it as a question.

I shake my head, "Not really, only with my mom a few times, but she made sure I knew how to roll it up."

     He sat back in his seat, adam's apple exposed, "My ma never approved of shit like that."

"Really?" I raised a brow, "How come?" Aaronzé could only shrug in response, "She said it was meaningless."

   I sat on that thought for a second. I normally smoked just to relax and watch TV with my mom, to get a break from the stressfulness that was David.

    "I see why she might say that, but do you know if she's ever smoked?"

     He shakes his head, "Nah she never... Which makes me wonder why she dislikes it so much."

     I turned in my seat to face him, "Maybe it's just because you're her son and she doesn't want you to smoke. You're on the basketball team you know."

      "They never check me."

He sounded almost too confident in what he just said. I rolled my eyes, "Yeah okay." My hand reached over to touch the blunt lightly. It felt dry already.

  Good.

I picked it up, and then a lighter. I put the blunt to my lips and sparked, the smell of the flame hitting the gar entered my nostrils. I inhaled, pulling smoke directly into my lungs for a good seven seconds.

Aaronzé sighs, "Prom is in a month..."

   "Is this your way of asking me to be your date?" I exhaled, "You haven't even asked me to be your girlfriend."