Voodoo [H.S.]

Eight

"Tell me something," I say, propping myself up to face her on the grass.

"Like what?"

"Anything."

She pauses for moment in thought, holding her other hand to her chin. "I miss my best friend."

"Tell me about her."

"Her name is Shaye. We met when we were eight and we've been attached at the hip since. She's loud, a bit obnoxious, very much the kind of person that you either love or hate. Come to think of it, she'd probably get along with Zayn really well," she laughs as she speaks, seemingly just talking out her thoughts exactly like I wanted her to.

"Where is she now?"

A look of uncertainty passes across Cassie's face at that, and she looks down at the grass as she speaks. "She's in Arizona."

"I've never been, what's Arizona like?" I ask.

"Brown, dry, boring. You might die because the person next to you is having a bad day," she says casually, giggling at that. "Maybe you'd be okay there."

"I don't kill just anyone," I smirk at her.

"Jokes aside, Arizona can be okay. The most beautiful sunsets you'll ever see. Mountains in every direction. I lived in the Phoenix area, but Shaye and I used to take a trip to a city called Sedona. Sedona has these huge, gorgeous red rocks that are said to be spiritual. People go there to pray to the red rocks. We would get pretty, uh... spiritual ourselves when we would take our trips." She sits up to sit criss cross next to me, taking the strings of her hoodie in her hands as she speaks.

"What? You just get high and sit on the rocks?" I feel like I'm not picking up whatever she's putting down.

"Something like that," she shrugs.

I sit and think about it for a moment, wondering what that could mean and why she's being so cryptic. They would take spiritual...trips...

"You took mushrooms up there?" It dawns on me suddenly. Wow, I really didn't expect that from her, but it sounds like she's full of surprises.

"Once a year," she nods in confirmation. "It was so good. I can't even explain to you. I miss it. I miss her."

I mentally take note of the new thing I've learned about her, storing it away in the back of my head. "Psychedelic's are the one drug I've never messed with," I admit.

"Wow, Mr. Drug Lord has never taken a trip. I'm shocked. Pussy," she sticks her tongue out playfully.

She has a tongue piercing.

Noted again.

I clear my throat before I speak, trying to wipe off the look I have on my face quickly. "Fuck you," I laugh at her, shoving at her leg.

"Tell me something about you," she says softly as she picks at the grass between us.

I take a moment to think, realizing that she literally knows nothing personal about me, except where I work. What would I want to tell her as the first thing? This suddenly feels like a lot of pressure, even though I know it's not that serious and I'm just overthinking. I mull over my options, my favorite color isn't going to keep the conversation going, and I know I don't want this to end any time soon.

"Um, well I lived in England until I was eleven," I begin, clearing my throat. "It's, uh, really rainy there, but beautiful. It's lot more gray there though. My accent's faded over the years, I kind of miss it."

She laughs again at that. "It's still very much there, don't worry."

"One year, my mum and my sister took me to a restaurant that was sat in the middle of a rose garden for my birthday. It's one of my favorite memories of home. That's what I miss," I add, staring at her hand between us that's created a small pile of grass.