retrograde.

;two

"I know you get hot in that goddamn shirt everyday." I comment, staring at Blake.

He took it upon himself to roll another joint, put it in his mouth, and lit it. As he exhaled the smoke, he passed it to Reed.

"Of course I do." He said. "But it's work rules. Can't risk exposing —" He used air quotes next, "bad things to children."

Reed scrunched his face up at Blake. "Dude, I've seen all of your tattoos. I don't see how any of them pose a risk to a child's development."

I turned to face Blake and tell him, "I lost all my respect for you when you got that butterfly tatted on your stomach, just so you know."

Blake grabbed one of my cinnamon wheels and took a bite from it. "That's because you don't understand the symbolic meaning behind butterflies." He took the blunt back from Eli, took a drag, and exhaled smoke before speaking again.

"Butterflies represent transformation. New life. Change. You assholes wouldn't understand anything about that."

Reed grabbed one of the pillows he was laying on and threw it at Blake. "Shut up, you pothead."

**

"I'm thinking about writing a TV show pilot and selling it to Hollywood. " Blake said, stuffing a Dorito in his mouth. "Get this — Middle aged man, high school chemistry teacher, diagnosed with inoperable lung cancer, three years left to live even with chemo. He has a teenage son, and a wife who's pregnant with their next child. He partners with a former student of his, and they make pure meth out of an RV and build one of the largest drug empires in the world."

We all stare at Blake like the idiot he is.

"You mean Breaking Bad, moron?" Eli asked bluntly.

"Yeah." Blake nodded. "That's what I want to name it."

Reed, Eli, and I all exchange looks. This is typical Blake when he's high. Any other time when he's not on cloud nine, he behaves like he has a functioning brain. And he should because he's an honor student. Blake's the oldest out of all of us, a senior, and he's getting ready to head off to college next year. He's got a full scholarship to NYU, where he plans to major in Film. Sometimes, he pitches us his ideas on what he wants to direct or write. And when I say sometimes, I mean when he's high. And often, these ideas of his are shows and movies that already exist. Last week, it was The Walking Dead, and the week before that was Westside Story. We have yet to hear something of his own creation.

"Breaking Bad already exists, dipshit." Reed tells him as he makes his way through his third bag of chips.

"Really?" Blake asks, his tone one of disheartening. "I tell you, writers these days can't come up with their own ideas."

I look at my phone and see that it's eight at night. Any other time I would be panicking right now, but these donuts I'm eating are absolute heaven that I can't even bring myself to be worried. Underneath the time, I see a message from Caden.

Caden
i know you're high as shit because you would have been in the house by now. mom and dad think you're already here but i need to know right now if you need me to pick you up before they notice

"Hey Eli," I say monotonously as I read the message.

"Caden's picking me up. You want a ride home?"

"I would appreciate it." He replies.

To: Caden
c an you take eli home too ?/??

Caden reads the message instantly and texts back.