Oh My...

45.) Get Bent

"I love weed." Lindsay claimed as she picked up a nug from her bag of cannabis. Her finger gently glided over the purple frost of the small green leaves.

"I do, too." I agreed as I picked up the pink palm sized grinder Lindsay brought. On the top of it, there was a scripted L with a floral pattern dancing around the edges.

"No, but I really love it. I love how it looks, and smells, and feels..." She inspected a little forrest of orange tangles that spread out over the nug. "Weed is some holy shit, yo."

"It smells really strong..." Bree muttered, her nose wrinkling slightly. She was standing in the kitchen while Lindsay and I stationed ourselves on the couch in the living room; all of Lindsay's weed toys and paraphernalia scattered on the coffee table in front of us. "I can smell it from the fridge." She added, gazing at the plant in Lindsay's hand intently, like she was expecting it to start moving.

Lindsay began to crackle as she piled weed onto a scale. "That's what we call dank."

I turned my head to look at Bree, a puzzled crease forming between my eyebrows. "You told me you smoke."

"I-I do," she quickly stammered. "But..uh..." 

"You've never smoked, have you?" 

Lindsay's head perked up. "Do we have a weed virgin?!" She squealed, grinning at Bree with excitement. "Oh my God, we're about to get you high as shit." 

"I'm not a weed virgin." Bree hissed, crossing her arms over her chest as her cheeks dusted with blush. "I've smoked before. I just don't do it often." 

"Really? You seemed pretty shocked by the smell." I countered, a sly smile spreading on my lips as I turned the grinder's lid open. "And you're staring at it like it's uranium." 

"Bitch, what?" Lindsay rose her head to stare at me with a cocked eyebrow. "Uranium? Why would you-..? You're so fuckin' weird." 

"I'm fuckin' descriptive!" I snapped. "Leave me and my big words the hell alone." 

The stove beeped, signaling the pizzas were done. Bree wrapped her hand in cloth before opening the oven door and taking out the tray of pizzas. Instantly, an amazing aroma filled the entire house, making my mouth water in delight. My stomach clenched, and for the first time in a long time, I felt hungry. 

"Mmmm," Lindsay hummed as she put the weed in a plastic sandwich bag and gave it to me. "Three and a half Gs, my friend." 

"Thanks, my drug dealer." 

Lindsay punched my shoulder. "Is that all I am to you?!" She playfully cried, acting hurt. 

Suddenly, the phone on the wall started ringing. Lindsay glared at me suspiciously. "Are you cheating on me with another drug dealer?" 

"Didn't want you to find out like this." I replied, standing up and walking to the phone. "What can I say? You're not satisfying me." 

I answered the phone, still stifling back giggles. "Hello?" 

"Alex?" It was Marshall, and he sounded flustered. "Can I come over?" 

"What's wrong?" I asked, my smile falling off my face immediately. "Are you okay?" 

"No, I'm not fucking okay. I'm fuming." Marshall's voice cracked in the middle of his growl. "Look, I need to talk to you. Can I come over?" 

For a moment, I was worried that I did something wrong. I tried to backtrack the last time we hung out and identify if I did anything bad that Marshall might be mad about. I haven't touched pills, and lately I've been hesitant about drinking, too. Unless I did something I have no recollection of, there's no way he could be pissed at me.