Content warning: drug use
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On Sunday, at ten in the morning, I get a text message. It is a picture of my pillowcase of candy and his message reads "If you wanna see your candy alive again you'll have to come get it."
My response: "Good thing I don't like candy that much." and then after a few moments I send another, "I can be there in a half-an-hour."
That got me a smiley face.
I get out of bed and get ready as quick as I can. When I get out of the shower, I look at my reflection in the mirror and I debate the usual debate on whether I should keep my curly hair down or pull it into a ponytail. Like usual, I go with the latter option and try not to look at myself anymore. I tell my mother that I am going to Mads' house for a little while and even though she complains about me leaving she lets me go. I know I should not lie to her, but I know she would not have been okay with me going and as of now there is no reason to tell her the truth. I want to keep this little friendship thing we have going just to myself for a while longer.
At Brendon's house, I sit outside in my car for a good five minutes so that I can work my confidence up enough to even knock on the door. After talking myself out of starting my car and leaving again, I climb out of my car and make my way up to the front door. As my heart beats heavy in my chest, I ring the doorbell.
He opens the door after a few moments and I am reassured by the happiness I can see on his face. With a sweep of his arm toward the inside of his house, he steps to the side and lets me enter. After he closes the door, he turns to me and asks me if I am okay with going to his room, but reassures that we can stay downstairs if I am more comfortable with that. I agree to go to his room.
We walk up the stairs together and he asks about how the rest of my Halloween went. I tell him about watching Halloween themed movies and eating candy with my friends. That reminds him of the candy I have come to 'rescue.' He motions to my bag that is sitting on his night stand in when we enter the room. He tells me about how he 'guarded it with his life' the entire night after I left it behind. I thank him for his gallant protection as I plop down on his desk chair.
He has music playing and I recognize the band playing. It is one of my favorites: Twenty-One Pilots. I comment on the song and that leads us to a conversation about music that goes on longer than I would have expected and spans across so many topics that I am amazed I was able to coherently participate in it. Usually, having conversations with me, especially when I am out of my element like I am in his room, means listening to me stumble over words and attempt to make sense of what is going on in my head. Needless to say, it is hard for everyone.
I attribute part of my success to the subject matter. Music is something that I am always ready to talk about and something that I really love. It is one of the most important things to me and about me. Another reason for the success: I find that though it may be a slow process, I am becoming more comfortable with him. The jury is still out on how I feel about that.
It has been nearly an hour and a half when there is a knock on the door. He gets up from his bed and pads down the stairs to see who it is. From his room, I can hear what sounds like Cal's voice. They both make their way back up to the room and when they enter, Cal excitedly calls my name. I smile and greet him, and I wonder if maybe it is time for me to leave. They both sit on his bed as I stay seated in his desk chair.
They start up a little conversation amongst themselves and I do not try to enter into it. I check my phone a few times and then my watch redundantly, but I do not know how to say I am going to leave. I avoid looking at Brendon because it somehow feels weird doing it when someone else is here. I curse myself for not being able to be comfortable.
"Laina, do wanna go with us?" Brendon asks, when I look confused because I was not listening to what they were talking about, he continues, "To the field behind the park."
"Oh, yeah, okay." I respond quickly.
He smiles at me and I think he might actually be really happy that I am going.
We all get up from our seats and make our way out of the house and onto the street. The park is not far from his house. Just a couple suburban blocks and then the playset comes into view. Cal runs ahead of us, he goes up a slide the wrong way, turns and yells 'parkour' at us before jumping and doing some other average maneuvers. We both laugh as we walk to catch up to him.
"Where's your family by the way?"
"I'm not sure where my brother is today, but my parents are spending the day with some of their friends." He tells me and then continues, "I know it's weird, parents actually have lives."
I laugh because it is funny, but also to give me a chance to think of a response. What I come up with is, "Yeah, it's wild."
By that time we have reached the playset as well so Cal jumps down and joins us again as we keep walking. Cal mentions something that he, Cooper, and Brendon used to do at the park when they were younger. That launches them in a series of reminiscent stories. Some I remember Cooper telling me about, but most of them are new to my ears.
Once we have left the park area, the grass gets a little higher and the color fades from the green of the city watered grass to golden brown. We go further in comfortable quiet until the grass kind of looks like wheat. I let my hands run over the soft tops of the grass while I look over at Brendon. The sun is shining off of his light brown hair and I feel like I am in a sappy romance movie. It is ridiculous.
There is a clearing where the grass is not at our waist and instead reaches to about the ankle. That is where Cal stops and turns around as he reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a blunt and raises his eyebrow at Brendon in a question. Brendon smiles and nods, but then looks over at me.
"You wanna?" He offers.
I shake my head, politely declining.
"Are you okay with us smoking?" He asks.
"Yeah of course. Go for it." I say nonchalantly, but I am happy that he even asked if I was comfortable with it.
He turns back to Cal who has lowered himself onto the ground and is lighting the blunt. Brendon sinks to the ground near him as he takes it from Cal who falls onto his back. As Brendon takes a drag, he crosses his legs and pulls his knees up closer to his chest as he rests his arm across them. When he is done, he hands it back to Cal and then looks up at me. I am still standing next to them feeling a little out of place again.
He raises his hand up to me, "Come sit down with us?" He phrases it more like a question rather than a request.
I gently touch his hand and let him pull me down next to him. I mirror his position and rest my arms on my knees. With my head resting against my arms, I look over at him and smile back at him. One side of his mouth pulls up into a half smile, and then he reaches back to take the blunt from Cal again.
I watch him smoke and I am entranced with a weird mixture of intrigue and aversion. My father smokes cigarettes and I know all about the harmful affects of them, so cigarettes represent a whole lot of bad for me. A blunt is not much different, except it has all the attraction that comes with oral fixations and it is not quite as bad as its cigarette counterpart. I watch as he holds it between his index and middle knuckles and brings it up to his lips that gently close around it so that he can take a long drag. He keeps his mouth closed as he gives it back to Cal once more. Then, he tilts his head up toward the sky and gently blows the smoke above him. Once he is done, he looks over at me.
"Sorry, I don't know any tricks." He laughs and I can see that his head swimming with the high that just hit him.
"Laaame," I drawl jokingly.
He puts hand to his chest in mock offense and then breaks into laughter. I find myself laughing too, but it is more like I am laughing at him rather than with him. I can tell by the slowed down and delayed pace of his movements that the high is getting him. Cal is feeling it too, and he pops up between the two of us so that he can throw his arms around our shoulders. He tells us that he loves us with a squeeze, and honestly Cal is someone who is not much different whether he is under the influence or not. He is always a big, goofy, kid that loves affection. Moments later, he turns onto his back and lays between Brendon and me so that he can look at the both of us.
"You guys are great," he grins between the two of us, then focuses on me, "Laina, I'm sorry I hated you so much and was a dick to you in elementary school. I love you man." He pats my knee clumsily.
"I know Cal, you were just a little jealous that I was with your best friend. At least we're good now."
He smiles at nothing in particular and nods his head happily. Then says, "remember when you had the sex dream about me in middle school."
Beside me, Brendon exclaims in disbelief and laughs. "Wait what, I have never heard this before."
"Oh my gosh! Cal, it wasn't a sex dream," I demand, and then quieter, "I just dreamed about Cal being a stripper and then Alessa showed up and started throwing money. I didn't see anything I have never seen before. I never even touched him so you cannot classify it as a sex dream."
Brendon looks at me with amusement for a while and then breaks out into laughter, "Beautiful, Laina, beautiful."
I roll my eyes but find myself laughing a little bit anyway.
It is a little while before anyone says anything again, and surprisingly enough it is me who breaks the silence. "I've never been out here before."
Brendon looks over at me, Cal's eyes stay closed as he passes the almost finished blunt up to Brendon. "Really?" Brendon questions.
"Yup, never. I have always heard about it and seen people's Instagram posts of them out here over in that cement place, the one with the graffiti."
"It's really cool, you're missing out." He tells me as he taps Cal's hand gently and puts the blunt in his hand. Then he lays back and stares at the sky.
After a few moments, he reaches up to tap my shoulder and motions for me to lay back as well. We spend a long time staring at the sky and making shapes out of clouds. I almost feel like I belong.
When I get home a little bit after that, my father is in a bad mood. I want to immediately turn right back around and leave, but I cannot. I retreat to my bedroom instead. I curl up on my bed. I think about Brendon and how nice it had been to spend time with him and Cal. I can hear my father yelling downstairs and my heartbeat picks up with anxiety. Before long, I am grabbing my ipod and shoving the earphones into my ears. Turning it up until I cannot hear myself think, I eventually fade off into sleep.
In my dreams, Brendon is holding me. I am lying on his bed and he has his face buried in my neck. My hands are in his hair and my breath is short but in a good way. I can feel his fingertips on my skin and the sensitive spark that they ignite. His lips graze my skin and then they press against my ear. My body shivers as he whispers sweet nothings. When I wake up my body is hot and I can barely think about him without blushing.
At school during lunch, I sit down at the table and I do not really engage in any conversation. Ray is taking pictures of and selfies with everyone so everybody is pretty occupied. Videos are being taken and Snapchats are being opened. The table is pretty lively. I am happy to blend into the background and smile at the fun everyone is having.
At some point, Brendon sits down next to me, but I do not notice until I hear his voice in my ear. "You know you still never took your candy back home."
I jump and feel a flash run over my body. I do my best to control my heart that has skipped a few beats and turn to flash him the best smile I can muster. "I really am going to have to eventually get that back, because my mom is gonna want her pillow case."
He laughs, but does not say much more. After a few moments, someone catches his attention and he is laughing and talking with them. He stays sitting next to me though, and I am secretly so happy that he is staying. Eventually, Ray trains his camera on Brendon and I so I do my best to look pretty and Brendon slings his arm around my shoulder. My heart races and I just know you can see it on my face. He does not show me the picture, instead he texts it to me later. Brendon's arm lingers as he gives me a couple of friendly squeezes and flashes me an endearing smile. I cannot stop thinking about my dream. Even when he lets his arm drop from my shoulders.
As lunch comes to an end, he turns his attention to me and asks, "Do you wanna go get some food?"
I want to immediately agree, but then I remember that I have to take Alessa home. I tell him I have to give her a ride and he says he can wait or she can come with us. I feel the immediate sting of shame as I think about wanting to leave her out. I want to have something that is just mine like she does. I want to be more than just a detachable part of her. He waits patiently as I try to think it through. The bell rings and as I turn to Alessa. She beats me to the punch, though, and tells me she is going to eat with Jon. I wonder if she went through the same thought process that I went through or if she did not even care enough to do that.
I turn to Brendon and he is smiling and holding my binder out to me, "is that a yes then?"
I smile, trying to ignore the sick feeling in my stomach, and nod. I fall into step next to him as I hug my binder to my chest. I know he can tell my mood has shifted and I do not want to make him uncomfortable, but I just cannot help it. Was I ready to do the same thing she has done to me time and time again? I did not have to decide, but what kind of person would be, what kind of friend? Was I just trying to get back at her? If I chose to leave her behind, would it have been because I really wanted to or because I wanted to get back at her doing it to me? It is just too much to think about.
Brendon gently bumps into my side, "You okay Laina?" I can tell he is trying to keep his tone light and I hate that he is already tip-toeing around my mood this early in our rekindled friendship.
I tell myself to pull my shit together, "Yeah, yeah, sorry, no I'm good."
He nods and does not prod me any further. "Okay, well then, how do you wanna do this? We've both got cars."
"You're right. Well, I don't have a problem driving so we could drop your car off at your house."
"Yeah, but I actually kind of wanted to drive. So I can follow you to your house to drop yours off," he says.
I want to agree and then I think about the questions my mother would have, so I reply, "How about, I drop my car off at yours? My mom's gonna ask a bunch of questions if I go home. If that is okay with you, of course."
"No problem at all, I understand," he assures with a big smile.
After I park my car outside of his house, I climb into his Jeep. It is old , but it still is not as old as mine. It reminds me of my aunt's new Jeep with a fucking dragon decal on the side. I am more comfortable in the car than I thought I would be. Jeeps have always left a bad taste in my mouth, whether it be the crappy decal my aunt has or the constant association I have made in my head between them and white people shouting things from them.
We bounce food ideas off one another, and, eventually, we end up at a Mexican food place. I have no complaints, I am always down for some good Mexican food. Eating with him feels like it should be weird, but I feel more comfortable than expected. It is turning into a pattern with him. We make some small talk and then we actually start talking. Time passes by as we eat, but of course he notices just how quickly I finish eating and the fact that he does not even notice when I took a bite. I push away the normal self-conscious feelings I get when someone makes a comment and I instead tell him the story of why.
I tell him about being a little kid and one day realizing that the adult menus had much better options than the kids menu. Whenever I asked to get something from the adult menu, though, my parents would always deny me because they said I would not finish my food. So, I made the decision that no matter what, I would get to the adult menu. I started eating more, and faster so that I could clear more of the plate before getting full. One night, when we were at a restaurant I finally convinced my parents to let me get an adult meal. I blew everyone away when I finish just about everything on the plate. It was enough though, after that I could order whatever I wanted.
My story gets him laughing and I am happy that I am the one to make him do it. He keeps the ball rolling with his own childhood stories. Some of them I, in part, know about, but most of them are new to my ears. I love listening to him and talking to him. It makes me feel like a person outside of Alessa. Something I have been craving for a long time. I feel like
even my friends are not actually my friends. They were hers before they met me, they are hers now, and they will be hers in the future when they eventually get tired of me.
It is almost like he can read my mind, as I think about Alessa. He asks me, "I thought you and Alessa did everything together?"
I cannot help the bitter expression that flits across my face and I know he sees it, before I can stow it away once more. "Well I do everything with Alessa, but she does not do everything with me. At least not anymore."
"You're not doing this with her," he offers.
"Yeah, you're right," I agree, and I know he can hear that I am upset.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you sad."
"No, you're fine. I'm being dumb," I apologize.
"If it upsets you, it's not dumb," he says.
"Thank you. I'm just having a hard time." He nods, but says little else. Eventually, I ask him, "How do you, Cooper, and Calvin stay so close? How do you guys meet new people and make new friends and not feel like you're replacing each other?"
His brows furrow as he thinks about my question, "I don't know, we just kind of do. No one ever really makes it feel like anyone else is left out. My friends are theirs and theirs are mine, if we don't like someone it doesn't affect our personal relationships with each other. I do not think there is really a formula, you know what I mean?" He finishes.
I nod and focus my attention on my empty plate. "You're lucky it is so easy."
He laughs as we both know it is time to move on from the subject. Soon after, we leave and I end up at his house again. We sit in his room and watch a couple of movies in comfortable quietness, but not silence. Both of us make comments and crack jokes. Both of us double over laughing and struggle to catch our breath with joy splitting our lips into smiles. I do not have the weird sick feeling that I usually do with people and it is even more surprising considering the dream I had with him.
At some point, after our laughter dies down and he rolls off his side and onto his back next to me, he looks up at me and asks me if he can ask me a question. My immediate reaction is anxiety just like any other time someone asks me that question. I agree, nonetheless, and remind myself that my reaction is not a normal person's and I need to get my shit together. He puts his hand out and gently touches my arm, as he says it is not anything bad and that I should relax. I give him a rueful smile at his acknowledgement of seeing my panicked reaction.
"I was just wondering if you've ever smoked."
I breathe out a puff of air, "Oh, it's just that. No not really. My sister smokes a lot of weed and I have been with her when she does, I have just never really done it too."
He nods slowly, and then asks another question, "Do you just not want to, or is there like a reason behind it?"
I think about it for a moment. I do not necessarily have anything against marijuana. Sometimes I do want to try it, just to see if it is as great as my sister thinks it is or if I am any different. I have heard it helps anxiety, but I also know that paranoia is a common side effect so I do not think that it is actually much help. Finally, I answer, "I don't have a problem with it really. I just don't think it has ever been offered to me at the right time, but I don't know, maybe one day I'll try it."
He smiles and nods with understanding, "Well, if you ever decide it's the right time. I'm always available."
"Is that because you're a pothead?" I tease.
He laughs and then continues, "I resent that."
"Do you really?"
"No not actually, but at least I am not as bad a Cal, alright." He concedes.
"Fine, that is true. But I feel like that still doesn't say much about you." I joke.
He slides up from his back to rest upright against the pillows next to me. "Well I guess I am good enough to hangout with you, at least."
"I don't know if that is a compliment either, to be honest." I say.
He looks over at me and there a joking smile on his face but his voice comes out with sincerity, "It is to me. You've always been one of the best people I have known."
I do my best to breathe properly and avert my eyes as I feel heat rise into my face. I think about the fact that, no, we are not really strangers. We are just old friends, finding each other as different people than we used to be. It makes me happy. I have this strange feeling of mine. It shocks me, because the last person I felt that for was Alessa. Then it hurts, because I am not sure if I can call her that anymore.
"Thank you, Brendon." I finally look back over at him.
His mouth quirks up a little bit, as he nods at me. I bite my lip to keep the smile off of my face. The moment passes, and we focus back on the movie at hand. We finish it with little other eventful happenings and this time when I go home, I take my candy with me. He does, however, mention the fact that I still have his beanie. I tell him that I will give it back when I am good and ready.
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Soooo how are you guys liking it? Do feel a connection with the characters? Do you hate it?
Please please please give me some feedback!
Much love -Lyse<3