Read Online Bottled Up by Jaye Murray - Free Book Online Page B

cigarette out of my pack and put it between my lips.
    I was waiting for her to tell me I couldn’t smoke. She didn’t say anything. I guess she knew I wasn’t going to light it.
    â€œSo what do you want, Pip?”
    â€œNothin’.”
    â€œMaybe you just don’t know what you want.”
    â€œMaybe you just don’t listen. I told you I want to get out of here.”
    â€œAre you committed to the counseling or not?”
    â€œI have no choice.”
    â€œYou have nothing but choices.”
    What I really wanted was a joint. If she let me light up right there, I could have stayed without giving too much of a crap. The whole thing was making my head spin.
    â€œSo let’s talk about the drug part.”
    How did she know what I was thinking?
    â€œMr. Giraldi said he thinks you have a pretty hefty habit—that that’s why you sleep in class and get into the trouble that you do.”
    â€œMaybe you should just talk to him. Sounds like you think he knows everything.”
    â€œWell, you’re not giving up much here. You tell me. How big is your habit?”
    â€œI don’t do drugs. I’m a health nut.”
    â€œRight, and herbs are an integral part of your diet.” She swiveled in the chair a few times. “If you can get honest from the beginning, we won’t have to waste a lot of time. We can get right to helping you out.”
    â€œYou think I’m lying?” I took the butt out of my mouth.
    â€œI can tell you’re stoned right now.” She said this with a straight face. “Your pupils are so dilated, I could throw a Frisbee through one eye and watch it fly out the other.”
    I pulled my lips into my mouth, trying real hard not to smile.
    â€œYou smell like a giant burning stick of reefer.”
    â€œHow do you know what reefer smells like?” I asked her.
    â€œAha,” she said with her eyebrows going up.
    â€œâ€˜Aha’ what?”
    â€œThat’s a trick question.”
    â€œYou ever smoke weed or not?”
    â€œIf I tell you I have, you’ll point to me and say, See? I can do it too. You turned out fine. If I say I never smoked it, you’ll tell me I don’t understand you.”
    I put my cigarette back in the pack. “I don’t really care anyway,” I said.
    â€œGood. I’d rather talk about you. Ever try to go a day without it?”
    â€œWithout what?”
    â€œCome on, Pip. I can smell the pot. Hell, the birds outside who got a whiff of you are still enjoying their buzz.”
    â€œIs my time up?”
    â€œAlmost. But if you’re going along with counseling, you need to be back tomorrow at four o’clock for group.”
    â€œWho’s in this group?”
    â€œFour guys, fifteen to seventeen years old.”
    â€œNo girls?”
    â€œI have a separate group for the girls. I don’t need you all distracting each other.”
    â€œWhat do you do in group?”
    â€œTalk—mostly about what they’re trying to change and what’s hard about doing it.”
    â€œSo what do they want?”
    â€œYou’ll have to ask them. ” She opened a desk drawer and pulled out a Dixie cup. “How about a urine sample?” she asked, handing me the cup.
    â€œNo, thanks. I just had a soda.”
    â€œThe bathroom is right next door.”
    â€œWhy do I have to do this?”
    â€œAnyone receiving counseling here is subject to periodic drug testing. It helps us obtain information that would otherwise be avoided or lied about.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œIf you don’t pee in the cup, you can’t come here.”
    I opened her office door and started to walk to the bathroom.
    â€œYou should get a clock in your office,” I told her. “So a guy knows how much time he has left to get tortured.”
    â€œYou could wear a watch,” she said.
    Bitch.
    I want to land my playing piece back on Go.
    You know, like