pleased with having chased the younger woman away from Trent. I turned back toward the blonde.
“Huh? Oh, she can’t back away from a fight.”
Annabelle nodded skeptically. An awkward silence fell between us. I wanted to ask about her dad, about her stepmom, but I knew I couldn’t. And she didn’t seem to have much to say either. She looked down at my nearly full drink.
“You don’t like it?”
I shrugged. “Not really in the mood for it.”
She reached into her bra and pulled out a joint. “You party?”
“Um sure,” I replied, though I was responding as much to the flash of cleavage as to the pot.
She grabbed an ember from the fire and lit the joint. She took a big pull and after a moment exhaled an impressive cloud of smoke. She passed me the cigarette. I hadn’t actually smoked pot in years. Not since… high school? College maybe? At the very least, not since Annabelle had gotten out of elementary school.
I inhaled deeply, held it a moment, and released. It hit me like a shot, a sudden, dizzying high the likes of which I’d never felt.
“Good shit, huh?”
I nodded, unable to form actual words. I tried to pass the joint over to Claire, but she just shook her head and pointed to her drink. She cast a hostile glare at Annabelle and gave me a small scowl. Was she pissed I was smoking pot? Or sitting next to her antagonist? I watched her giggling with Trent. Who was she to give me a hard time?
I shrugged, took another hit, and passed it back to Annabelle.
“Yeah,” I said as the words finally broke free.
She laughed. “Maui Wowie.”
She took another hit and passed it back to me. I didn’t really want more. Or need more. The world was already blurred and moving in slow motion. I took another toke and again passed it back. Everything took on a weird stop-motion aspect, like I was processing only snapshots at a time. But it was beautiful. Laughing, happy faces, individual strums of the guitars, a sky full of shooting stars.
“Let’s kill it,” Annabelle said.
I watched as she moved the joint to her full lips. Saw the tip of the cigarette flare excitedly, shrinking to a tiny, insignificant nub that she tossed into the fire. Then suddenly she reached out, took me by the back of the head and pulled me close. She kissed me hard, open mouthed. I could feel her soft lips, her wet tongue, the weird sensation of smoke being blown into my mouth as she exhaled. I felt another rush of warmth. What the hell was she doing? I tried to pull away, but my body was slow to respond. All the while, our tongues continued wrestling, intertwined. My lungs finally saved me, seizing suddenly, forcing me to expel the smoke and break the embrace. I coughed violently.
I heard Annabelle giggle. Better to not look at her, I thought. I shot a quick glance at Claire. Had she noticed? She was still half-turned toward Trent, locked in conversation. I breathed a sigh of relief. I would have thought the coughing would have caught her attention, but for the first time I was actually pleased that she was distracted.
Annabelle was saying something. I wanted to tell her off. But I didn’t really want to confront her. If I just ignored her, she’d leave me alone. And anyway, the fire was mesmerizing. All the colors of the rainbow dancing in the flames. I watched it attentively. Had they added something to make it so bright? And now the flames were coiling and curling like snakes. Was anyone else seeing this?
I looked back over at Claire. She was still talking with Trent. I looked toward Annabelle and jolted in surprise. A young, shirtless man, very buff, had joined her. I hadn’t even noticed him sit down. Was he one of the fire dancers? The music had stopped. People began to drift away. It was probably time to go, I thought, but my body seemed perfectly content to remain still.
I heard giggling, Claire’s high titter to my left, Annabelle’s low, throatier chortle to my right. I laughed as well. It really was time to go.
“Huh? Oh, she can’t back away from a fight.”
Annabelle nodded skeptically. An awkward silence fell between us. I wanted to ask about her dad, about her stepmom, but I knew I couldn’t. And she didn’t seem to have much to say either. She looked down at my nearly full drink.
“You don’t like it?”
I shrugged. “Not really in the mood for it.”
She reached into her bra and pulled out a joint. “You party?”
“Um sure,” I replied, though I was responding as much to the flash of cleavage as to the pot.
She grabbed an ember from the fire and lit the joint. She took a big pull and after a moment exhaled an impressive cloud of smoke. She passed me the cigarette. I hadn’t actually smoked pot in years. Not since… high school? College maybe? At the very least, not since Annabelle had gotten out of elementary school.
I inhaled deeply, held it a moment, and released. It hit me like a shot, a sudden, dizzying high the likes of which I’d never felt.
“Good shit, huh?”
I nodded, unable to form actual words. I tried to pass the joint over to Claire, but she just shook her head and pointed to her drink. She cast a hostile glare at Annabelle and gave me a small scowl. Was she pissed I was smoking pot? Or sitting next to her antagonist? I watched her giggling with Trent. Who was she to give me a hard time?
I shrugged, took another hit, and passed it back to Annabelle.
“Yeah,” I said as the words finally broke free.
She laughed. “Maui Wowie.”
She took another hit and passed it back to me. I didn’t really want more. Or need more. The world was already blurred and moving in slow motion. I took another toke and again passed it back. Everything took on a weird stop-motion aspect, like I was processing only snapshots at a time. But it was beautiful. Laughing, happy faces, individual strums of the guitars, a sky full of shooting stars.
“Let’s kill it,” Annabelle said.
I watched as she moved the joint to her full lips. Saw the tip of the cigarette flare excitedly, shrinking to a tiny, insignificant nub that she tossed into the fire. Then suddenly she reached out, took me by the back of the head and pulled me close. She kissed me hard, open mouthed. I could feel her soft lips, her wet tongue, the weird sensation of smoke being blown into my mouth as she exhaled. I felt another rush of warmth. What the hell was she doing? I tried to pull away, but my body was slow to respond. All the while, our tongues continued wrestling, intertwined. My lungs finally saved me, seizing suddenly, forcing me to expel the smoke and break the embrace. I coughed violently.
I heard Annabelle giggle. Better to not look at her, I thought. I shot a quick glance at Claire. Had she noticed? She was still half-turned toward Trent, locked in conversation. I breathed a sigh of relief. I would have thought the coughing would have caught her attention, but for the first time I was actually pleased that she was distracted.
Annabelle was saying something. I wanted to tell her off. But I didn’t really want to confront her. If I just ignored her, she’d leave me alone. And anyway, the fire was mesmerizing. All the colors of the rainbow dancing in the flames. I watched it attentively. Had they added something to make it so bright? And now the flames were coiling and curling like snakes. Was anyone else seeing this?
I looked back over at Claire. She was still talking with Trent. I looked toward Annabelle and jolted in surprise. A young, shirtless man, very buff, had joined her. I hadn’t even noticed him sit down. Was he one of the fire dancers? The music had stopped. People began to drift away. It was probably time to go, I thought, but my body seemed perfectly content to remain still.
I heard giggling, Claire’s high titter to my left, Annabelle’s low, throatier chortle to my right. I laughed as well. It really was time to go.
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