Read Online Shattered Soul by Jennifer Snyder - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jennifer Snyder
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heaping bowl.
I touched the cool glass to my lips and flicked my
lighter. A sizzling filled my ears as the weed burned and the
smoke, bursting with THC, clouded my lungs. I passed the bowl and
exhaled a mushroom cloud of smoke, which left a fresh green taste
in my mouth. It was definitely not what I’d sold him.
“That’s some good shit, man,” I complimented.
“Right?” He exhaled and passed it back to me. “It’s
floatin’ around, but the price is pretty steep.”
I nodded and took another hit.
We stood at the side of the house holding a typical
chit-chat conversation as we continued to pass the bowl back and
forth. It wasn’t long before someone sniffed us out with high hopes
of joining in.
“What’s up? You guys over here holding out on me?”
Matt Hinson, a short, skinny guy with a mop of dark, curly hair
asked.
My gaze shifted to Joe. A smile twitched at the
corners of my mouth, Joe didn’t seem too happy to see Matt. I tried
not to smirk as reasons why filled my head. In the end I settled on
one, not a thought, but a fact. Matt Hinson was nothing but a free
loader. Something Joe obviously knew.
Matt walked to stand beside us, his eyes zeroing in
on the bowl, a goofy grin stretched across his face. Joe passed the
bowl to me without acknowledging Matt in the slightest. I hit it.
When I was done, Matt held out a hand for me to pass it to him. I
smiled and handed it back to Joe, it wasn’t my weed to decide who
got to smoke.
“I think it’s about beat, man. You good or you want
more?” Joe asked me, smacking his bowl in the palm of his hand to
empty it.
I shook my head. “Nah, I’m good.”
And I was, my mind felt fuzzy and I had the whole
fish-eye thing going, the distorted vision of being inside a glass
fish bowl.
“Cool,” Joe said shoving his bowl back into his
pocket.
“Awe come on, man,” Matt whined. “That’s messed
up.”
“No. What’s messed up is how you still owe me from
the last bag I fronted you and for the joint from the other day.”
Joe walked away.
I put my hands in my pockets and walked back towards
the front porch with him, leaving Matt standing in the dark. Trip
still sat perched up on the rail with Miranda beside him when we
came around front. They were lost in conversation.
The rest of the night went smoothly. Trip and Miranda
got quite cozy, though I doubted she’d remember how cozy come
Monday, but Trip certainly would. Sidney found some other guy to
bump and grind with, forgetting about me completely.
I only had a few complaints about the night. One
being my throbbing rib cage and face, a constant reminder of how my
night had started. And two, the simple fact Ali wasn’t beside me
enjoying the night, too.
Chapter Eight
I spent my entire Sunday at Trip’s house, hiding out
in his room from his parents. Which was fine with me, I spent the
majority of the day sleeping. I finally made myself start home
around ten that night.
The car sat in the driveway. I cringed inside as soon
as I saw it, my hopes of Calvin not being home deflating inside of
me like a popped balloon. I sauntered towards the front door,
grateful for the porch light being off, and stood in the safety of
the darkness, gathering my nerve to open the door.
Finally, I took in one last deep breath and turned
the knob.
The living room light blinded me while my eyes
adjusted. A heavy smell of burning cigarettes filled my nose as I
closed the door behind me. I made a beeline towards the hall, head
down, my body cutting through the thick haze of smoke.
Calvin chuckled at me from where he sat on the couch.
I didn’t have to be looking at him to picture the shit-eating grin
smeared across his face. I made it down the hall, thankfully
without giving my brother even the tiniest bit of reason to come
after me. Once I got to my room, I locked the door behind me and
went straight for my tin box. I packed up my trusty bowl and
sprawled across my bed.
I woke the next morning to shouting
I touched the cool glass to my lips and flicked my
lighter. A sizzling filled my ears as the weed burned and the
smoke, bursting with THC, clouded my lungs. I passed the bowl and
exhaled a mushroom cloud of smoke, which left a fresh green taste
in my mouth. It was definitely not what I’d sold him.
“That’s some good shit, man,” I complimented.
“Right?” He exhaled and passed it back to me. “It’s
floatin’ around, but the price is pretty steep.”
I nodded and took another hit.
We stood at the side of the house holding a typical
chit-chat conversation as we continued to pass the bowl back and
forth. It wasn’t long before someone sniffed us out with high hopes
of joining in.
“What’s up? You guys over here holding out on me?”
Matt Hinson, a short, skinny guy with a mop of dark, curly hair
asked.
My gaze shifted to Joe. A smile twitched at the
corners of my mouth, Joe didn’t seem too happy to see Matt. I tried
not to smirk as reasons why filled my head. In the end I settled on
one, not a thought, but a fact. Matt Hinson was nothing but a free
loader. Something Joe obviously knew.
Matt walked to stand beside us, his eyes zeroing in
on the bowl, a goofy grin stretched across his face. Joe passed the
bowl to me without acknowledging Matt in the slightest. I hit it.
When I was done, Matt held out a hand for me to pass it to him. I
smiled and handed it back to Joe, it wasn’t my weed to decide who
got to smoke.
“I think it’s about beat, man. You good or you want
more?” Joe asked me, smacking his bowl in the palm of his hand to
empty it.
I shook my head. “Nah, I’m good.”
And I was, my mind felt fuzzy and I had the whole
fish-eye thing going, the distorted vision of being inside a glass
fish bowl.
“Cool,” Joe said shoving his bowl back into his
pocket.
“Awe come on, man,” Matt whined. “That’s messed
up.”
“No. What’s messed up is how you still owe me from
the last bag I fronted you and for the joint from the other day.”
Joe walked away.
I put my hands in my pockets and walked back towards
the front porch with him, leaving Matt standing in the dark. Trip
still sat perched up on the rail with Miranda beside him when we
came around front. They were lost in conversation.
The rest of the night went smoothly. Trip and Miranda
got quite cozy, though I doubted she’d remember how cozy come
Monday, but Trip certainly would. Sidney found some other guy to
bump and grind with, forgetting about me completely.
I only had a few complaints about the night. One
being my throbbing rib cage and face, a constant reminder of how my
night had started. And two, the simple fact Ali wasn’t beside me
enjoying the night, too.
Chapter Eight
I spent my entire Sunday at Trip’s house, hiding out
in his room from his parents. Which was fine with me, I spent the
majority of the day sleeping. I finally made myself start home
around ten that night.
The car sat in the driveway. I cringed inside as soon
as I saw it, my hopes of Calvin not being home deflating inside of
me like a popped balloon. I sauntered towards the front door,
grateful for the porch light being off, and stood in the safety of
the darkness, gathering my nerve to open the door.
Finally, I took in one last deep breath and turned
the knob.
The living room light blinded me while my eyes
adjusted. A heavy smell of burning cigarettes filled my nose as I
closed the door behind me. I made a beeline towards the hall, head
down, my body cutting through the thick haze of smoke.
Calvin chuckled at me from where he sat on the couch.
I didn’t have to be looking at him to picture the shit-eating grin
smeared across his face. I made it down the hall, thankfully
without giving my brother even the tiniest bit of reason to come
after me. Once I got to my room, I locked the door behind me and
went straight for my tin box. I packed up my trusty bowl and
sprawled across my bed.
I woke the next morning to shouting