later.’
‘You got some joints?’
‘No. Nothing like that. Just fags.’
‘You don’t want to smoke them,’ sniggered Stevo. ‘They’ll kill you. Have a go at this.’
He took another pull and held out the joint. Bluish smoke billowed from its tip. Stevo could see Tom was unsure. He smiled, letting him know it was okay.
‘What is it?’ asked Tom. ‘… I mean, what’s in it?’
‘Just a bit of hash. Good stuff. Get you nice.’
‘I haven’t smoked it before. Much. Are you sure …?’
‘Just try it. If you don’t like it …’ Stevo laughed. ‘All the more for me, then, eh?’
Tom took the joint and put it to his lips, taking a timid drag. At that moment, it felt like every airway in his lungs had slammed firmly shut, scorched by the harshness of the burning cannabis. He coughed in an attempt to catch a breath, his eyes streaming.
‘Easy, mate,’ said Stevo, getting up to pat Tom on the back, amused as he watched him hack away. ‘It can be a bit like that first time. Bit rough. You’ll get used to it. Everyone does.’
Tom straightened himself and sucked in some fresh air. It took a minute before he was able to breathe normally.
‘Looks like you were enjoying that,’ said Stevo, a grin on his face.
‘It nearly killed me.’
‘Try it again.’
Tom put the joint back in his mouth and drew in the smoke. This time it tasted spicy and sweet, almost chocolaty. The next few pulls were easier on his lungs.
‘Steady on,’ piped up Stevo. ‘Leave some for me.’
Tom handed back the joint and Stevo stuck it in the corner of his mouth, letting it dangle there as he picked up the bags.
‘Let’s get going.’
Tom followed him. As the minutes passed, it seemed as if his view was expanding, taking in more that it should have been able to. Everything seemed clearer, colours more intense. The edges of the cars and houses lining the road seemed sharper. It felt like his whole body was gently vibrating, a hum running through his head. The pain in his nose and eye started to drift away as they walked on. Everything was getting uncomfortably bright.
‘I’m feeling really thirsty.’
Tom’s tongue was sticking to the roof of his mouth. It seemed too large, not fully in his control.
‘Dry mouth, eh?’ said Stevo. ‘I get that too. Usually comes on just before you lose your balance. You’ll be on the floor in a minute.’
He grinned as he watched the colour drain from Tom’s face, wondering if he was going to freak out.
‘Chill, man. I’m only joking. You’re a bit stoned, that’s all. We’ll be at mine in a minute. Get a drink and some food into you and you’ll be fine.’ Stevo smirked. ‘Good gear though, eh?’
‘I’m okay. I feel fine,’ Tom lied as he stumbled on. ‘I’m okay.’
His legs felt heavy. It was as if he was having to think about how to walk, his brain attempting to calculate every motion, making each step he took feel oddly unnatural.
‘Fuck. You’re so wasted, mate,’ said Stevo, laughing when he noticed the redness in Tom’s eyes. He nudged Tom’s shoulder, his voice happy and excited. ‘So am I!’
The way Stevo gleefully belted out the words made Tom giggle. Before he knew it, he was doubled over, his ribs aching as they squeezed the laughter out of him. For a moment he felt incredibly joyful. Like nothing mattered. He wanted the feeling to last forever.
‘I’m wasted,’ he said, getting his breath back. Exaggerating each syllable, he rolled the word around in his mouth: ‘Wa-sted.’
They shambled on, turning off the street onto a smaller, tree-lined road. Stevo pointed towards a tidy white house that stood centrally at the end of the cul–de-sac. The house was set back from the road behind a fenced patch of front garden. A red tarmac driveway ran up to an attached single-storey garage. Tom followed Stevo to the front door.
‘Mum!’ shouted Stevo as he opened it and stepped inside.
He ushered Tom into the bright hallway. The white
‘You got some joints?’
‘No. Nothing like that. Just fags.’
‘You don’t want to smoke them,’ sniggered Stevo. ‘They’ll kill you. Have a go at this.’
He took another pull and held out the joint. Bluish smoke billowed from its tip. Stevo could see Tom was unsure. He smiled, letting him know it was okay.
‘What is it?’ asked Tom. ‘… I mean, what’s in it?’
‘Just a bit of hash. Good stuff. Get you nice.’
‘I haven’t smoked it before. Much. Are you sure …?’
‘Just try it. If you don’t like it …’ Stevo laughed. ‘All the more for me, then, eh?’
Tom took the joint and put it to his lips, taking a timid drag. At that moment, it felt like every airway in his lungs had slammed firmly shut, scorched by the harshness of the burning cannabis. He coughed in an attempt to catch a breath, his eyes streaming.
‘Easy, mate,’ said Stevo, getting up to pat Tom on the back, amused as he watched him hack away. ‘It can be a bit like that first time. Bit rough. You’ll get used to it. Everyone does.’
Tom straightened himself and sucked in some fresh air. It took a minute before he was able to breathe normally.
‘Looks like you were enjoying that,’ said Stevo, a grin on his face.
‘It nearly killed me.’
‘Try it again.’
Tom put the joint back in his mouth and drew in the smoke. This time it tasted spicy and sweet, almost chocolaty. The next few pulls were easier on his lungs.
‘Steady on,’ piped up Stevo. ‘Leave some for me.’
Tom handed back the joint and Stevo stuck it in the corner of his mouth, letting it dangle there as he picked up the bags.
‘Let’s get going.’
Tom followed him. As the minutes passed, it seemed as if his view was expanding, taking in more that it should have been able to. Everything seemed clearer, colours more intense. The edges of the cars and houses lining the road seemed sharper. It felt like his whole body was gently vibrating, a hum running through his head. The pain in his nose and eye started to drift away as they walked on. Everything was getting uncomfortably bright.
‘I’m feeling really thirsty.’
Tom’s tongue was sticking to the roof of his mouth. It seemed too large, not fully in his control.
‘Dry mouth, eh?’ said Stevo. ‘I get that too. Usually comes on just before you lose your balance. You’ll be on the floor in a minute.’
He grinned as he watched the colour drain from Tom’s face, wondering if he was going to freak out.
‘Chill, man. I’m only joking. You’re a bit stoned, that’s all. We’ll be at mine in a minute. Get a drink and some food into you and you’ll be fine.’ Stevo smirked. ‘Good gear though, eh?’
‘I’m okay. I feel fine,’ Tom lied as he stumbled on. ‘I’m okay.’
His legs felt heavy. It was as if he was having to think about how to walk, his brain attempting to calculate every motion, making each step he took feel oddly unnatural.
‘Fuck. You’re so wasted, mate,’ said Stevo, laughing when he noticed the redness in Tom’s eyes. He nudged Tom’s shoulder, his voice happy and excited. ‘So am I!’
The way Stevo gleefully belted out the words made Tom giggle. Before he knew it, he was doubled over, his ribs aching as they squeezed the laughter out of him. For a moment he felt incredibly joyful. Like nothing mattered. He wanted the feeling to last forever.
‘I’m wasted,’ he said, getting his breath back. Exaggerating each syllable, he rolled the word around in his mouth: ‘Wa-sted.’
They shambled on, turning off the street onto a smaller, tree-lined road. Stevo pointed towards a tidy white house that stood centrally at the end of the cul–de-sac. The house was set back from the road behind a fenced patch of front garden. A red tarmac driveway ran up to an attached single-storey garage. Tom followed Stevo to the front door.
‘Mum!’ shouted Stevo as he opened it and stepped inside.
He ushered Tom into the bright hallway. The white
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