Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 101796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
“You don’t have to hold it for long,” I explain on the exhale. “And it probably won’t take much for you to feel it. You should sit down.” Since all I need is for her to fall on her ass—or worse, on her face.
“You really think this will help me?” she asks, skeptical, but she sits down. This is progress.
“I really do, but you need to give it a chance.” After taking another hit from the joint, I pass it to her. “Don’t take a lot. Go slow. Tiny hits.”
She looks absolutely terrified but goes for it, and her face twists in discomfort before she coughs up a cloud of smoke.
“I said tiny hits!”
“I don’t know what that means,” she argues before coughing again. “Oh, that sucks.”
“Here. I’ll make it easier.” I crook a finger, inviting her to come closer, then take a hit, which I shotgun into her mouth. It’s hardly anything, but this time she takes it without coughing up a lung.
“That was better,” she agrees. “When will I feel it?”
“I’ll give you one more, then go inside and get you some water. You’re going to need it,” I warn before taking a hit and leaning in, touching my lips to hers and blowing smoke into her mouth. There’s something really intimate about it, but something tells me she’s too busy trying to handle things to think about anything else.
After bringing out water, I sit back in the lounge chair next to hers. “This is much better than what I smoked at Kellan’s,” I tell her with a satisfied groan.
“I think I’m feeling something. I mean… warm and loose all over.”
“That’s good. That’s how you’re supposed to feel.”
“I like it.” She’s even smiling when she tilts her head back so the late afternoon sun can hit her face. I wish everybody could see her the way I’m starting to see her. There’s more to her than what she shows the world.
Her eyes open, and she turns her head my way. “So, was this the plan? Getting me high, forcing me to relax?”
She’s almost got it.
“Close. I think it’s time you conquer what’s been holding you back. That means showing yourself you’re strong enough to face your shit and proving to yourself you can get through it. You don’t have to let it rule you.”
Slowly, she turns her head to look at the pool. “I’m a little fucked up right now, but I think I know why we’re out here.”
“I’m right here with you. We can go in the shallow end,” I suggest. “It’s, like, four feet when you first step in down there. You could stay with your feet flat on the bottom and the water won’t be anywhere near your head.”
“I really don’t like this idea.”
“Only because people have only ever been assholes to you when you’re in a pool,” I reply. Is that true? I’m not a doctor, I don’t know. But it sounds good. “I want you to feel better, and I want to help you. Let’s try, at least. If it’s too scary, we can stop, but at least try.”
When she still sits there, silent, keeping me waiting, something inside me hardens. “Or you can let those fuckers ruin your life. It’s up to you.”
“Okay, okay, enough with the psychology stuff.” With a heavy sigh, she kicks off her sneakers. “Let’s get it over with before I lose my nerve.”
Not exactly positive, but I’ll take it.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Elliana
I hate this. I hate him, and I hate this. Even with the weed helping me feel looser, I want to scream. How do I let him talk me into things?
“I don’t have a bathing suit.” It seems pretty obvious, but I feel like I need to remind him.
“What’s wrong with your underwear? Or you could just take it off and skinny dip.” His eyebrows wiggle up and down.
Is this the paranoia I’ve always heard about when it comes to smoking weed? Because the idea of being out here, naked, shoves my heart up into my throat. “I don’t think so.”
And really, I don’t know if I could get my underwear off without falling over. I’m too unsteady, fumbling with the simple act of pulling my sweater over my head. I guess it’s not so bad being out here in a bra and panties—I’m still more covered than some girls are in their bathing suits.
Suddenly, the pool looks a lot bigger than it did before. I slow down, taking my time now, since I’m not in any hurry to get in the water. I can hear them in my head, all of them, along with the splashing as I struggled. Why do I want to do this now?
“Stalling for time?” As usual, the smug bastard doesn’t bother hiding his smugness. He stands at the end of the pool, already stripped down to his tight boxer briefs. Heat uncoils in my core and starts to spread—this is not the time for that. It must be the weed.