Page 16 of Pride High 3: Yellow
“Nope. I uh… I actually made something for dessert.” Diego nudged the Tupperware container toward him with a guarded expression.
Ricky opened it, expecting to see more pot brownies, like he’d gotten for Christmas. Instead the most wonderful scent reached his nose. “Peanut butter cookies!” he cried happily. “I love these!”
“I know,” Diego said with a casual shrug.
“You really made them?” Ricky didn’t wait for an answer. He shoved an entire cookie in his mouth and began chewing while moaning in pleasure. “Wow!” he said after swallowing. “These are almost as good as my mom’s!” There was a funny aftertaste that he couldn’t place, but it wasn’t bad exactly.
“Yeah?” Diego asked.
“Yeah!” To prove it, he shoved another cookie in his mouth.
Diego looked concerned. “You might want to slow down there.”
“Don’t worry,” Ricky managed to say before he resumed chewing. Then he swallowed. “I’ll still have room for dinner. When my mom makes these, I usually sneak a few before meals. I prefer starting with dessert.”
“I don’t mean your appetite,” Diego said, taking the Tupperware container from him. “It’s your tolerance I’m worried about.”
“Tolerance?” Ricky repeated.
“Yeah. They’ve got weed in them.”
His eyes went wide in disbelief. “You’re joking, right?”
Diego snorted. “Of course not. I wouldn’t give you a lame present. They’ll get you high.”
“I thought that was only possible with brownies!”
“Nope. The weed goes into the butter, and the butter can go into anything. You’ll be all right though. How many brownies did it take for you to get high?”
“I don’t remember,” Ricky lied, because he hadn’t really eaten any of them. He’d nibbled the corner of one, offered some to Diego whenever he came over, and threw the rest away when they got stale.
“Just don’t eat more for a couple hours.” Diego popped one in his mouth before returning the lid to the container.
“How did you find this place?” Ricky asked while glancing around. He did his best to ignore the handful of small tunnels just big enough for animals to scurry into. “Have you been here before?”
“Yeah,” Diego said with a grin. “I used it to hide from the cops once.”
Ricky stared. “Really?”
“Yup. Nobody ever comes out here. I saw a guy fishing the creek once. That’s it.”
“Why were you on the run from the cops?” Ricky asked.
“I was speeding and wanted to see if I could get away.”
“Diego!” Ricky chastised. “That’s dangerous!”
His boyfriend merely shrugged, like it didn’t matter.
“And they never caught you?”
“Nope. Good thing they didn’t run my plates before they started flashing their lights.”
Ricky shook his head in disapproval. Then he remembered the time Diego had shown up in class with a bruise on his cheek and burn marks around his wrist. At the time, he had admitted the marks were from police handcuffs but refused to say more. Of course, that was before they were dating.
“Have you ever gotten arrested before?” Ricky asked.
Diego averted his eyes before answering. “Yeah.”
