Page 52 of The Way I Used to Be
“I’m Mara. And this is E—”
“Eden,” I interrupt. No Edy with these guys.
“Awesome,” Troy says, nodding his head with a ridiculous smile. They’re both dressed like they just don’t care. A sort of disheveled, grunge look. I kind of like it. Takes the pressure off, somehow.
Alex looks at us closely and asks, “You two don’t go to Central, do you?”
“No,” Mara offers. “How could you tell?”
“Because Central is full of total douche bags,” the other guy, Troy, answers.
“Except for us, of course,” Alex adds.
“So, what are you guys doing here?” I ask them, which happens to be the best conversation I’m capable of making.
“This is our spot,” Troy answers. “What are you doing here?”
“Celebrating,” Mara says. “My birthday.”
“All right! Well, happy birthday,” Alex offers. “It just so happens we have the perfect birthday present.” He nudges Troy, who reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a small, flat, rectangular silver box. Mara raises her eyebrows at me. We lean in as he opens it, revealing a neat row of tightly rolled joints. “So, can we, uh, join in the party?” he laughs, gesturing to our stash of beer.
Mara smiles and sits down. Alex sits next to her. Then Troy and I sit opposite them. He smiles at me in this peaceful, silly way, and I think he must already be a little stoned. Mara passes around bottles for each of us. And Troy lights up. This sweet, pungent smoke spreads over me like a wave. He exhales and passes it to me. I hold it between my fingers for a moment, considering it.
“What, you don’t smoke?” Troy asks, as if that would be the most absurd thing in the history of the world. Alex sets his phone in the middle of our circle and starts some music.
“I don’t know,” I mumble with a shrug. I look at Mara.Are we really doing this?I try to ask her without words.
“What she means is... birthday girl goes first. Right?” she says as she takes the joint from me.
I don’t care if I’m not being cool; I don’t want her to do it.
“Mara—” I start, but I’m too late. She closes her eyes as she inhales, then exhales a stream of smoke. She opens her eyes and looks at me with a smile and a nod. She passes it to Alex, who’s staring at me.
He watches me as he inhales and then passes it to Troy.
“She’s scared,” Alex says, still holding on to the smoke in his lungs, grinning.
They all turn their heads toward me.
“I am not scared,” I lie.
“I feel fine,” Mara tells me. Then she turns to Alex, “I feel really, really fine.” And they start laughing hysterically.
“It’ll help you relax, that’s all,” Troy says softly, passing it over to me again. “Try it. Just go slow.”
I place the paper between my lips and inhale.
“Okay,” Troy instructs me, “now hold it. Just a second. Okay. Let go.”
And I exhale. I pass it to Mara, who’s still laughing. It goes around the circle, from one person to the next, in slow motion.
“How do you feel?” Troy asks.
“I don’t know,” I say, my words jumbled up together. Even I can hear the panic in my voice. “Dizzy, light-headed—”
“Please don’t freak out!” Alex says like he’s annoyed.
“You’re not freaking out,” Troy assures me. “Here, try again.”
