Chapter Two

My friends decided they were not going to be attending the rainbow groups anymore, and I had decided the same thing. As much as I wanted to see Chase, something told me he wouldn't be attending that group, neither.
It was seventeen days before I saw him again. I was sitting at my usual table in the cafeteria, waiting for my friends to come by and start debating about where to go after school was done for the day.
It was a Friday — I had the weekly chapter examination for a sociology the class after lunch, so when my friends arrived, they took their seats and began to debate without me.
While trying to decide whether I had correctly paraphrased a passage in my assignment of the chapter (my instructor had already decided I took the information out of context and I was trying to find a defence) I swore loudly and profusely, causing many tables to stop their chatter and look at me. I sat down quietly, refusing to look at the people around me.
My friends were smiling at me by the time I finally looked at them, and behind them, I saw Chase. He was also looking at me with a form of amusement, like he understood the part of me that caused my outburst. I stared at him for a few seconds before smiling back, too. My friends, having decided I was suffering from minor shock over my outburst, went back to deciding between going for after-school coffee and heading to my place.
They decided we were going to see my brother. He sold pot — the good stuff, not the "common" cheap stuff — and that was why most of my friends remained my friends after I came out. I can't directly point someone out for having that reason, but I acknowledged it as a reason.
By the time I fully prepared my appeal to keep my paraphrase, my friends asked me if we could hang out at my place, I smiled and nodded. I was meaning to get my revenge on Dwayne, anyway. Last time we had been at my place, he took my favourite racing car for in the racer game, Deal, and crushed me in every race we played. Since I was one of the best drifters out of our group, I was determined to prove those races were merely won out of chance.
"We have a half hour, so I guess we should make this quick," Dwayne said, looking at his watch. He was one of my closer friends, and usually the one I would prefer to hang out with. Today was his and Justin's turn to pitch for our joints.
Everyone else agreed, and began to pack up their books. I stayed behind, trying to make my argumentative notes as idiot-proof as possible. I didn't want to go off on some unrelated tangent. Everyone except Dwayne left the table, heading off to their lockers.
"S'up?" I asked him, shoving my textbooks into my backpack.
"Dude, do you remember that mute at the rainbow meeting"
I stopped, but only for a second. I wanted to look to see if he was still watching. I didn't. I went back to shoving other haphazard belongings into the backpack.
"Yeah, what about him?" I asked, then looked at him.
Dwayne looked at me sheepishly, then looked around. By then, I decided he wasn't comfortable with telling me how Chase got involved with us, so I stood up and motioned for him to follow me. I caught Chase looking at us as we walked out of the room. It was now obvious both of them had conversed about something.
I led Dwayne to my locker, which was on a quieter end of the school. I was by the auto shop, even though I was homeroom computer technologies. The school usually gives the more convenient lockers to students, so if I had paid my locker fee on the first day of school, I would have received a locker five steps away from home room. My brother, who was already graduated, told me to wait a few days, and I'll get assigned a locker in either the auto wing or the biosciences wing — both of which are usually deserted during lunch hour save the random student.
When I got to my locker, I looked at Dwayne, and asked him what he wanted to tell me. As uncomfortable as he looked, he finally sighed, the tell-tale sign of his defeat.
"Chase was wondering if you knew where to…" he made a gesture with his hands. I knew what he was referring to, and I nodded.
"Try to get in touch with him before the end of school. Ryan just got a new load, so I'm sure he wouldn't mind," I said, trying to act like we were talking about something we weren't going to get expelled for, especially since my locker held a good amount of the stuff.
After I shoved everything I needed for the afternoon into my packpack, and relieved myself of everything I wouldn't need until the morning, Dwayne led the way out the side doors, where Justin and Kyle were waiting.
Justin was one of the dudes I knew from Grade 6, and we really only hung out because we knew we would be able to faithfully trust each other. We were more business acquaintances than we were friends, but we didn't seem to let that affect our getting along.
After we all agreed we were good to get going, we began to walk toward Cheryl's Place, a coffee shop a block from the school, and turned into the wooded area as soon as we got out of site from the school.
We walked for a few minutes, heading into the wooded area so our presence would not be immediately obvious. I was not nervous about the situation, at all. We had been coming to our spot since we had all discovered the lovely THC affects.
Justin pulled out the joint he rolled earlier in the morning. It wasn't a very skillfully rolled joint, since he preferred using bongs more than joints, but he realized their convenience. Therefore, he could roll a decent joint.
Kyle was more of a joint person, so it made sense they both pitch — one good joint, and another kind-of-good one. Both of them sparked their joints and took a couple puffs. I was still reflecting about how I felt with the situation Dwayne presented to me.
The first crush I wanted more than anything — I had other crushes, but they were based on physical appearances — and he would be walking through my front door with my group of friends. It wouldn't be hard explaining it to my mom if she were actually home, but the coincidence that he would come to me was offsetting.
Justin's cough snapped me out of my wandering mindset, and I realized Kyle had been trying to give my turn to Dwayne. Snatching it back, I playfully punched him in the arm.
Kyle was one of Justin's better friends, and we had acknowledged our relationship to be more acquaintance-based than an actual friendship. He was a bit older than me, since he was held back a grade, which was how Justin met him.
I took a few puffs of the pot, and held it in my lungs while I passed it off to Dwayne. I wanted to cough, the burning sensation had taken affect the moment I drew my first breath of THC, and finally, I blew it out. I didn't cough, as much as I wanted to. I pulled out my drink from lunch and took a few shots. My eyes watered a bit, but I didn't mind. Kyle was ready to pass the second one to me, and I took it without complaint or excitement.
I loved getting high, it was one of the few things which helped me. I was diagnosed with chronic depression when I was 13. It's pretty pathetic being on antidepressants, so I stopped taking them. My mom thinks I do, but my brother has been selling my prescriptions for me; so, I had more money than I really should have had. It helped support the expenses for smoking up — I had a few bongs, a couple of pipes, and a good strand of marijuana. I wasn't complaining, and I was able to concentrate on more than how the world hated me.
I knew that wasn't true, but without the pot, I was convinced everyone was too busy in their own worlds to give any attention to mine. With the antidepressants, I was obnoxious and rude. Either way, I didn't like how it felt, so the pot was a good outlet for me.
I never questioned the others' choice to smoke, but I suspected Justin did it just be accepted. Kyle was in foster care, so that explained a lot more than his habit. Dwayne had some issues at home, which only I knew about and he made me promise not to tell the other two. I kept that promise.
After we all finished the pot, we wandered down to the coffee shop, and I ordered my london fog — a wonderful blend of tea, steamed milk, and honey. Dwayne usually got himself a large coffee and was on his way. The other two ordered their smoothies and we went off to school.
We usually had about 10 minutes to get back to school after our lunchtime routine, but we always made it 15 minutes later. Dwayne smoked cigarettes, and so did Kyle. Spare the odd cigarette, I didn't define myself as a smoker. Justin wasn't fond of the smell of smoke, so he usually went inside after we reached the school.
I watched the leaves fall off the trees, listening to everything around me with a renewed sense of amazement and appreciation. Dwayne and Kyle got into a discussion about whether or not Ms. Latchmon was a lesbian. They agreed if she were, they'd want to see her make out with another woman.
"But not with another teacher. She's the only one that's actually hot," Dwayne concluded as he stomped out his smoke. I smiled at him and began walking back to the school's door.
Kyle silently trailed behind us. He always got quiet after he had a toke and smoke, so we didn't find anything wrong. I think he reflected about everything he was expected to do.
When I met his foster mom, I saw she had great faith in his ability. I knew what she was talking about, because Kyle was always smart. He knew a lot, but he only seemed to bring up the most irrelevant topics, as well as not thinking before he said something.
His foster family, his social workers, and his teachers all expected him to go far in life. I knew he would be able to do it if he tried, but something inside him repeated a disbelief only he saw. I don't know what it was, but I would occasionally let Kyle know if he needed to talk, I would be there. He's only talked with me once.
After Kyle split to go to class, Dwayne turned to me and frowned — a sign he was trying to make sense of what was going in his head. He grew up smart, as well. He said his first word a few months earlier than expected, and has grown exponentially into a very smart kid. The trouble was, with all the knowledge in his head, he had difficulties sorting through the information. That's where I think the pot helped him; it slowed his thought-process down to a manageable point.
"OK, so I was thinking," he said, which signaled a proposal, "that if this Chase kid comes with us, we should just drop by your house for a few minutes, then head out."
I looked at him with a blank smile, asking him what he was getting to.
He sighed, "He's not a friend of ours, but basically just a potential costumer. If we let him stay with us for the night, he might think we're trying to pull him into our group. We've been getting into some trouble lately, and adding him to the situation would just muddle things up even more."
I nodded. Since school started this year, I had been more aggressive than usual, and my snippy remarks at the teachers have been causing a lot of tension in the classroom. I did my work, but I refused to have an intellectual conversation with any of the instructors. Dwayne and Kyle have been allowing their grades to slip, which isn't a good thing, and Justin, though I'm not entirely sure, has been cutting class — especially the morning ones.
"All right," I said. "go to class, I'll meet you outside after school. If you know how to get in touch with Chase, then bring him along."
I stopped for a moment. I wasn't usually the one to make up the decision. But since this was my house, my pot, and my money we were talking about, I was the only one capable of making a choice.
"Then we'll go for a walk in the woods, over by Park Palace."
"The palace? Why are we going there?"
"Because, in order for us to get a new costumer, we have to show them that we're willing to smoke with them. Since he's new, we'll just go for a walk."
"I don't feel like walking that far, though."
Park Palace was one of the boardwalks in our town. Since we lived by one of the biggest lakes in the area, it was a main attraction. The palace was an old section of the boardwalk, and people usually didn't go there anymore. It was a good 20-minute walk away from my place, but it was secluded from most main roads.
"Who gives a s**t? I'll bring a couple of my pipes, and Kyle can roll a few joints."
There was a pause, "And just how long are we going to spend there, and how much are you planning on smoking?"
"Not much," I smiled. I enjoyed planning things, but I usually let other people do it for me. "There will be five of us, I enjoy my pipe, you can borrow Sunset, and the others can smoke their pot however they choose."
Dwayne finally smiled; he liked Sunset, my orange glass water pipe. He understood what I was doing now. Although I felt sharing pot was important, I liked having my own bowl of pot. I usually supplied enough for a personal bowl of pot for everyone.
"OK, we'll go to the palace, and after that, we'll go to my place and you can crash there."
"We're late for class," I said. "Text Justin. I'll see you outside after school."
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