Page 32 of Not Your Romeo
I went to the closet, sliding the cheap door open and bending down to fetch the purse I kept hidden under the water heater, intent to pay for the ounce. The sound of a lighter drew my attention back to him in a hurry. He was taking a chance with that shit in the daytime, when everyone was moving around in the hallway and energetic enough to report it.
“What are you–?” I started to ask, but it was clear he was hitting it.
He blew out a big cloud of smoke and I laughed.
“Get over here, you gotta try this.”
“Nah,” I shook my head, waving my hands in front of me. “I don’t smoke like that. I hit a joint now and then, but– Shit, I wouldn’t even know how to start.”
“Girl–” He came and took me by the arm and led me back to the sofa. “Stop playing.”
He was twice my size, and I really didn’t want to upset him. He gave me the best deal around, and I rather enjoyed knowing it.
“Look– Just open your mouth,” His smile widened as I glanced at the huge round opening of the bong.
“I can’t put my mouth around that–” I protested, looking up at him like he was crazy.
“Girl,” He laughed, like I’d said the cutest shit. “Look. Look, just–”
His knees bent as he tried not to give in to his amusement.
“I’m done with this shit,” I announced, suddenly feeling like we’d gone from bongs to something else entirely. Especially with his friends grinning at me like they currently were.
“Nah, nah– Look.” He turned back, angling it toward me again, “Just open your mouth and there you go.”
I tried to put my hand over the end of it and draw smoke through my hand. I did get a little, but when that door flew open, I choked on it like I’d hit it as hard as Saint did.
My eyes watered and my lungs burned as I coughed and hacked, desperate to call off the chaos but unable to draw a solid breath. Zig ripped him away, causing the bong to slosh all over the floor while Henny slammed the door behind him and jumped in, landing a blow to the closest of Saint’s friends.
I didn’t realize the thumping was coming from the door until I heard a muffled, “Campus police. Open up!”
Henny heard it about the same time I did, he shoved Saint toward Ziggy, grabbed the bong and hurled it back at the floor like it had personally offended him. It shattered, and I screamed. Henny kicked the stem pipe under the water heater and slid the glass under the sofa with the side of his boot.
The banging on the door became frantic, “Open it up, now!”
I inwardly tried to pray, but it became a chant that spilled from my lips, over and over, “Oh my God. Oh my God.”
This was bad. This was fucking bad.
It was one thing to get busted, another to take the plug with me, but Ziggy and his club?
Ziggy had no such hesitation or hiccups to his criminal mind. He snatched the weed bag, ripped at it, and started shoving handfuls at Henny.
“Eat.” Henny shoved some at Saint.
“What the fuck?” Saint stammered.
“Goddamn it,” Ziggy growled, shoving some of it my way.
I frantically shook my head and began to hiss back at him “I can’t. I can’t eat that shit. I won’t be able to function. I have no tolerance. I swear to God, a single fuckin’ puff puts me out sometimes.”
“Jesus Christ, you pay for this education? You study plants and you don’t know marijuana isn’t activated unless it’s combusted?” Henny jumped in on the scolding.
“Wha–?” I blinked while they struggled to swallow.
“Motherfucker, if you don’t get to eating, I’m gonna put it in your ass,” Henny growled through gritted teeth at Saint.
When Saint grabbed the other ounce out of his bag, I thought Henny was going to slug him. I had no idea how Saint was able to chew, his face was swollen on one side and bruised on the other. He gave it his best, though.
