Page 59 of Courtroom Drama
“Two,” he says.
“When? We took one,” Damon says, his voice seemingly echoey and inside me all at once.
“I took one in my room before you guys showed up. Don’t worry, I have a high tolerance.” He’s still smiling.
Damon picks up the bottle and inspects it. “He’s had... a lot. And, from what I can tell so far, these are the extra trippy kind.”
Damon and I exchange a look, then observe Cam again.
“We should have invited Tamra,” Cam says, grabbing another brownie from his bag. “I bet she’d be fun high.”
It’s hard to worry about him with that dopey look on his face.
I turn my attention back to the sky, unable to form anything resembling concern. Lying on a rooftop next to the guy I like, I feel like a teenager in the best possible way. Tonight encapsulates everything I know I missed after he left—friendships, thrills, bad decisions. I focused instead back then on being the perfect daughter to avoid adding to any tension between my parents while simultaneously building my plan toward independence.
“Doyouhave a high tolerance?” Damon asks, clearly attempting to dissect my statement about not feeling much of anything. It’s clear he and Cam do. The more time passes, though, the more his voice sounds like it’s originating from behind my face.
Mel and I take gummies fairly regularly, though ours tend to be more “sleepy” than “trippy.” “I don’t like losing control,” I say, a side-step for no apparent reason.
“I remember,” Damon says so quietly I almost miss it.
Distinct shapes begin to form in the sky. I find the Big Dipper directly overhead. A slight stretch down and to the left, the Little Dipper. Extending to over Cam, Ursa Major and Minor. Above Damon, Orion with his belt and sword. And after some searching, I find the North Star, shining just a bit brighter than the others.It’s so beautiful,I think, believing I could visually dissect this sky forever—even if the experience is being facilitated by a cold cement roof likely covered in stray cat pee.
A lightweight sensation takes me over, as if I am floating toward Orion himself. I picture Kara up there, holding a giant sheet of black construction paper, small holes poked into it, shining a flashlight through to create the scene we are transfixed by. I rather like this notion. I don’t look over at Damon, but I feel him staring intensely at the sky just the same. I wonder if he is seeing what I’m seeing.
Cam’s voice interjects. “Why do we have eyebrows?” he asks, seemingly transfixed by his own inquisition. Silence follows as we collectively ponder.
Apparently losing interest in finding an answer, Cam eventually wanders to the far side of the roof, leaving Damon and me staring up at the ebony sky.
“He’s really high,” I say. A distant part of me suggests perhaps we should keep an eye on Cam, but then another part of me—a much more insistent one—asserts that I should just let go.
I watch the sky, awestruck, as Orion swats his sword toward the Little Dipper, slicing it in two.
“Are you?” Damon asks, turning to face me, gathering the loose strings of my attention. It’s a unique angle to take him in from. I’ve never seen adult him lying down. For a moment, I believe we are in a bed.
I look back to the sky to see stars falling like confetti. I feel like I’m in a snow globe. “I believe I now am.” I turn my body to face himagain, all parts of him more lucid than ever before. I resist the urge to sweep my finger along the crease under his eye. Each time he blinks, it’s as though I can feel the skin of his eyelids as they slide against the wetness of his eyeballs.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks.
“Like what?”
“Like you want to eat me or something.”
“It’s your eyes... the way your eyelids move...” I can’t find the words, so I just keep watching the slipperiness of his blink.
Damon’s jaw muscle twitches and expands, and he opens his mouth, his perfect teeth wet like his eyeballs. “You’re definitely high,” he says, turning himself back toward the starry sky.
I look up just as Orion takes a seat inside the Big Dipper, his arms and legs dangling out in all directions. I laugh—at Damon’s eyelids, at Orion’s antics, at the fact that I am, in fact, very high. He huffs back, amused, and it’s a simple, knowing exchange at the absurdity.
“You should date more,” I say after a while, the unfiltered thought crashing out of my mouth like a crested wave. “It seems to me you belong out in the world, sparkling.”
“Did you just call me ‘sparkling’?”
I face him again. “Yes. You sparkle. It’s an objective observation. You know you do.”
His eyes crinkle as the tightness of his face further recedes. “I’ve never thought of myself as sparkly, Syd. That’s a new one.”
“You are indeed sparkly. People notice you. You have a presence that makes people take note. Kind of like Margot.” I look back to the sky but feel his eyes on me still.
