“You inhale?” he asked. We were in the woods where the keg used to be, but with no nighttime to hide us. “Try again.”
This time I inhaled too much and coughed. He rubbed circles on my back.
“Here, drink this.”
I drank the rest of his Pepsi, something I never drink – too much sugar. But I needed to stop coughing, and with new sensations floating through me, I didn’t care about the extra calories. “I’m ready now,” I said after my last cough.
When he passed me the joint again, I put my lips to it and took a longer drag. I passed it back.
He inhaled the last bit. “Come on,” he said, his voice clogged with smoke. “Let’s see your quarry.”
When I turned down Dominion Road, Sean flicked the van’s high beams and my rear-view mirror caught his bursts of light. I had this urge to keep starin
