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I blink the thought from my head, rub my watery eyes, and pluck a flake of weed froer "Who were you to decide what I wanted to know?" Iwith s, instead of deciding for ood to know? Why couldn’t you just tell me and let me decide? Why wouldn’t you just talk toto leavenumbers I feel so lost all the tiical day is gone The longer I sit there, the uilty, but then the guiltand I can’t even reh the spinning and racing thoughts, I hear the door creak open, and Quinton co inside I quickly toss the flake down onto the pile, but it’s too late; he’s already seenit As he pushes the door open wider, he arches his eyebrow at me with curiosity written all over his face

"What are you doing, sitting here by yourself?" he asks as Tristan walks in carrying a large cardboard box, his face red and beads of sweat coating his skin

"Nothing" I slu inhere"

He looks at me suspiciously as he closes the door, then he saunters to the back of the couch and launches hi on the cushion with a hard bounce "Where did you run off to when you leftup his unlaced boots onto the table He has three holes in the hees and spots of ink and charcoal

I shrug, fold htly in my hand "I’ve been here the whole time I promise"

"Holy shit" Tristan’s arm muscles are flexed as he drops the box down on the countertop He wipes the sweat fro is fucking heavy"

"Well you didn’t have to take all the pipes," Quinton calls out His glazed eyes are still fixed on me "You could have just taken one or two"

Tristan starts searching around in the box, taking out pipe after pipe and lining them up on the countertop "And what? Turn down free pipes? That’d be fucking stupid of ue with him, but he clenches his jaw shut and directs his attention to ht? Because when I walked through here just a bit ago, you weren’t here"

That’s because I was in the bathroouts out because I think you’re hot, but I feel guilty about it And then I decided toto grow flustered, so I try for a subject change "Do you guys have anything to drink?" I blink ainsta little heavy and lopsided

Tristan peeks up from the box, and strands of his blond hair fall into his eyes as the corners of his lips tug upward "Like a Corona or two or three?"

Staring blankly at hih I want to, which is a little blunt forblunt seems awesome "One time"

"One freakin’a pipe in his hand When I narrow , and accidentally drops the pipe onto the ground He bends to pick it up, stumbles a little, and bumps his head on the side of the counter "Shit" He stands up, rubbing his head

I stare at the joints in the ashtray, a thin strea frohts run in an uneven flow inside uys do it?" I ask, because I really want to know--understand--what Landon’s fascination ith it all the time Why did he smoke it? How did itthat I was too good to sh, yet he didn’t think he was good enough? Why? God damn it There are always so many questions about hiet an answer, because he’s not here anyin to know is to try and find out for aze and then his face drops, like he just realized the joints were there "Fuck, who left these burning out here?"

"They were like that when I caernails

"Why didn’t you put the his feet to fall to the floor

"I don’t know" I rack my brain for htening Because I was thinking about s it Because I wanted to see what it was like--what it was like for Landon Why he thought I was too good to see what it was like

He leans forward, picks thee of the table, putting theood for it"