Of course, she wouldn’t.
“Have you even smoked weed before?” I asked, steering the conversation elsewhere.
“I’ve been near a crowd that was smoking.”
I snorted.
“And I’ve kissed someone right after smoking if that counts.” She chuckled at the ridiculousness of her argument, but my mind fixated on the kissing part.
“No, it definitely,” I said, my eyes drifting to her lips, “doesn’t count.”
She rolled her eyes, clearly amused, and I felt a twinge of something I didn’t want to name.
“Go shower. I’ll get to my task. Otherwise, Ava will beat the crap out of me,” I said, putting space between us and slipping out, closing the door behind me.
I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes, breathing slowly. I felt like myself again.
See? It’s fine. Nothing to worry about.
I think.
19
Hazel
Have you ever just... paused, and suddenly everything feelsway too real? Noticed every tiny detail—the people around you, the smells, the way your shirt is sticking to your back, birds doing whatever birds do up there, the trees swaying like they’re gossiping about you—and thought,How on Earth did I even end up here?
That’s how I felt on the couch. Laughter bounced off the walls, voices telling stories, and somehow I was following all of it, mostly. The ocean air filled my lungs, like it was doing some kind of meditation app exercise. Even the warm, cashmere blanket draped over me felt like it had been stitched by angels who understood exactly how lifeshouldfeel. I closed my eyes, trying to savor it all, and for a moment, I was convinced that if I concentrated hard enough, I could probably hear the furniture breathing.
Oh yeah, I was definitely stoned. Voices blurred together, but my mind fixated on Luke’s. My thoughts drifted back to yesterday. I refused to get bewitched by his nonsense flirting and meaningless compliments, but his scent kept lingering in my thoughts. The way he leaned in, his touch on my skin. I let myself imagine something that would never happen. Something he would never know.
Maybe that’s why it was so easy for him to snap me back to reality this morning. Maybe he had a reason, maybe not, but it was the reality check I needed.
I opened my eyes, head resting against the couch, and looked at him. Every part of me knew he was bad for me, so why did Ilet his words get to me? Why did they matter when he snapped at me, and why did they matter when he apologized?
“How are you feeling?” Luke’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. I was a horrible smoker. I would need a week or two to finish one joint myself. Two puffs were enough to feel light but not disoriented.
“Very good,” I answered, my smile stretching unnaturally wide. I couldn’t control it.
He smiled back, clearly amused by me. “Excellent. Good is what we strive for.”
Whatever had happened before quietly faded into the background, as though it had never mattered at all. Right now, all I wanted was to slide closer, to fit myself neatly under his arm like I belonged there. He was just too damn cute for his own good. That loose strand of hair falling across his forehead practically begged me to push it back, to let my fingers linger longer than they should. And God, those dimples. It would be so easy to fall into the trap.
To my surprise, everyone was smoking. An hour after I returned, we all cozied up on the patio couch, devouring Ava’s unbelievably tasty snacks and listening to music. James Young’sHabits of My Heartfilled the air, and I closed my eyes, letting the music seep into my bones. I swayed my head to the rhythm, mouthing the words I knew by heart.
I opened my eyes and glanced to the left, where Luke had spread out his body like butter, his gaze locked on me. If my self-control were better, I’d have looked away, but I was too dazed. Too happy. Not enough in denial to want him to stop looking, but lacking the willpower to look away myself.
Chatter buzzed around us, yet we were in our own bubble. I wiggled my toes, and he reached out, lifting my feet and wrapping them in a blanket. His fingers lingered on my skin longer than necessary. Too much sensory overload. I closed myeyes again, and somewhere deep in my mind, a nagging thought kept whispering that everyone was still here, a couple of feet away. They could see. But luckily, everyone was busy being high themselves.
As the second joint made its rounds, Summer jolted us back.
“Hey, we should play Truth or Dare,” she announced, way too enthusiastically, as if she had just invented the game.
“Oh, come on, it’s lame,” Luke said, his arm lazily draped over the couch, shrinking the invisible distance between us. “We already know too much about each other, and dares aren’t the best idea while we’re high.”
“Please. First of all, we have newcomers,” she shot a look at me. “Second, this isexactlywhen weshoulddo dares.”
Luke glanced at me, silently asking for backup.
