“We’re not,” Bella said easily, flopping onto her bed. “We just fuck around on tour.”
She dragged her rucksack closer and rummaged inside. My body went tight the second she pulled out a neatly rolled joint and a lighter.
“Do you mind?” she asked, settling it between her purple-painted lips.
“N–no,” I said too quickly. “It’s fine.”
She flicked the lighter until the flame caught and brought it to the tip. The paper burned red-orange, smoke curling upward almost immediately. Without the window open, the smell hit fast. I tried not to inhale, but breathing wasn’t optional, and the herbal, floral scent filled my lungs before I could stop it.
Bella took a deep drag, holding it in until I briefly worried she might black out. Then she leaned back against the headboard and exhaled, a thick cloud of smoke rolling lazily towards the ceiling.
I stayed very still, heart thudding, pretending my focus was on the wet wipe in my hand instead of the way my nerves were suddenly strung far too tight.
“Pass it here,” Trix demanded, holding out her hand and clicking her fingers.
Bella extended her arm without bothering to sit up, and Trix wriggled closer until she was sprawled half across my thighs.She plucked the joint from Bella’s fingers, took a drag, then turned and held it out to me.
“Fancy a smoke?”
My eyes widened. I stared at the burning joint like it might leap up and brand me if I got too close.
“I—I, um?—”
Trix smirked. “Have you ever smoked weed before?”
“Yes,” I replied far too quickly.
A hysterical part of me almost laughed. Weed was practically wholesome compared to some of the shit I’d put in my body before. If she knew even half of it, her freshly dyed hair would’ve turned white on the spot.
“Come ooon,” she drawled, eyes already going glassy as the drug settled in. “It’s a pamper night. Relax. Take a load off.”
I chewed my lower lip. My hand clenched at my side, then loosened again.
The devil on my shoulder leaned in close, voice sweet and persuasive.
Take it.
One drag.
Let it soften the edges.
Let the weight lift and drift away with the smoke curling towards the ceiling.
Another voice answered back. Lower, steadier. It sounded a lot like Bodhi.
No.
Don’t.
It’s not worth it.
Trix took another pull while I hesitated. When I glanced over at Bella, she was already rolling a second joint, quick and practised, like this was all part of a well-rehearsed routine.
I knew I shouldn’t. I knew I should say no. I should’ve dugout one of Dr Williams’s coping strategies from the Willow and held onto it with both hands.
But I was just . . . so tired.
Tired of trying so hard only to live in fear of fucking it all up anyway. Tired of not being able to say no without my chest tightening and panic clawing its way up my throat. Tired of knowing I wasn’t as strong as Bodhi thought I was. Tired of knowing I hadn’t been brave enough to stop myself from getting addicted the first time around.
