Brooklyn Noelle Brankovich

Chapter Thirty-three: "Two Alice's in Wonderland"

Dressed in a pair of blue paper bag shorts, a white trim cami, and low top white Converse, I got ready to start my day.
Because I was in the mood, I did my makeup and loosely curled my hair.

I bopped down to Cassie's just to say hi. We agreed to be friends and I wanted to bring that to life. Sure we hung out once already, and work together, but I was determined to break her out of that shell.
I can't keep hanging out with Noah, things are getting more and more intense every time we see each other.
Like, why didn't he kiss me the other night? I don't know, everything is just weird as is. Though I'm sure whatever's meant to be, will be.

I passed Gael in the hallway, he was leaving his place while I was going to knock on the door across from his.

"What's up, Harlem?" he asked me.

My eyes rolled at the nickname that stuck since the cruise. "Hello, Gail," I said, purposely mispronouncing his name.

Gael laughed. "Where are you going?"

"To Cassie's, duh," I jested. Gael knew I wasn't meaning to be rude, that's just how I liked messing with him.

"For what?"

"Geez," I snarled, "what's with the third degree? Am I not allowed to hang out with her?"

"She never hangs out with me," he commented, playfully being jealous.

My shoulders shrugged. "Ask her out sometime," I suggested innocently. I'm sure he wanted to, anyway.

Gael shook his head, getting all serious. "Can't. The policy, remember?"

I rolled my eyes. Everyone's so serious about this lame work policy that staff can't have any sexual interactions, but that's at every job, and people still do it. I don't see what the problem is as long as it doesn't affect our performance on the job.

"Okay, Mr.Employee-of-the-month," I joshed, bringing my knuckles to the front door of apartment 306.

"You're funny. What are you gonna do, go shopping, or something?" asked Gael, chewing down on his gum.

"You ask a lot of questions, let me ask you one: what's up with Noah?"

Gael looked more intrigued. "Do I smell a crush?"

"Gael, I'm twenty-two, I don't have crushes. I just wanna know, like, what's his deal?"

"I don't know, didn't you two go on a date the other night? Ask him," he told me. I see why they're so close, him and Noah, they (almost) act just alike.

I made a face at Gael. "I'm going to tell Cassie bad things about you. And we did not go on a date," I insisted. It was simply two friends getting food and having conversation for like an hour.

"So, you're going to lie? I'll tell Noah you have crabs. And that is a date, by the way," he countered. We blinked at each other until I cracked first. Gael laughed and said he'd see me around.

Cassie finally opened up. "Brooklyn," she sounded shocked to see me, "hey."

"Hey, Cassie. Can I come in?"

"Yeah, sure," she agreed, letting me walk past. I stepped further inside and admired what she's done with the place. It screamed Cassie, the way she made it her own.

"Is everything okay?" she inquired. It was funny because I could tell that was her way of asking what I wanted.

"I just wanted to see if you wanted to hang out. I haven't seen much of California, yet."

Cassie started to smile. "Me, either. What do you want to do?"

Both of us thought of activities before Cassie came up with a good one. "We could go bowling," she offered.

I've never bowled before but I didn't want to admit that. "Bowling sounds fun, okay!"

The alley was everything I imagined it to be, nothing special, but it's just like how they're portrayed on tv.

I looked up from lacing the tacky shoes and tucked the hair behind my ear.
When the balls rolled back through the thing and I cheered. "Ah, I love that! You ready?"

We smiled at each other and then I grabbed one of the balls.

"Oh," I laughed to myself, "heavier than I thought."

Cassie encouraged me to go first and I nodded.
"I have to warn you, I'm really good at this," I played, building up the confidence to release the pink marbled ball down the lane. Gutter.

The pins were replaced and I turned to see Cassie laughing at me in her seat. As competitive as I am, I didn't even mope, I just joined in the laughter.

I had no idea what the rules were, I just figured you'd win by getting the most pins knocked down, or something.
My parents never took me bowling as a child, I think they consider it a broke people's sport. They were into tennis, boxing, and anything in the Winter Olympics. But I was having fun, even if every time I went, it went straight to the gutter.

"Okay, you suck," Cassie joked after my last turn. "Here, let me show you how it's done." I watched as she bowled and got a strike. I clapped and she did a curtsy like royalty. Every time she joked around, I appreciated it. I knew there was a fun girl in there somewhere.

While I had been sociable my whole life, it was hard maintaining friendships with other girls. They either used me or were just plain petty and I was above it. Having attended a prestige private high school, I only had a select group of girls I called friends. And on the high school volleyball team, I talked and tolerated those girls but never called any of them a friend.
The girls from my college volleyball team and I had nothing in common, but we got along - especially on the court. And when I made captain they didn't think I deserved it, they thought it was only my privilege that landed me the spot.
As for the girls I've danced with, they were too stuck-up for me, I was nothing like that. Or, at least I didn't want to be and it showed.

***

I joked with Cass, having us laugh as we weaved through The Beach Plaza's parking lot, when we suddenly got a whiff of something. Something that smelled like skunk, but in a good way? And it was strong. I'm not dumb, I went to college, we knew what it was.

Cassie and I followed the pungent smell of weed, leading us to a man by the dumpster. He was thin and average-sized, nothing memorable about him except the tattoos covering his pasty skin. His long, dirty blonde hair was shaggy and looked dirty like the rest of his hippy-ish persona.

Myself and Cassie just stared at him like we were expecting something, unsure of what to say.

He blew smoke in our direction and said, "Can I help you two Girl Scouts?"

"Uh, what are you smoking on?" asked Cassie. I bulged my eyes to her, wondering where she got the balls to ask this stranger for drugs. However, it wasn't a bad idea. Alright, point for Cassie.

I'd never smoked before but I've been around it. It just never appealed to me then, but now, I don't mind trying the "devil's lettuce" - as my mother would say.

The stoner stared at us like we were crazy. "Weed, duh?" He sassed, taking another hit, not taking us seriously.

"Well," I spoke hesitantly, "do you sell it?"

His eyes squinted on us, scanning our bodies from head to toe. "What are you, cops?"

"Do we look like cops?" Cassie scoffed. We both folded our arms across our chests, waiting for him to believe us.

The guy just laughed in our faces, frustrating me. "Look, mister, can we just have one weed - One, um, bag? Please." Handful? Ounce? Branch? Leaf? I don't know terminology or how this works. Obviously.

I don't know if he was just crazy and wanted to get us high for some odd reason, but the guy reached in the inner pocket of his coat and tossed a small plastic bag in the air that I caught and shared with Cassie. Both of us lit up with wonder, ready to smoke it for the first time together.

Without having us pay, he disappeared into the darkness just like that, and neither Cassie or myself asked any questions about it. Shrugging that off, I put my nose to the bag and sniffed. Yup, that's the smell.

"What the Hell are we supposed to do with this now?" I asked Cassie who shared the same baffled reaction.

"How am I supposed to know?"

I rolled my neck. "I don't know," I mumbled, "I've never seen it open like this; I've only ever seen it wrapped in something."

"Oh yeah, a joint!" Cassie remembered. Yes, a joint! Another point for Cassie. "Where can we get those?" she asked.

"And a lighter, too?" I noted. Yeah, I'm pretty sure you need a lighter, like with cigarettes.

She had me stumped. We both were, actually. Cass and I paused for a moment to think. We could've went to the store, but we would've looked even dumber asking the clerk what to wrap weed in.

Then, it hit us. We exclaimed in giddy unison, "Let's ask the guys!"

***

Knock. Knock. Cassie softly tapped her knuckles to the door.

My foot tapped as I anxiously waited for Gael to answer his door, but we could hear the loud video games.

"Ugh, the ONE time we actually need them, and they don't answer," Cassie doubted, knocking again.

At long last, Gael appeared in the doorway. He glanced at me then stared down at Cassie, and wondered what we wanted.

"We have weed! Can you roll it?" Cassie inquired, fully displaying the baggie in Gael's chiseled face.

"Woah" he whisper-yelled, putting Cassie's little arms back at her sides, "get in here!" He pulled Cassie inside and I followed, being sure to shut the door.

I admired his apartment and instantly spotted the 'R' on the dark brick wall, thinking it must be for his middle name - whatever that is - or because he was too lazy to find a 'G'. He had a nice place, it was very on-brand for him.

As I stepped further into the living room area, I saw Noah sitting on the couch, with a controller to the paused game in his lap. He smirked at me and I subtly waved, trying not to distract myself from the mission at hand.

Meanwhile, Cassie and I stood by the wall as Gael made himself comfortable in a chair.

"Ask Noah what you asked me," Gael snickered.

Noah sat up, raising his head to signal that he was listening. "What's up?"

Cassie repeated herself, revealing again the bag of weed that the hipster from outside gave us. "We have weed," she said, "can you roll it for us?"

Noah and Gael turned to exchange looks and bursted out in hysterical laughter.

Cassie and I cut out eyes to each other, not seeing what was so fucking funny. I blinked my eyes and waited for them to grow up.

"We're serious," Cassie snarled.

Gael came over and stood in front of Cassie, calming himself down. "Who would sell weed to them?" he asked, Noah, working himself up again. Noah leaned over his knees, cackling at his best friend's remarks. Are they high, I asked myself in my head.

Cassie and I didn't bother telling them any details about where we got it, why, or who we got it from.

Collecting himself for real this time, Gael asked, "You sure you know how to smoke this?"

"No," Cassie confessed surely, "but what's so hard about smoking? You just smoke?" I agreed, doesn't seem like there's much to it - basically just suck and blow I figured.

"Right..." Gael hummed, slightly chuckling at us as he walked to his chair and pulled up a tv tray table.

Cassie followed him with the weed and handed it over. Before joining them on the sofa, I noticed the bowl of lighters, keys, and other miscellaneous items. Remembering we'd be needing one to smoke, I took it. What? I'll bring it back. . .

I sat on the couch beside Noah, saying, "Hey, boy."

He returned, "Hey, girl," and patted his pockets in search of something. Before Gael asked, Noah chucked a thin brown cart at him that said RAW. Apparently, it's classic joint rolling papers.

"What are you doing smoking," Noah asked me, "aren't you an athlete?"

"Are you judging me, Noah?" I tested him, raising an eyebrow. He threw his arms up in innocence with nothing more to say.

It wasn't too long before Gael presented Cass and I with the joint. We didn't thank him, in fact, we didn't say another word.

On the way out, though, I heard Gael sigh. "I'm not even gonna ask."

***

We found a beach, only the one near the plaza. Weed's legal in Cali - even for recreational use, yes - so it's not like we were trying to hide.

Cassie and I mounted ourselves one of the holders that was set further down the beach, along the shore.

As Cassie held the joint, I smiled and revealed the light I managed to snag. If this becomes a regular thing, Gael probably won't be getting his lighter back.

"I guess we just smoke it now, right," Cassie questioned like I knew any better, "and see what happens?"

My head nodded. What she said sounded good to me. "How long does it take to get high, though?" I asked, just as oblivious as my friend.

"I don't know," Cassie said. She lit the joint and inhaled greatly, coughing up a lung. I laughed, quietly asking if she was alright.
From what I saw in the past, the choking was normal. I let her wait with the joint pinched between her fingers.

"I think I'm high," she told me. I stared at her, seeing how spaced out she was.

"No way it's that fast," I claimed, "give it here."

Cassie didn't let me take the joint from her hands. "Ever heard of 'puff, puff, pass'?" she questioned me.

My face curled. "No? So, pass. There's no way you're high that fast."

I put it between my lips. Following in Cassie's footsteps, I took a big hit and inhaled until my chest inflated fully and I felt like I was going to explode and/or die from not breathing.
I choked something serious and passed it back to Cassie.

*

I'm not even sure what time it was or how long had passed but things spiraled pretty quickly.

"Woah," I faltered, rocking back and forth, "I feel weird."

Cassie giggled at nothing, not even paying attention to me. She was no longer with me, she was far gone.

Man, this is some good weed. . . I think. Holy shit, I smoked weed? My mom is going to kill me! Wait- I'm grown. I laughed hard at my inner thoughts until I heard myself laughing and got self-conscious. Is that what I sound like? Can Cassie hear me? Am I saying this out loud.

"Can you hear me?" The words echoed, I didn't know if I was thinking them or saying it aloud.

Needing to keep smoking because I thought I'd somehow surpass the trippy level I was at and reach sanity, I hit it again and was hype to see smoke go through my nose. Woah.

Playfully stopping me from another draw, Cassie said, "No, you puffed pass me, so hand it over." For a second, we lazily cat-fought over the joint but Cassie got it as I was too weak.

Everything was numb and weird. I could hear colors, even. The ocean waves crashed on the sand and I swear I was in Heaven. Am I in Heaven?

Cassie swayed, giggling and humming to nothing, looking like someone who's been smoking for years.

I had to start reminding myself to breath and do so manually, not automatically, at one point.

In a panic, I told Cassie, "I can't feel my face," and that was true, I couldn't. It wasn't like that pins and needles feelings you get in your feet, legs, or butt after sitting for a while, but I legit could not feel my face, it simply wasn't there.

Cassie laughed at me and stretched her hand out, putting her warm palm to my cheek. "I can feel it," she guffawed. Her hands stayed there for a second longer before I pulled away and laid back on the surface of the damp rock.

"I like this you, Cassie," I whispered at random, staring up at the stars in the blue-black night sky. "Well, I like this me, too."

Silence. Cassie looked over at shoulder and down at me with a straight face. "...Me too," she drawled in a quiet voice.

Unable to take each other seriously for longer than a few seconds, the two of us broke out in obnoxious laughter.

We'd smoked the joint down to it's end where it was too short for us to hold any longer and put to our lips without getting burned.

"What now?" asked Cassie, hunching her shoulders.

I sat up and looked both ways down the beach. "We get rid of it, I think."

"How? Where?" she wondered. My lips twisted. I wasn't sure, but I had an idea.

Cassie and I approached the tide, not caring our shoes were slightly getting wet more and more every other time.

I took the butt of the joint from the center of Cassie's hand and flicked it in the ocean. Probably wasn't the most environmentally friendly option, but it got disposed of nonetheless.

For a couple of minutes, neither of us said anything. The only sounds being made were those of the ocean, passing traffic, and nocturnal animals in the trees.

"How do you feel right now?" I asked Cassie. We both remained looking out at the serenity of the ocean where it met the skyline, the full moon's light hitting the water just right.

She slowly went, "What?"

I blinked as my eyes settled on the side of her face. I noticed how red and low her eyes were and wondered if I looked the same way.

Sighing, I redirected my sight to the ripples in the water.

"How do you feel," I repeated with emphasis. "Right now? At this very second. I feel like the opening credits to a Quentin Tarantino movie - any of them - but mostly Pulp Fiction. Or, the transition in Nights by Frank Ocean."

Pulp Fiction, a classic. The work of a man so indifferent, so twisted, it's genius.
And "Nights" one of Frank Ocean's best songs! Every time I listened, I wish it could hear it again for the first time and feel how I felt when it initially blessed my ears. A song five minutes long, made for lost souls. With a transition amazing enough to give your ear an orgasm. It builds tension with a soothing cadence and sense of unease, with lyrics of overwhelming loneliness and drug-fueled escape. Chef's kiss.

"How Deep Is Your Love." Cassie recited a famous song title.

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Hm?"

"The Bee Gees." She bit down on her bottom lip and smiled at the memory. "My Mom used to play that song every day, and I thought it was beautiful. Like you could feel loved from a song."