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CHAPTER 10 

Elias

Josh never lets the doorbell ring twice. 

The guy's a born runner and for as long as I've known him, he's always sprinted to the door to let me in. His dad says that if he wants to make varsity in freshman year that he better answer the door as fast as he does fifty-yard suicides.

But sometime after the sixteenth ring, I start wondering if I'm at the right address.

Tanner's halfway to swim practice by now, so calling him to come back and get me is out of the question. Even if I did, I wouldn't want him to see me like this. It was hard enough to make it through the car ride here without losing it. 

And, now, I'm so wired from Trish's text I'm about to kick down the door or jump the fence just to get a blunt between my lips.

Another five.

Ten.

Fifteen minutes go by without any sign of Josh or Marcus anywhere.

J's phone's ringing to voicemail. Marcus's car is gone.

And I'm about thirty seconds away from accepting the reality that I might have genuinely gone crazy.

Is this how it happens?

Is this how people end up slipping into bad habits just to stay sane?

'Cause I'm losing my grip on things.

I'm aching for a high to make things seem okay when I used to not needing anything to be okay.

But right now I need something to save me so I don't have to keep trying to pick apart what parts of the last twenty-four hours were real.

The fight with Dad.

The night with Nikki.

Seeing that girl.

I shut my eyes and rewind back to the sound of her laugh, and the same warmth that exploded across my chest then makes a second appearance.

That happened.

So did Josh's phone call. So why the hell isn't he answering now?

I lean back against his wide mahogany door, grip the sides of my jeans, and try to squeeze the tension out of my muscles, but nothing helps. 

I need to move. 

Standing still's starting to feel like sinking, so I step off the concrete stairs, slide into the bushes, and stare into the front window to see if there's anybody alive inside the house.

Even though there's no sign of anybody anywhere, the Morales' place still feels like home. It's small, humble, and packed to the walls with little pieces of South America to keep the family connected to where they come from.

My dad's six-bedroom, beachside castle is a collection of expensive useless things that he shows off to his friends. Nothing means anything. His house is a consolation prize for him suing people for a living.

Meanwhile, Josh's family owns a little Colombian fusion restaurant that my dad would never set foot in. It's this hole-in-the-wall haven with authentic Colombian dishes cooked daily by Josh's grandparents. 

They put as much heart and soul into the food that comes out of their kitchen as they have in raising their family.

Tanner, Mom, and me go whenever Dad's out of town. Without a doubt, no matter where you are, as long as your around the Moraleses, you'll always feel at home. 

Josh's parents might not make six figures, but they make time for their family and still manage to make enough time for me.

I've crashed at Josh's place enough times to know the whole layout of the house by heart. No room is wasted because there's always somebody home and always somebody cooking.

Except today.

The living room's dark, and aside from the light left on at the top of the stairs, the place looks empty.

I climb out of the brush and pound on Josh's door like it'll make a difference. If his neighbors are watching, I wouldn't be surprised if they ended up calling the cops. 

Maybe they should. 'Cause I'm getting to the point where breaking a window or jumping the fence blocking off the backyard doesn't seem like a bad idea.

If it were Josh standing out here right now, he'd be cool. He'd wait as long as he needed to without getting anywhere close to the level I'm at right now.

I don't even know how I got here.

As much as he smokes, he doesn't get the way I'm starting to whenever he can't. He still handles his school work, plays sports, and has a regular life.

But I guess those are the perks of coming from a functional family.

Right now, there are too many things setting me off to not get high.

And as jacked up as it sounds, I'm more worried about how to get my hands on a blunt than I am about saving my friendship.

The whole thing would be a lot easier if I could sneak into the back and light up before I have to face Josh. I know how to smoke just enough to stop feeling anything now. Josh had to walk me through it the first couple times.

When I first started, I didn't think I'd end up liking it this much. 

Marcus's particular brand of weed left me dizzy and stupid to where I almost made the mistake of walking away from it. But the worse things got at home, the less I minded the buzz.

Smoking used be simple.

It was something to do every once in a while.

A way for me to feel like I had friends.

Like I had somewhere to go when my house started to feel like a cage.

But lately the lines are blurring.

Between this being a hobby and a bad habit.

Between a good time and an escape.

And I'm more okay with that than I probably should be.

I should be more worried about how quickly it took for me to get to this point.

The point where I can't tell the difference between need and want when it comes to my relationship with Mary Jane.

But I don't care about any of that right now 'cause I need the hazy silence she gives me.

My head's filled with too much noise. 

The sound of the screaming match me and Josh are probably about to have. 

The ping of Trish's texts playing out over and over again. Bouncing off the walls of my skull while guilt's twisting my stomach into knots.

But maybe I'm freaking out for nothing.

Maybe he doesn't know about it yet.

And even if he does, maybe the best thing me and Josh can do is agree to forget this girl, lay out on his beat-up couch, and fill ourselves with clouds of smoke until none of this matters.

Until nothing matters at all.

"Hey, man."

Josh suddenly appears in the front doorway wearing an inside out, backwards t-shirt and unbuckled jeans hanging halfway down his waist. 

Josh is usually more put together than three of me combined, but right now he looks jacked. Real talk.

"Dude, I've been standing out here for twenty minutes. Where the hell were you?"

He grips the back of his neck and takes more than a couple seconds to answer an easy question.

"Out back. Couldn't hear the bell. Sorry."

Right.

"Did Trish talk to you?" I ask.

His mouth perks up at the corners.

"Talking isn't exactly how I'd put it," he says, and then half-laughs to himself like his inner stoner has come out to play.

I check his eyes for the usual signs of how he spends most of his Saturdays, but the glaze he's got going on isn't from the weed. 

Something's off. 

The sober, anal Josh I talked to on the phone earlier is gone. I don't know what the hell happened between now and the forty-ish minutes it took to get here from the food truck, but he's way too chilled to be the same person who called me eight hundred thousand times this morning. 

Looking at him now, you wouldn't know anything's wrong--which is exactly why I know everything is.

"I'm serious, man. Did she say anything to you?"

"Easy, E. If you're that crazy about knowing, why don't you ask her yourself."

Josh flattens his hand against the door and pushes it open wide enough for me to see exactly why he's been acting out of it since I showed up. 

His eyes cut away from mine and a big stupid smile erupts on his face which completely rubs me the wrong way.

I've seen that smile before.

I know it inside out 'cause the only person who can drive a guy crazy enough to make him smile like that—is her.

Trish slinks out of the shadows and cozies up next to Josh wearing next to nothing but his favorite Mission Bay Athletics t-shirt. 

Not even two seconds pass and she drags him into an over-the-top kiss that's more of a performance than an actual show of affection. Josh gives into her games like he's her own personal piece of PlayDoh that she can bend and twist however she wants. 

Once she's finished throwing herself at him, she whips around and winks at me like screwing with people is her full-time job.

"Oh hey, Elias. Thanks for the pep talk earlier. If it wasn't for you, I would've missed out on being the happiest girl in the world right now," she says, grinning.

Trish weaves her fingers between Josh's and I'm pretty sure he would've floated away on cloud nine by now if gravity didn't exist.

"We're official. Thanks for turning things around, man. I owe you big," he says.

Josh lets go of Trish and yanks me into a hug that I can't and don't return. He doesn't notice. He pulls away and goes right back to eyeing Trish. So I do my best to snap him out of it.

"I need to talk to you--without her here ," I say, but Josh isn't listening.

He's too busy enjoying Trish shoving her rack into his chest and cuddling him like teddy bear. Once Josh is down for the count and Trish is fully satisfied with her "pelvic sorcery", she redirects her attention back over to me.

"Sorry, Elias. Me and Joshie are a unit now. Whatever you want to say to him, you can say to me, right, babe?"

This is the point where Josh can man up and save himself from turning into one of those guys who ends up on his girlfriend's leash. 

I stand there waiting for some kinda sign to show me that my best friend still is alive and kicking despite hurricane Trish, but it never comes. Josh kisses her on the forehead and nods in agreement instead.

"The girl's gotta point. Besides, if it's about the whole hooking up with Nikki thing, Trish already knows. No secrets here."

A tiny earthquake goes off right under Trish's left eyebrow just below her piercing. You have to know where to look to catch it, but whenever she's pissed off or horny, it starts throbbing away to the point where it warps her face a little. 

If Nikki's name causes a 6.2 level of irritation on the Trisha scale, I wonder what else talking about her could do.

"Good to know. I'm glad your girlfriend's the kind of chick who doesn't mind hearing about how Nikki is as absolutely mind blowing in the bedroom as she looks."

Twitch.

"For real?" Josh asks, and for a second, I actually think he forgets about Trish. Mission accomplished.

"Absolutely. You haven't been with a woman unless you've been with her. Nikki is, hands down, the hottest girl in school---"

Twitch. Twitch. Twitch.

"--quote me."

Josh throws me a high five while Trish is too busy fuming to join in on the fun.

"Props, man, if Trevor and his boys weren't after you, I'd take you out on the town the celebrate. By the way, my pops says you can crash here tonight. Probably a good idea after what Marcus heard."

And just like that, everything decent about the moment drops off the face of the planet.

"Yeah, I heard some pretty messed up things from some of my girls on the cheerleading team too. Bad decisions always catch up with us, Elias," Trish chimes in without any invitation whatsoever.

I throw a fake smile her direction and she sends it right back.

"It works both ways, Trisha."

"I don't know. It's just, if I were a guy, I wouldn't touch Nikki Ross. Everybody knows that she's basically a whore and that her boyfriend nearly ended up at juvie for beating up some guy at his last school. Watch your back, Elias. I'd hate for anything bad to happen to you over something so stupid."

She pouts at me and the whole thing is so irritating, it takes an inhuman amount of restraint for me to not call her out right on Josh's doorstep. 

I swallow the anger rising in my throat and change the subject so I don't shoot my mouth off the way I want to.

"Thanks for your concern, Trish. What would I do without you? Anyway, Josh can we smoke now, please? And where's Marcus? I need some of his stronger stuff today."

Josh stares at me confused.

"Tanner didn't tell you? Marcus texted him after we got off the phone. Said he was going to school to try to talk down Trev and some of the other guys on the team."

"What?"

"Trevor's dudes were talking about meeting up on campus before driving out to go look for you, E. Tanner said he'd go with Marcus to try to cool things down before that happens."

The feeling in my hands goes first. Numbness spreads out from my fingers, wraps itself around my arms, and drains all the warmth out of my chest.

"What are you talking about?" I say, but my voice comes out in pieces.

"Tanner went to deal with Trev. But don't worry about it, Marcus and him will handle it."

Loss of control in three, two...

"It's not their situation to deal with. Why the hell didn't you say anything earlier? You could've texted me before either of them left!"

I'm shouting. I don't even know why I'm shouting but the pressure inside my chest is building and at this point, there's nothing I can do to stop it.

Josh steps away from Trish and grips me by the shoulders. I try shoving him off but he's got two inches on me and a hell of a lot more muscle so fighting my way out is already a lost battle. 

When I'm calm enough to actually stand still, he stares me down until I force myself to look at him.

"This is why we didn't tell you. 'Cause everybody knew you'd say 'no'."

Josh breaks eye contact the second he lets it slip that even my own brother was discussing my situation behind my back. If I had the energy to be more pissed at him about it, I'd lay into him about being a shitty friend but — I know he's not. 

He's watching out for me the way him and Marcus know how and Tanner's doing his best to be a decent older brother. 

I just didn't want them to have to get involved in a situation like this because of me.

"Look, if Trevor was all talk, Marcus and Tanner would've left it alone. But the kid was running his mouth about you and Marcus wanted to make sure he didn't follow up on the kinds of threats he was making. I've seen how he plays football, man. All rage. No sportsmanship. He would've come after you the same way."

"Even if that's the case, I should be there too."

Josh reads it loud and clear and shoots me one of his famous, "everything's gonna be fine" looks when I know he's no more sure of that than I am.

"And do what? Get yourself beat? Marcus is respected on the team and Tanner's the big man on campus so they're the best guys to handle it. Sometimes you gotta let the big dogs step in and go to bat for you, you know?"

Yeah, but Tanner should've told me. 

It's not his job to step in and fix things with Trevor when he's not the one who's pissed him off in the first place. Tanner was mad quiet on the car ride over. Now I know why.

My mind goes off in all kinds of bad directions just thinking about what him and Marcus might've gotten themselves into. 

I dig my phone out of my back pocket and am a tap away from an easy phone call to Tanner when Josh stops me.

"Hey, they'll be 'aight. Just sit tight and let em' work. Marcus said he'll call when he knows something."

Great.

"So what, we're supposed to just sit here and wait around for the rest of the day?"

Trish comes bouncing her bra-less way over and latches herself back onto her new "boyfriend", parasite style. Josh throws his free arm over my shoulder while he uses the other to half-fondle, half-cuddle, Trish. 

The three of us should absolutely never be this close to each other ever again.

"That's exactly what we're gonna do. But better. I got a little bit of that kush left over from last time you rolled through. I don't even remember that weekend and I think you could use some 'not remembering' today. Am I right?"

I'm nodding before I even open my mouth to answer the question, and a nod in the wrong direction is all Josh needs. He waves me into the house and before I can blink, we're all standing outside of the greenhouse door waiting for Josh to open the padlock. 

Trish steps backwards away from him until she's just about shoulder to shoulder with me. She pulls her long blonde hair over to one side which for some stupid reason gets my attention and locks her eyes with mine.

"So, Josh tells me you've tried almost everything him and Marcus have in the greenhouse."

I'm not proud of it, but she isn't wrong.

"Yeah. And?"

"Well, I brought along a little extra something for my two favorite boys if you're down for a little adventure."

I'm always down for an adventure as long as it has nothing to do with Trish.

"I'm good. Maybe some other time," I say, and then b-line into the shed before she's sees the stupidly pathetic part of me that doesn't wanna turn her down.

I step inside the greenhouse and the telltale Morales haze rushes into my lungs. Josh never smokes first thing in the morning but it looks like today's an exception. 

His neon Colombian flag is still hanging crooked on the back wall flickering and buzzing over his famous rolling table known as "the kitchen". 

I've watched him and Marcus create some of the best and most bizarre blunts in La Jolla back there. 

I haven't earned my stripes yet for them to trust me with handling their green much less rolling it, but I like to post up on the bar stool next to "the kitchen" to watch them work.

But today's not an easy afternoon like it normally is. 

As soon as I'm through the door, I throw myself onto the blue-green tie dye couch which smells a lot like Trish's perfume and Josh's sweat. 

I sit up and shift over to the edge that doesn't stink of sex while Josh takes it upon himself to show Trish the ropes of rolling a blunt in "the kitchen".

I turn around and watch him explain to her how everything works and do my best to hide the fact that he absolutely should've had that conversation with me before someone like her.

Trish isn't even taking the time to appreciate the art form.

Thirty seconds in, she laughs off his lesson session, grabs a few papers, a baggie, and goes to work. I stop watching somewhere in the middle of her ridiculous "I can do it myself" charade that Josh is way too into. 

While the both of them are busy verbally taking each other's clothes off, I shoot a quick text to Tanner to see if I can get any answers out of him before he gets back.

He doesn't respond.

He doesn't even check the text to read what I said.

He always checks.

He always responds.

Whatever.

He's busy.

He's fine.

Just fine.

"Lunch is ready!"

Josh saunters over to the couch with the solution to my thinking problem hanging between his fingers. 

He hands me my new best friend and sinks down into the opposite side of the couch leaving just enough room for Trish to worm her way between us.

I hear her fumbling across the room toward the both of us and light up faster than I have in my life just to take my mind off her. 

I breathe in too hard, too deep, and the high hits me fast. 

Faster than any other time I've let myself sink into this couch. I lean back slowly and catch Trish watching me react to a blunt I'm fully aware she screwed with.

It doesn't take long for the chemicals to kick in.

A couple minutes pass, and suddenly I feel like I'm tethered to my body with a balloon string, but I'm not high enough.

I keep breathing in until the connection snaps.

And just like that, I stop feeling.

Stop worrying.

Stop thinking.

And float.

Trish turns back and smiles at me through the haze and as much as I don't wanna admit it right now.

I'm stupidly grateful.

So grateful.

'Cause for the first time in 24 hours, everything's fine.

Just fine.

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Thank you guys so much for reading/listening as always! MASSIVE thank you to anyone who voted as well :). Next update should be on FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 22ND unless we say otherwise! 

#Realtalk Question of The Week:

1. What do you think Trish is up to now that she's decided to date Josh?