Sam tried to warn me, but over the course of Monday to Saturday I'd become quadrupedal and grown a long, furry tail.

Eight-to-five I napped on my bed (handjob futon), stared at 'Alex' (the iguana), finished my kibble (Cap'N Crunch), and read Jane Austen.

Okay, maybe I'm a little different from a dog...

But when I heard that front door creak open, it changed my perspective on canines forever. If I hadn't been specifically asked not to in a language that I understood, I would've been barking my head off! Seriously, it was the most exciting moment of my day.

Especially since I thought I'd be spending the week with Dean, but he'd left town in a hurry Tuesday night. He said something came up and he'd explain later, but I hadn't heard from him which wasn't too unusual for our dynamic. Our contact was intimate but sporadic.

Friday night Sam and I stayed in, eating takeout fried rice from the box, high out of our minds and binge-watching cheesy rom-coms in our pajamas. I tried my best not to feel like I'd replaced Pearl.

"Hey, Sam?" I asked and she hummed, her mouth full. "What do you think of everything going on... like with me? You haven't really given me your opinion."

Sam paused until she swallowed. Her umber-toned skin absorbed the light of the television, casting a flickering array of reds and blues and yellows across her cheeks and nose. She was cinematic.

"The only person who is gonna have to live with your decisions is you, and I don't want to influence you; just tell you how I see it. I think that you and Dean are a ticking time bomb, if I'm being honest..." She readjusted in her seat, pulling up her paw-printed pajama bottoms.

"But that's besides the point. You only get one life, and for a girl who read all of Jane Austen's published novels in a single work-week, you sure do like to pretend that you're not a romantic. And that you're not as smart as you are. This... life can't be enough for you. And as much as I hate to admit it, I think we both need to cut down on the weed."

Nope, not happening. Not yet. Not now.

Sam's eyes met mine.

"I think I can make it work with Dean. I know it sounds crazy but I've had years to think about this. Thank you for telling me the truth though," I replied, picking at an individual grain of fried rice with my fork and ignoring the rest of her answer.

Even though doing so brought me shame, I wasn't ready to admit that she was right.

"Of course."

"Hey Sam?" I asked again and she hummed again. "What do I need to know going into my first trip tomorrow?"

She set her takeout box on the sticker-covered glass coffee table, balancing the gigantic spoon that she'd selected for 'efficiency reasons' across the opening. Alex's UV light clicked off, and I knew by then that meant it was nine.

Goodnight lizard. See ya in the morning!

"We'll go over all of this with you again but you're taking a pretty small dose tomorrow. Everyone's trips are different but if I had to guess: your trip tomorrow should have visuals, assuming Benji got good shit, but nothing too crazy. He has these super cool wood floors in his house. For me, when those floors start flowing like a river underfoot, I know it's kicking in," Sam explained, growing excited as she spoke.

"When you're tripping, you're in a super vulnerable emotional state. That's what Benji and I are there for: to make sure that you have a good time. And I'll be tripping too, also taking a light dose. But Benji will be sober. If something's bothering you or if there's something you want to do, just let us know and we'll try to make it happen... We also have antipsychotics on hand."

Antipsychotics?!?

I was taken aback by all of the new information.

What have I gotten myself into?

"The antipsychotics are in case it gets to be too much for you: a trip killer. I doubt that you'll need them, but it's good to know that they're there," Sam reassured. "When it gets intense, I usually just remind myself that it will end at some point. Your brain isn't broken and even if, God forbid, you have a bad trip, it's not forever. The meds will just speed that process up if we need them to."

I lowered the rice to my lap, absent-mindedly wiggling my toes on the shag-rug underfoot, tickling the bottoms of my feet. Sam gave me a warm smile.

"I understand if you're nervous. You can back out if you're not comfortable. No one's gunna be mad at you," she said, leaning over and giving me a side hug, squeezing me hard before releasing me roughly.

Ow.

"No, I think I want to. The whole vulnerable part of it at all scares me. I don't even know if I know who I am underneath it all," I admitted.

Sam wrinkled her nose at me, huffing a laugh before responding.

"Maybe we can get you one step closer to knowing tomorrow! It'll be a long road, but I think once you realize that you can't put a price on living with authenticity, everything is going to change for you and how you perceive yourself. Not judging, just sayin'."

Damn Sam...

Guess I'll find out tomorrow...

The next day came quickly.

"Here, put these on," Sam said, tossing me a pair of thin, loose pants. They jingled through the blue, LED lighted air, a silver chain dangling from the belt loop and pocket.

I slipped them on over my panties.

"You look so cute!" She squealed from the corner of her bedroom, where she was redoing her eyeliner for the third time.

Fidgeting with the bottom of my white crop top in the floor length mirror, a peeling Cervix Destruction sticker in the top right corner, I thought that I looked pretty good, despite straying from my typical preppy look in the pants-department. The comfortable red pants flared at my hips and arched gently down to my ankles, giving me a silhouette that I was unfamiliar with, but loved.

Sam had insisted that I would be cold once the shrooms kicked in and I didn't put up much of a fight agreeing to the pants. They were cute.

When in Rome...

I felt a weird sense of anticipation, and it occurred to me that that was the first 'new' substance I'd tried in forever, and to my surprise, it scared me as much as it excited me.

When in Rome...

My doubts were pushed to the back of my mind, where I could pretend that they'd passed.

When in Rome...

I repeated the phrase to myself so many times, I wouldn't have been surprised to find it branded onto my forehead.

Hours later in Benji's manilla folder colored kitchen, I rolled a small cluster of powdery dried mushroom chunks into a sticky piece of vegan fruit leather, the only food we would apparently need for the rest of the day. I had been instructed to drink lots of water and to have a good breakfast and lunch today, and I had.

When in Rome...

I chewed on the foul tasting drug, its bitter flavor and chewy texture barely disguised by the sticky, strawberry bar. My heart was already racing, shooting nauseous thumps to my sinking stomach. I tried to ignore it. Sam gave me a reassuring smile before she washed her dose down with a crackling bottle of water, and I attempted a smile back.

I gagged.

Blurry eyes.

You've got this.

Swallow.

I opened my mouth, holding my bare, wiggling tongue out to show my friends.

Applause.

Benji clapped a hand on my shoulder and spoke in a low, serious voice. "Welcome to the other side, friend. Now let me take you to the playpen."

He led me with a firm hand to a slightly narrow door, opening it and beckoning a hand down the stained carpeted stairs, the bottom completely obstructed by darkness. I looked at him like he'd lost his mind.

Are Benji and Sam, of all people, kidnapping me?

"Benji, you're a fucking asshole," Sam said before bursting into laughter. I joined in nervously, looking back and forth between the pair. "He's just fucking with you, which he shouldn't be doing." She shot him an ugly look before walking past us both, clicking on an off-white light switch.

I was glad that Sam interjected before I took off running, because Benji's 'playpen' turned out to be one of my new favorite places on Earth.

The whole house smelled like weed, but especially the basement. The small room, with its high contrast wooden floors and yellowed walls, plastered with empty craft beer boxes and The Ramones posters, was a sight for sore eyes. A large bin on a propped-up coffee table was filled to the brim with fidget toys and stuffed animals.

I was wrong before. This in my mom's hell...

"What do you think?" Benji grinned, waving his arms around in the direction of the mounted electric guitars and haphazardly-stacked collection of DVD movies. I smiled.

"It's cute! I like the beanbags. And I haven't seen a TV like that in forever!"

Sam had already sunk, cross-legged, into a chair as she clicked the massive box of a TV on.

Static.

Sam and I watched quietly as Benji hooked his laptop up, a video of rolling clouds before pulling up a playlist on Spotify entitled 'Trippin'', and hitting play. The vibe was comfortable. My head bobbed along to Ripple, a The Grateful Dead song that I was already familiar with, as my heart-rate returned to normal.

I'd almost forgotten that there was a timer on my sanity.

"Hey, June?" Benji asked and I hummed, plopping into the beanbag next to Sam's. "Can you pass me your phone?"

"Why?"

"No phones while tripping; sorry. Nothing stressful this time," he shrugged, holding out his upturned palm. I groaned before pulling my phone out, checking the time, and handing it over.

4:21 PM

Now we wait...

When in Dolphin Coast...

4:52 PM

I feel... strange.

My skin had a numb, sticky tingle to it, my body painfully aware that it was losing touch with its own perception, attempting to expel the poison before it was too late. A nauseous shiver shook my posture-less body, legs sprawled like a frog as I hunched, cloud watching on a silver screen. Sam told me to focus on my breathing so I did.

She's such a good friend...

When I saw my first human face in the clouds, I did a double take. An angular, yet crooked nose and two wide set eyes erupting from cotton. A handsome partial-image.

"How ya feelin'?" Benji asked, not looking up. He was playing a game on his phone at full volume, his sweat-shirted elbows jerking around and his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. 'Oof' and 'Yah!' cried out of his tinny speaker.

"I think that I just saw a face... in the clouds," I responded; I stood up, nervous. Wobbly knees.

"That's cool! Do you see any more?" Benji asked enthusiastically, still not looking up. My heart sank.

Why is he ignoring me?

Before tears had time to prick in my eyes, Sam grabbed ahold of my clammy hand, sending a warm glow up my dangling arm. My eyes met hers and again, I did a double take.

Holy shit...

Standing an arm's length from my friend, I could've counted every pore on her face, each shimmering hole outlined in gel pen, like the highlights on a strawberry. I wasn't judging, just observing. My chest was warm, despite my shivering arms and legs, and I decided that I loved her in that moment. Calmly and to myself.

"Have you looked at the floors yet?" She asked.

I could barely hear her over the sound of my mouth-breathing.

"Oh, uh," I stuttered before looking down at my wiggling, socked toes.

My feet look so far away... Is that what they always look like?

Wait...

Sam was right!

Wooden floors really do flow like a river...

"Pretty cool, huh?" Sam chirped, rocking on her heels and looking around.

I gave her a loose nod. Waves of euphoria were hitting me and I scanned the compact room, now seeing hundreds of faces, some realistic, some smiley, in every smudge on the walls or fold of beanbag. It was beautiful, but overwhelming,

A pressure was building in my skull and my chest strained, anxiety skyrocketing as I worked through my come-up. Luckily, I'd been prepped; I knew what to expect.

You've got this...

Benji must've finished his game because without me realizing that he approached, he placed a kind hand on my shoulder and led me back to the beanbag. My feet stumbled, learning how to walk again. I felt like a toddler.

Deep breaths...

Deep breaths...

You've got this...

I spent the better part of the next I-don't-know-how-long cuddling a sock-monkey that Sam had chosen from the toy bin specifically for me. She'd chosen wisely. I was calm now and silent, deep in thought as I watched Benji and Sam dance around the room to Time of the Season by The Zombies. They left blurry streaks behind them. Cartoon-ish joy.

They would make such a great couple...

Their bouncy, loose dancing, circling each-other like prey was well-choreographed musical theater and I'd bought every ticket. The lights had dimmed and the curtain had risen. Show time.

Sam's pupil-absorbed gaze was admiring in nature and anyone with eyes could see how much Benji cared, his dark expression soft and his lips agape when he looked at her. He was smiling, huffing an affectionate laugh.

I was smiling too, I thought, but when Sam caught a glimpse of my face, she and Benji were both at my side in an instant.

"What?" I laughed, choking out a sob and attempting to 'shoo' them away.

"How are you feeling? The meds are here if you want them," Benji responded, reaching out and giving my hand a gentle squeeze.

What a nice guy...

I shook my head, making sure to smile this time even though tears were still rolling down my stone-cold cheeks. The flowing warmth was a happy comfort; I was cold.

"You guys are just... really nice. Thank you both for everything, really," I cried, meaning it.

"Awh... June," Sam started. She, too, was crying now as she threw her arms around me, strangling me in a bone-crunching hug. I savored its warmth.

"Thanks for sharing. The sock monkey's cool. I had one like this growing up," I spoke in short sentences, struggling to keep my bottom lip and chin from quivering.

"Any time. You're one of us now, if you want to be," Benji stressed. I froze.

I didn't know what to make of what he was saying. I hoped to remain friends with Benji and Sam this summer, but I couldn't be 'one of them'. At the end of the summer, I was going back to River Crest.

Right?

"Thanks."

When my come-up had passed and everyone was comfortable, we decided to cloud watch in the backyard.

I was adjusting to my new, warped reality and the nausea passed, which was a bonus. The blue-and-white sock monkey, who I'd affectionately named 'Guy', was cradled in my arms as I followed, still mouth breathing, behind Benji and Sam. She held his hand.

We went out the creaky backdoor and past a stinking trash bag: a melting pile of leathery faces. It unsettled me, but did not scare me.

It's not real...

The sky on the boxed television screen was captivating, but the real thing was even better. Cloud lions and whales and so many fucking faces passed overhead. I was in awe.

"This is... this is incredible," I whispered, clutching the stuffed monkey to my chest. It felt like a real hug.

Sam breathed in deeply. She leaned her head against Benji's hoodie sleeve and hummed.

"It really is."

His eyes went wide at the contact, looking down quickly before stiffening, hardly breathing. It was the sweetest thing that I'd ever seen.

Even though in the sunlight, they both looked like creepy mannequins and I was getting a terrible 'uncanny valley' with their faces, I was happy for them. Even though their cheeks were plastic. I looked away, both giving privacy and out of fear.

I think I'm hitting another wave...

I wandered, not far, to a pile of mulch under a palm tree in his backyard, the shared backyard of this strip of townhouses, where I rested my head and back against the trunk.

You've got this...

I looked to my monkey for comfort, staring into his button eyes as his stitches rolled and swayed, the trip deepening in intensity.

You're got this...

The monkey smiled up at me and I smiled down at him, sadly at first and then not. His presence was comforting. When I looked back up from my monkey, I watched as Sam kissed Benji softly, pulling his broad neck down with the palm of her hand. Benji ended the kiss quickly, seemingly mindful of her distorted state but he pulled her in for a long hug, holding her like she was the most precious thing on Earth.

It might've been the purest thing I'd seen in years.

I got distracted by a bush that looked suspiciously like a person.

"What do you want to do? We have movies or we could talk or play games. Whatever you feel up to!" Benji's voice cut over the wind. He was standing over me but I hadn't heard him approach. I'd been zoned out, watching a kudzu-covered forest morph between various animals and beasts, shapes and buildings.

How long have I been out here?

The sun was setting, lighting the parade-animals overhead ablaze before they would become invisible: an ashy scattering of stars. I felt calm.

You've got this.

"Can I just sit here? I promise I won't go anywhere," I pleaded. Visuals had begun to die down slightly and I wanted to stay where it was warm.

"Okay... just don't go far. We're in five-oh-four if you do wander... but don't. Oh, and," Benji reached into his basketball shorts pocket before handing me my phone. "Emergencies only! Please wait until you've come down to use it."

An out of sight seagull squawked.

"Promise." I said with a smile, pocketing it and holding my hands up innocently. My hands left greasy streaks in the air.

I sat under that tree, thinking for hours as I watched Thanksgiving parade animals and faces fade back into darkness and reality: clouds and leaves and branches. I laughed. I cried.

I sat under that tree until I was given a reason to get up.

As night crept in around me, swallowing me wholly in the warm swampy air, I heard a familiar song rattling in the complex's parking lot: Fleetwood Mac's The Chain. It struck me hard in the chest: I wanted to dance. So I did.

I stood up, holding each of my dancing partner's stuffed arms and jumping and hopping to the beat(ish) of the song. I felt the way that my body moved and buzzed and I closed my eyes, humming into it. The ground pushed up on my feet. I gave in to sensation.

What a pleasure it is to feel...

Especially here...

Especially now...

Under that tree, I'd finally admitted to myself, in the very limited way that I was capable of at the time that I wasn't happy, but it was complicated. Sense and Sensibility battled it out in my non-linear mind: financial security or romantic desires.

What's the shame in being practical? A romantic partner could hurt me, but Dean wouldn't. He wasn't like that.

Well... neither was Pearl...

My heart wanted to sink but it didn't. For once in my life, I was being objective.

I didn't know what I was going to do but I did have one key take away: life is too short and the world is too beautiful to stand in place, miserable.

You've got this...

The song finished and Guy and I headed off to sleep, changed.