The Ideas Found In Your Marijuana

Ryan sucked on his joint. They had been silent for a long time, breaking it only to cough. He wrapped his fingers around the thin paper and watched Brendon for a moment. He was oblivious. His head rested against the back of the couch and his eyes laced through the heavy smoke around him, looking for stringy fingers in it. Ryan felt sorry for him, but he had long decided that this night would be the one where he finally told Brendon how he felt. He let his lungs fill with smoke and cleared his throat when he had released it back into the room. Brendon looked up at him, his movements as lagged as his mind felt.

“I think I’m gonna leave the band,” Ryan stated.

Brendon sat for a moment, silently before a small laugh escaped his lips. “Yeah, me too.”
Ryan furrowed his brow and let the room fall back into silence. Brendon started to fidget, his foot bouncing against the carpeted floor.

“You’re serious?” he finally asked.

Ryan nodded. “Jon and I.”

Brendon leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You and Jon?” Ryan nodded again. “So, it’ll just be me and Spencer?”

“Instead of me and Spencer.”

Brendon fell back against the couch, tossing his hands over the back of the couch.

“Christ…” was all he said.

Ryan took a long drag on his joint without looking away from Brendon, whose mind he could see wandering beneath his dark eyes, trying to pick the perfect words. When he got up, muttering something about grabbing his bong, Ryan knew he hadn’t and ever would find them.

Ryan had just made either the best or the worst decision of his life.