If I'm Not Out Burning.

The noisy lunchroom was really turning my simple hangover into an earthquake in my temples. I laid my head down instantly and hadn't lifted it since. "Fuck my life," I mumbled, massaging my head slowly and fervently. Nothing I'd done this morning eased my hangover in the slightest and Daniel thought it was a heap of hilariousness as he drove me to school with the music on just enough to make my ears ring.
Books dropped on the table next to me and I sat up so quickly my head spun. "What the fuck!"
Becca looked at me, her head turned to the side, and sat down in the chair to my right. "You look like shit."
"I feel like shit, dude," I mumbled, laying my head back down on the table and pulling my hoodie to cover my aching brain.
"You went out last night, didn't you? Dude, it's Wednesday! We have an Anatomy test next period, remember?"
I groaned. "I'm not going."
"You need to start smoking again or something," she gritted through her teeth, grabbing her books and walking away from the table. I could hear her sandals slapping against the ground in her anger for only seconds before all of the other noise made it disappear. That coming from her was something considering she hated me smoking.
"Fuck," I sighed. "What am I doing with myself."

"Hey baby. You ready for me to come pick you up?"
I walked down the bus lane, dodging eager underclassmen. "Yeah baby. Come get me. I'll be at Taco Bell, okay?"
"Okay baby. See you soon."
I hung up my phone and began the long, treacherous walk ahead of me, wishing that I had some sunglasses at hand. Of course I didn't and had to endure the harsh Florida sun with my dilated eyes and raging headache. All the while thinking about what Becca had said. I was a lot more concentrated when Daniel and I were smoking, which is a ridiculous thing to say. Now we just go get drunk every other night, and alcohol does not treat my tiny little body well in the slightest.
Taco Bell came in my view and I sighed; so close yet so far. It was like having that word you found so important at that point in time on the tip of your tongue, but it never came until hours later when you couldn't even remember why you were trying to use it. Well, as I was entering the Taco Bell parking lot, I was trying to remember why I hadn't just gone home instead of going to Daniel's. Home meant nursing this raging hangover and sleep, which I could definitely use after the night I had endured.
Climbing into the Buick, I threw my backpack on the floor and snuggled into my hoodie in the passenger's seat. I could feel Daniel's smile from the left of me.
"No kiss?" he asked, a mocking curiosity in his voice.
I leaned over, centimeters from his lips, and looked him dead in his eyes. "Do you have any sunglasses?"
He smiled. "I love you."

--

I hit it twice and let the smoke roll over into my nose before I layed back in the comforter and just melted into my surroundings. Daniel was smiling next to me as he hit the blunt, that familiar filling of entrancing smoke filling our lungs taking us captive. I wanted to just roll in this feeling – this amazing, addictive feeling. I could feel my brain unraveling with a heavy sigh. I needed this.
“Do you miss it?” I heard, but Daniel’s mouth wasn’t moving – he still had the blunt in his mouth.
I looked at him, confused beyong belief. “Miss what?”
“Suzanna, wake up,” he demanded sternly. He was still hitting the blunt, though, and he looked so happy. I was so confused, but I just closed my eyes and inhaled that…Ramen noodle smell? “Dude, wake up!” I opened my eyes again and saw Daniel sitting next to me eating Ramen noodles, watching Adventure Time with his Adventure Time hat on. “About time,” he laughed, “you kept talking about weed in your sleep.”
I sat up and rubbed my face. “That was surely an interesting dream.”