November

As I watched the numbers climb, my heartbeat raced it. What was I doing here? My hips squished on the lap of the guy in the middle of the backseat of a small two-door gray Lexus. My lips closing around a Newport then ashing out of the sunroof. 96...104...115... The numbers are still climbing. Shit, I could die. My hand brought the liquor up to my mouth and I took a long slow sip. I let the liquid make its way down my throat, savoring the burn as it hit the spot. 119...122...128... They are still going as Jarred hits the gas pedal even harder. He lets go of the steering wheel to turn the music up while simultaneously grabbing the blunt of Heedys. I turn around to look at Will because I can feel his hand running up my leg. Why am I letting this happen? Relaxing as the blunt is passed my way, I graciously take a super long hit, watching the end burn red, and holding the smoke in until my eyes watered and my stomach lurched. I kept waiting for the sound of sirens coming to stop the speeding vehicle and throw my sixteen-year-old self in jail, but it was like waiting for my dad to say I love you.

We drifted around the curved ramp, ending up somewhere in Wilmington. The blunt almost gone, Jarred threw it out the window as we passed a cop car. My heart lurched as I once again waited for the sirens, but none came. Pulling up in front of a small surburban house, I realized how royally fucked up this all was. My jeans were too tight, my shirt too low cut, my body too drunk, and my brain too high. This was not your normal high school party, mainly because I was the only one still in high school. But was it a mistake?

I had been warned about the combination of pills, alcohol, and marijuana. Why was I doing this? Where were my morals?

It was so much fun and yet a part of me wanted to protest. Yes, no, maybe, so?