Picture Perfect, More Or Less.

Numa: So we gonna smoke some shit or what? (He looks at Carter, who begins nodding his head in a giddy fashion, then to Ross, who's shaking his head in disapproval. Numa rolls his eyes.)
Numa, sighing: Will you stop being a pussy and smoke with us? Maybe it'd get that pole out of your ass. (Numa begins up the stairs to his room while he finishes his sentence. Ross looks at Carter.)
Ross: You're really going to just go along with this? You don't ever smoke unless he is. (Carter rolls his eyes, just the same way Numa does.)
Carter, voice cracking: Whatever, dude. I smoke when I want, Numa's just the man with the weed!
Ross: Yeah, but what does it do for you? Honestly, other than eat a hole in your pocket?
Carter thinks for a moment: Makes you more... Insightful.
Ross scoffs: Oh, bullshit. (Numa comes down, hearing the whole conversation.)
Numa, getting fed up: Will you shut the hell up Ross? Carter's a big boy who can make his own decisions, so let up, mommy.
Ross: If he's so grown up, then why the hell does he let you tell him to do pot with you?
Carter: Shut up, I do it because I want to.
Ross: Then why don't you do it unless he's around to tell you to? (Carter considers a moment, but Numa answers for him.)
Numa: Because I'm the man with the stuff, duh.
Ross: Easy way out of the question, Nums. (Numa decides to let Ross' little moment slide, as he didn't want anything to harsh his buzz. He grabbed a blunt, passed one to Carter, and extended one towards Ross, giving a little "Go on, take it," gesture. Ross shakes his head and instead chows on a Little Debby snack. Numa begins to light Carter's blunt.)
Numa, laughing: Don't eat all this shit, man. Me and Carter are gonna need a lot of food on our way to Mars! (Ross jokingly starts shoving food away from their side of the table over to his.)
Ross, yelling in a deep voice: No desert for you young men! You haven't finished your greens! (Numa and Carter burst out laughing.)
Carter, taking a puff: We're finishing them, dad! They actually aren't so bad!

[Though Ross was bashful at first and trying to tell Carter and Numa that were was no point in smoking so much, but as the night went on and the smoke started to spread, that happy, giddy feeling started getting into Ross even without taking a hit. They begin to, as they always do at one point or another, reminisce about times they've gotten into trouble together.]

Numa, eyes red with a huge smile: Shit, man! Remember that time we walked until 7 in the afternoon until like... Fucking four in the morning? (Numa is giggling left and right, barely able to talk.)
Ross, a little giddy himself: Yeah dude. Just looking for some fucking way to get food. What the hell were we expecting to find? (They all laugh and dig into some of the smoker's delicacies laid out on the table while continuing to think about the good times of the summer past...)

[It was a hot summer night, and even though the burning sun had been to rest some hours ago, the temperature still beats right down on the backs of the trio. Ross looks at his trusty wristwatch. The hand was a bit past two, and looking around he saw they were on the outskirts of the suburbs, treading dangerously close to the ghetto side of their little city. Far down they could see the buzz of the darker city night; liquor stores, bars, a few clubs, and what seemed like millions of cigarettes being lit at once.]

Numa looks towards the ghetto, longingly: Wish I had a smoke about now... (He lets out a large, drawn-out sigh, as if he was being separated from his soul mate.)
Ross: If you quit bitching and pick up the pace, I'll steal one for you from my mom. (Numa's face lights up.)
Numa: Really?!
Carter: Of course, Numa! He'd do anything to clog those cute lil' lungs of yours. Anyways, what are we out here for? It's gonna take us at least two hours to walk back to Numa's.
Numa, as if it's obvious: We're looking for food. Uh... Duh.
Ross: The more you say that, the more this whole thing sounds fucking retarded.
Numa: Well, sorry I have to feed your broke ass all the time! Why don't you bring over some money from your daily runs, slut?
Ross: Hey, don't blame me. Your mothers stopped calling. (They all laugh and continue down the sidewalk, passed a few apartments and a post office.)
Carter, bewildered: Wait a minute... How are we going to get food if we have no money?
Numa, acting cool: Well, I was hoping there'd be a late night party store we could rob.
Ross: Are you shitting me? You don't have the balls to rob anything.
Numa, offended: Uh, I have before! Hasn't nobody messed with me yet.
Ross: Oh sure, I bet everyone's scared of all four feet of you. (Numa jokingly flexes, showing off his "guns" to his two friends as they poke his arms admiring the non-existence.)
Numa: Come on, dude. Do you really think that even if someone noticed us stealing, they're going to chase a couple of teenagers at two in the morning?
Ross: Uh, yeah! All of these party stores are either run by Mexicans or Middle Easterners hopped up on hate. Some of them have shotguns under the fucking counters.
Carter, unconvinced: That's only in the movies, Ross. Don't be a queer. I, for one, am all up for stealing some food!
Ross: Oh shut the hell up, blondie! You wouldn't steal a damn thing even if it jumped out the window and into your backpack.
Numa: Will you two shut up? It's my idea, I'll do the stealing, just so my two best friends can have something to eat! (Ross shakes his head and checks his watch.)
Ross: Or we could be decent people and NOT steal from hardworking members of society. (Ross waits for a response but receives nothing.) Where are we going to find a party store at this time of night anyways?
Carter: There's one down the street from Natalia's hose I think. (Numa's head jerks towards Carter when he says Nat's name. He looks back forward.)
Numa: Nah, dude, fuck that. There's one on Rain Street. We'll go there. (Ross adjusts his hooded long-sleeve shirt, wondering why he was wearing that and jeans this hot night, unlike Carter and Numa. Then he registers what Numa just suggested.)
Ross, in disbelief: What? Get your head out your ass! Nat's house is right down the street from Bree's, it'll take us half the time!
Numa: Shut the fuck up Ross, Jesus! You gonna bitch a little more about how we have to walk, or how we're taking some snacks from some brown people you give two shits about suddenly? (Ross is taken aback by how Numa is choosing not only to walk more, but yelling at Ross for not wanting to.)
Ross: Fine then! If you want to steal something so bad, then you can- (Ross stops talking instantly as a police vehicle begins to slow down while coming towards them. They stop talking and begin walking as casually as possible, hoping the police car will pass by. Sadly, it doesn't. It slows down, and the cop on the passenger's side rolls down his window.)
Cop, sounding tired: What're you boys out at this time of night?
(For a moment, none of them say anything. Then Numa speaks up)
Numa: Uh, just going to the party store, sir. Not a lot of food at home, so we thought we'd go and get some.
(Officer turns and mumbles something to the driver, which is inaudible to the trio.)
Cop: How old are you boys? (They lie.)
Ross: Eighteen.
Carter: Seventeen.
Numa: Nineteen. (Ross does a slight double-take looking at Numa.)
The cop considers, then mumbles to the driver again: You know, I almost believed you guys if it weren't for the short one. (He points at Numa.)
Cop, stepping out of the car: I'm going to have to ask you boys to come with me. We got a curfew around her, you know. 'Leven o'clock. Sharp. (Numa shoves Carter down the sidewalk and darts as fast as he can down it. Carter is taken back at first, but regains his composure and follows him. The cop quickly looks as the two and back at Ross. Ross does a double take once again, runs, trips, then regains himself and follows his friends in their general direction. As he's running, he hears the driver on the radio very clearly.)
Driver: Three teenagers near Rain Street on 28th Avenue, two tall, one blonde and one red head and a short black-haired boy. Suspected drug possession...
(Ross loses what the driver says after that, and the sirens begin to sound. His heart beats as fast as it could and his long legs were taking him practically ten feet a step, making his running turn into concentrated leaps. While sweat had already been drenching him and had gotten even worse, his blood was cold as ice. His mouth was dry and felt like a scorpion's nest. He then realizes he's been running for a little bit and there was no sign of Carter or Numa, and the cops weren't far from detecting him. He spotted a small hill to his left and a pocket of trees, almost enough to make some woods. He did the greatest dive he'd ever attempted in his life and rolled down the hill, but slammed his back on a hard chunk of wood on his way down. He screamed out, but quickly shut himself up, afraid of being heard or already seen. He began to pant and wheeze. He is violently shaken by some snickering heard near him. He sees Carter and Numa crouch-walk over to him form the shadows.)
Carter, whispering but laughing: Holy shit guys, that was intense!
Numa, sounding proud of himself: I saved you from getting your mommy called on you, huh Ross? (Carter and Numa laugh and bump fists. Ross stands up, knowing the hill is covering him, and towers over Numa.)
Ross, whispering as angry as possible: What do you mean you five foot pile of shit? You told them you were nineteen and then shoved Carter with you and left me for dead!
Numa, offended: Uh, FIRST of all, of course I said I'm nineteen! I look the old-
Ross, interrupting: No you don't you little prick! You look like you're twelve at best. Those ages were believable for me and Carter. We could've sold him on you were my younger cousin and called it good, and then we would've told us to get home and we would! Instead we're- (A couple of sirens pass by, one of which stops by their hill. The three of them drop as if it was a military practice they've done for years. They move close to each other so they can whisper.)
Carter: Why the hell are there so many? The're must have been a lot on patrol in this area.
Ross: No you fucking idiot! They think we were out on our way to make a drug deal.
Numa, not believing him: What? You liar, did you and that fat pig stop for some chit chat while he told you? Stop making a big deal out of this.
Ross, enraged: I heard him on his little radio call for backup while you and Carter were busy ditching me! And what do you mean 'making a big deal,' we've got a fucking squad looking for us! I just hope they didn't see our-
Carter, noticing a flashlight: Shut the fuck up, faggots!
(They hold still and listen. The whole world seems to suddenly stop moving and grow quiet as two flashlights peer over the hill and hit the trees behind the three. All they can hear or focus in on is the murmuring on the cops above them and where the light from the flashlights were hitting, knowing that if they were to pass over any one of them ever so slightly, they would get caught and the consequences would ruin their entire summer. No more late nights out. No more going over to Numa's. Probably no more video games. The only thing Ross could think about was how fucked they were.)
Cop: Fuck, nothing here. Come on, they probably went down one of these...
(They wait what seems like years. And soon, the sirens fade away. They cautiously get up, still trying to make as little of the leaves rustle as possible. Except Numa, who jolts up in a happy step as if he was getting up to receive an award.)
Carter: Numa, you're a fucking genius. If you wouldn't have shoved me, I would have froze.
Numa, proud: No problem! Never leave a bitch behind. (Ross is looking at him in complete awe.)
Ross: But... You left me behind.
Numa shrugs: You're okay now, right? So whatever. (He sees Numa pull out a joint from his pocket and a lighter, and he lights it. Ross sees this and realizes the trouble they could have been in had they been caught. Everything Numa had just done from screwing up the charade to leaving him behind, now to almost ruining more than his summer.)

[Ross smacks the joint out of Numa's mouth, and as he almost asks 'What the fuck?' he quickly goes back in for a powerful slug right into Numa's nose, then another upside his head. Carter, in shock, stumbles to Numa's side to see if he's okay, then notices he was out cold. Ross tells him that Carter is going to be the one to carry him home, steps on the joint, putting it out, and starts walking back to Numa's. He needed some damn sleep...]

[Numa, Ross and Carter bring themselves out of the memory and back to the smoke-filled room. The story makes Ross remember where he was, and he stands up, looking around.]

Carter: What're you doing, dude? You're gonna lose the buzz. Yours is weaker since you're not smoking...
Ross: Good. I'm going to go take a shower and brush my teeth. Finish that shit by the time I get back or I'm putting it out myself. (He walks upstairs with his pajamas and takes a left into the bathroom.)
Numa calls back: Just try, faggot. (They go back to basking in the smoke and eating what's left of the food, flipping through channels and laughing at the dumbest things.)