Status: Ahh, this has been in my head for a while so... crossing my fingers.
Perdetevi.
Promises.
Ricky didn’t talk much, if it hadn’t been for the noises of the TV, the basement would have been completely silent. After an hour, he stopped playing and lounged back on the ugly, mustard yellow couch and watched her play for a while. Her tongue was sticking out of the corner of her mouth and her amber-colored eyes were focused intently on what she was doing, a piece of her hair had found its way across her chin and stuck there.
The basement smelled strongly of marijuana and mothballs. Monica knew that it was one of those smells she would remember forever because it was so odd. A mixture of sweet and savory. Ricky lit up his own joint after a while but he smoked it slower than Charlie.
“Want some, hun?” Ricky asked her, holding the sloppily rolled joint out to her.
Monica stared at it, the orange tip and brown-ish paper. “No, thank you.” She whispered, watching curls of smoke rise from the tip.
“Thank you, huh? She’s a polite one isn’t she, Chuck?”
“Mmhmm…” Charlie hummed and then slipped back into silence.
It was then that she remembered his promise not to smoke weed again and her breath caught. She felt her anger build and tears rise behind her eyes. He had promised her, pinky promised her. They both knew never to break a pinky promise, no matter how old they got. It was how things were. She felt like he’d just spit on sacred ground. Her eyes let go of their tears as she stared at him in a disappointed state of shock.
“What’s wrong?” Ricky asked, he was still sober.
“Hmm?” Charlie sat up. After a minute he noticed Monica crying and opened his mouth, then closed it again, and opened it again. “Moni?”
“You promised, Charlie.” She said gutturally.
“Huh?”
“You pinky promised.” When it took a while for Charlie to reply, Monica expounded. “You pinky promised you wouldn’t do drugs again.”
“Yeah. Yeah I did. But… what’s a promise, anyway?”
“’Oaths are but words, and words but wind.’ Samuel Butler.” Ricky said.
“Shaddup Ricky.” Monica shut her eyes tight and counted to ten to try and calm herself down. “Charlie…”
“I’m OK.”
“You promised.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m okay. Just don’t tell Ma and Dad okay?”
Then he laughed. Charlie laughed and laughed and laughed and Monica glared at him. She wanted to slap him across his stupid laughing face. With an irritated grunt, she threw the controller onto the ground and huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Hey!” Said Ricky, staring at the controller to see if there was any visible damage.
“I’m going to.”
“No!” Laughed Charlie.
“It’s just a little weed.” Ricky butted in, it was the same thing Charlie had told her last time.
He seemed the saner of the two so Monica turned to him. “No it’s not! It’s a gateway drug!”
“Oh, shut up. That’s all media hype.” Ricky uttered.
“I don’t care, it’s illegal!”
“It shouldn’t be. It’s perfectly safe.”
Charlie stopped laughing and stared at Monica for a long time, until she became uncomfortable under his gaze and turned away. “Monica, if you tell them about this, I’ll tell them about your little habit. Don’t be a hypocrite.”
This was blackmail. They both had too much on each other. The only option was to keep quiet.
The basement smelled strongly of marijuana and mothballs. Monica knew that it was one of those smells she would remember forever because it was so odd. A mixture of sweet and savory. Ricky lit up his own joint after a while but he smoked it slower than Charlie.
“Want some, hun?” Ricky asked her, holding the sloppily rolled joint out to her.
Monica stared at it, the orange tip and brown-ish paper. “No, thank you.” She whispered, watching curls of smoke rise from the tip.
“Thank you, huh? She’s a polite one isn’t she, Chuck?”
“Mmhmm…” Charlie hummed and then slipped back into silence.
It was then that she remembered his promise not to smoke weed again and her breath caught. She felt her anger build and tears rise behind her eyes. He had promised her, pinky promised her. They both knew never to break a pinky promise, no matter how old they got. It was how things were. She felt like he’d just spit on sacred ground. Her eyes let go of their tears as she stared at him in a disappointed state of shock.
“What’s wrong?” Ricky asked, he was still sober.
“Hmm?” Charlie sat up. After a minute he noticed Monica crying and opened his mouth, then closed it again, and opened it again. “Moni?”
“You promised, Charlie.” She said gutturally.
“Huh?”
“You pinky promised.” When it took a while for Charlie to reply, Monica expounded. “You pinky promised you wouldn’t do drugs again.”
“Yeah. Yeah I did. But… what’s a promise, anyway?”
“’Oaths are but words, and words but wind.’ Samuel Butler.” Ricky said.
“Shaddup Ricky.” Monica shut her eyes tight and counted to ten to try and calm herself down. “Charlie…”
“I’m OK.”
“You promised.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m okay. Just don’t tell Ma and Dad okay?”
Then he laughed. Charlie laughed and laughed and laughed and Monica glared at him. She wanted to slap him across his stupid laughing face. With an irritated grunt, she threw the controller onto the ground and huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Hey!” Said Ricky, staring at the controller to see if there was any visible damage.
“I’m going to.”
“No!” Laughed Charlie.
“It’s just a little weed.” Ricky butted in, it was the same thing Charlie had told her last time.
He seemed the saner of the two so Monica turned to him. “No it’s not! It’s a gateway drug!”
“Oh, shut up. That’s all media hype.” Ricky uttered.
“I don’t care, it’s illegal!”
“It shouldn’t be. It’s perfectly safe.”
Charlie stopped laughing and stared at Monica for a long time, until she became uncomfortable under his gaze and turned away. “Monica, if you tell them about this, I’ll tell them about your little habit. Don’t be a hypocrite.”
This was blackmail. They both had too much on each other. The only option was to keep quiet.