I take two puffs, letting the mist drift down my throat. Honestly, I hadn’t thought of that. But even if the knob fell on its own . . . I know I wasn’t alone in that bathroom.
Damn, I really wish I hadn’t smoked that last blunt.
“No. Sammy, someone was there. There was a hand. . . .”
“Well, it wasn’t me.”
The thought hits us separately and we turn to Piper’s open door.
Piper stares back at us from the edge of her bed, legs swinging. She doesn’t say a word, but something makes it clear she’s not even the least bit curious about what’s going on.
She already knows.
Five
TAMARA’S BRIGHT SHINING face pops up on my MacBook screen after the third ring.
“Dude! Finally!”
“Hey, hey,” I say, closing the door. “What’s up? Service is still hella shitty but at least I can communicate with the outside world. Feels like it’s been forever!”
“Dude, it’s been decades!”
“Centuries.”
“Millenniums.”
“Eons!”
We laugh, and I notice a silver stud twinkle on her right nostril. A new piercing? Why did she wait until I was gone to do that? Did she go with someone else? Another friend? I scratch the inside of my arm and check my skin.
FACT: Bedbug bites appear as red, itchy bumps on the skin, usually on the arms or shoulders. Most bedbug bites are painless at first, but later turn into itchy welts.
“OMG, your room is huge,” Tamara says, looking past me. “It’s like three times the size of your old one. Are you guys rich now or something? I thought writers don’t make any money.”
“Shut up,” I say, throwing popcorn at the screen.
“So! How’s the rest of the house?”
“It’s nice, I guess, but kindaaaaa creepy. Feels like I’m sleeping in someone else’s bed, in their sheets, the toilet seat still warm as if they just took a shit. And I swear at night, I can hear things moving.”
She chuckles. “You sure it’s not just the fam or Bud?”
“No way. Even Buddy’s on edge. And it doesn’t help that we’re surrounded by all these old decrepit houses. Oh, hey, before I forget, my dad said you can come visit us in LA during Christmas break.”
“Um, yeah. I’ll have to see,” she says, avoiding my eyes as she checks her phone. “You know my entire family comes around then, so . . . you know how it goes.”
Tamara has approximately one billion cousins, aunts, and uncles. I miss the warmth of her home, her mom’s rice and beans and Mexican creamed corn. Living so close to one another, we were more like family than best friends. But I at least thought she’d be able to come for a few days. She knows I can’t go back to Carmel . . . maybe ever.
“Anyway, so what else’s been going on? And what the hell happened to your face?”
I give her the rundown of the last week, including being knocked out by Yusef.
“Dude, he was totally hitting on you, literally! I mean, he talked gardening, that’s practically foreplay. Better than David’s cornball ass.”
“DON’T say his name.”
Tamara blinks. “Sorry. Habit.”
The fan above my head spins with a click, underscoring the awkward silence. I clear my throat and change subjects.
“And of course, Piper is as annoying as ever.”
“That’s what little sisters are supposed to do, silly. But what are you going to do about your . . . uh . . . other problem?”
I lower the volume on my computer and lean closer. “You mean my lack of bud? I don’t know. But from what I’ve read, drugs definitely hit this city hard, so I’m bound to find a hookup at school.”
“Maybe your new boyfriend could help,” she teases.
I point to the welt on my face. “Dude, this is not the best way to start a romance.”
“You’ll have a funny story to share on Insta for your one-year anniversary.”
“I rather take my chances with strangers.”
Tamara sighs. “Just . . . be careful, Mari. You don’t want to get caught up again.”
“I wasn’t caught up, Tamara,” I say, hard. “I was poisoned.”
“Um, yeah. Right, sorry. Hey! You know . . . why don’t you grow it yourself!”
I tilt my head to the left. “Dude, are you baked right now?”
“No, seriously, I was watching some show on YouTube about weed farmers, how they turned their backyards into the garden of good and evil. You could be your own supplier! Then you wouldn’t have to worry about getting it from some stranger.”
“Dude, I can’t grow weed in my backyard. Mom would kill me!”
“Who said anything about your backyard,” she smirks. “You said you’re surrounded by empty houses. Choose one.”
For a moment, I’m dumbstruck by the brilliance of her idea.
“I can’t . . . or . . . well, I would need the right supplies. . . .”
“Ha! And it seems like you know the right man to give them to you.”
I swallow, unable to hold the thought back any longer.
“Well . . . have you seen him?” I ask begrudgingly. “The cornball?”
Tamara nibbles on her lower lip, braiding her shiny black hair. “Just online. Track practice started up this week.”
“What! They let him back on the team?”
“Well, um . . . he did make regionals last year.”
“So did I! And I’m twice as good as that asshole!”
She shakes her head. “Why don’t you just join the team there? You’re fast as shit, they’ll probably let you walk on with no prob.”
I hesitate. “Nah.”
She chuckles. “Okay. Then what are you going to do?”
Nothing. Absolutely nothing. After the past few months, all I want is freedom. Doesn’t mean I want to go out partying at some raging kegger, smoke myself up to the moon. Just means I want to not be under my parents’ thumbs 24-7 for a change. That’s why the more chill I seem, the more chill they become, the more freedom I win.
The bedroom door clicks and slowly creaks open. Tamara frowns, leaning in to see past me.
“Uh, Mari . . .”
“Yeah, I know. Doors open here on their own all the time. The contractor said they’re just ‘old locks.’”
“Um, holy Ghostbusters, Batman. That’s not normal.”
I sigh. “I know.”
“Piper, you feeling okay?” Mom asks. “You look a little . . . tired.”
Mom watches Piper play with her cereal, a twinge of concern in her eye.
“I’m fine,” she spits.
Piper does look tired. I’ve never met a ten-year-old with bags under their eyes. She also looks paler and slightly on the thinner side than I remember. Not that I’ve paid much attention to her.
As I slip on some shoes, my phones buzzes on the counter.
“It’s Dad!” Sammy says, and presses accept. “Hi, Dad!”
“Hey, Dad,” I say. “You’re on speaker.”
“Heyyy! Trying to catch you guys before the first day of school.”