Licking my lips, I scan the crowd, but no Erika in sight, and tonight I’m desperate to find her. She has what I need most. Something deeply unsettling is corkscrewing itself inside me. A familiar feeling when I’m close to the edge and about to do something . . . stupid. I have no way of texting her. Didn’t bring my phone since I know Mom still has that stupid tracker on it and my weak “going to the movies with friends from school, might be home late” lie wasn’t exactly my best work.
What if she doesn’t show?
I follow the extension cord straight to a dining room filled with people. And standing behind the deejay setup is Yusef, his father’s speakers set up on either side of him. He looks . . . legit and in the zone. I hang back, watching him from afar. With his Beats headphones, laptop, and a lit-up turntable, he flawlessly blends hit after hit, the party loving him, the vibes chill, and for a moment, I forget that I’m in a dilapidated house and lean against a nearby windowsill. But within seconds, it cracks under my weight.
“Ah!” I scream, falling on my tailbone. Yusef’s head snaps in my direction. So does the rest of the party.
Nice, Mari. Way to keep it low-key.
“Cali!” Yusef says, helping me to my feet. “I didn’t know you were coming tonight. You okay?”
“Yup, yeah. Totally fine! I’m used to embarrassment,” I say, dusting myself off. “But, uh, is this place safe? The walls aren’t going to cave in or nothing, right?”
He laughs. “Naw, they have parties in here all the time!”
“Oh. Nice.” And I know it came out hella judgmental, but I’m still picking paint chips out of my twist out.
“Well, I’m glad you came,” he says, beaming.
I squirm under his joy and the curious eyes watching us.
“Hey, I heard about what happened at your house,” he says. “You want a drink?”
“Sure, but don’t you got to, like, work or something?”
“I left it on a mix, we should be good for a few.”
We walk through the crowd into the kitchen. Well, what used to be a kitchen since there’s clearly no appliances and barely any counters. Yusef pours us two vodka and orange juices. It’s the cheap stuff but definitely helps soothe my nerves. I’m not used to being at parties sober. Not saying I don’t know how, but I feel like an out-of-place puzzle piece. Or it could be the whole “house being vandalized, strange noises, neighboring house set on fire, lack of sleep, and some random girl playing pranks on my now-smashed computer” ordeal that has me feeling so . . . off.
Change is good. Change is necessary. Change is needed.
“Hey, you okay?” Yusef shouts near my shoulder. “You seem out of it.”
“Oh, yeah. I’m fine,” I say, faking a laugh. “Um, you’re pretty good at that music stuff.”
He grins. “For real? You think?”
“Yeah, I’m sure your dad is, like, hella proud of you!”
Yusef’s smile dims as he averts his eyes to sip his drink.
Damn, Mari, foot in your mouth much?
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean . . . well. I was just saying . . .”
“It’s cool,” he says, waving it off. “I actually saw him today.”
“Really? How is he?”
He shrugs. “The same. He got his whole squad up in there with him, so it’s not like he’s missing much. Except being with his family. But maybe someday he’ll get to see for himself how good I am.”
“He will,” I assure him. Knowing how close I am with my dad makes me want that so badly for him.
“Heyyyyy! You made it!” Erika bursts through the crowd. Eyes low, grin wide. “What up doe!” She dances in our direction, cup in hand.
I laugh. “What’s up?”
“This party is lit, Yuey,” she sings. “Glad they gave the kid a chance.”
“Yuey?” I repeat, raising an eyebrow at him.
Yusef groans. “Bruh, for the thousandth time, stop calling me that!”
Erika shrugs and slips a blunt from behind her ear, sticking it between her lips before lighting up, the sweet and tangy smoke puffing around us. My mouth waters. It’s almost pornographic how good she makes it look.
Erika notices me staring and smiles. “You want a hit?”
Tongue pulsing, I lean toward her. Yusef waves smoke out of his face.
“Nah, E, chill. She’s not into that.”
Erika purses her lips at him. “Did she tell you that?”
Yusef glances at me, as if to say, “Back me up here.” And I can’t. Because there’s nothing I want more.
“So? You want a hit or nah?” Erika asks.
My eyes toggle between the offered spliff and Yusef. He crosses his arms, eyes focused on me, and although I shouldn’t care what he thinks, it’s hard not to when his judgment is swallowing up all the air in the room.
“Um, yeah,” I say, a little too eagerly. “I mean, sure, why not.”
I grab the spliff, inhale hard, letting the smoke take up every corner of my lungs before exhaling with an “ahhh.” It hasn’t even had a chance to work through my system, but just having it in my hand makes me feel whole again.
Yusef snarls. “Yo, you really fuck with that shit?”
“It’s just a little weed,” I say with a shrug. “No big deal.”
“No big deal?” he shouts. “Tell that to everybody up in Big Ville!”
His bitterness is a cold slap in the face. I want to say something, defend myself, but nothing comes up.
“Yuey, chill,” Erika says. “Why are you coming for her neck?”
Yusef shakes his head, slamming his cup on the cracked counter. “I gotta get back,” he says dryly. “Later.”
He storms away, disappearing into the crowd without a second glance. Erika waves him off.
“Don’t sweat it, he’ll get over it. Big-ass sensitive baby.”
“Right,” I mumble, taking another hit to ease the guilt.
Okay, I know what you’re thinking. I still don’t know Erika that well and I shouldn’t be smoking at all and Yusef may never speak to me again, even though he’s been hella cool . . . but right now, after everything that’s happened the last few weeks, I need this hit more than anything.
I take another pull, letting myself float into outer space. The party light-years away.
Erika and I find a corner to post up, still in view of Yusef. He looks good. Really good.
Shit. Hope I didn’t say that aloud.
“I’m . . . hungry,” I mumble, licking my lips.
Erika turns to me, her eyes low. “Yo, do you realize that we have eggs inside us and lay eggs like chickens every month? We ain’t nothing but some birds. Being a chick is some wild shit, bruh.”
I stare at her and blink before a fit of giggles bubbles up. “Dude, what? Where did that come from?”
“You said you were hungry. And I want a steak and eggs. Hey, pass that roach.”
I hand over the blunt and sigh, letting my body dissolve into the wall. I wasn’t always this way, this desperate, this thirsty, the type of person who needed weed to maintain some sense of sanity. I can remember everything before we had bedbugs. Before every speck of dirt made me do a double take. I was once a normal kid, with normal cravings, like a casual drinker. But weed, it lifts the heavy anxiety that blankets all my thoughts and for the briefest of moments, I feel free of it all. No fixation or paranoia, no questions. Light as a feather, I float and keep floating . . . until I no longer notice life crumbling around me. Once you have a taste of that feeling, once you experience it, you’ll find yourself chasing after it for the rest of your life.