Glass (Crank 2)

He takes off in search of drinks.

Meanwhile, one of his bandmates

comes up. Hi. I’m Jeremy.

You’re Quade’s old friend, huh?

I’m not sure why, but I smile

a come-on smile. [Way to go!]

“Well, I’m not that old, but we’ve

known each other a long time.”

That was a lot to say with

cotton-mouth, and Jeremy

has a clue what that means.

Now it’s his turn to smile,

and now I know where

this evening could go.

Partying with the band? Isn’t

that every girl’s dream?

It Was a Definite Party

And one that went way too late,

especially considering I was

the one donating most of the ice.

Quade didn’t touch it, but his buds

all did. He watched, more than a tad

disapprovingly, but never said a word.

He drank. A little. Smoked pot. A little.

But no meth, and no tobacco. Bad

for the vocal cords, he claimed.

I did it all. Enjoyed doing it all,

surrounded by three decent-looking

dudes and one who resembled

a raccoon, with black circles