Chapter Eighteen
Jo
“I don’t want any more.” I hand the joint back to my sister and exhale. “My head feels light and I need to be able to have a conversation with Mom and Dad.” My own words make me push off the wall, wide-eyed. “Do you think they’ll know I’m high?”
“You cannot possibly be high, Jo. You took half a hit of this.” She looks at me. “This is medicinal.”
“Yeah, for your anxiety, not for mine.”
“You don’t have anxiety.” My sister presses the tip of the joint to her lips and inhales.
“My anxieties lie completely on our parents right now. First I was arrested and then this? They’ll kill me.” I start pacing. “Dammit.”
“Here. Put some Visine in your eyes. It’ll be fine. This is supposed to help you relax, not panic.”
“I’m not panicking but this absolutely does not help me relax.”
“You’ve only done it twice.” Misty laughs.
“Yeah. And look at what happened the first time.”
“You walked in on your roommate screwing someone else.” She shrugs a shoulder, exhaling. “That’s what happens when you move in with a hot guy.”
“Misty, this is not funny. I’m seriously freaking out right now.” I swear my heart is racing extra fast. Is that normal? I pull out my phone and Google it. “Apparently it’s normal.”
“What’s normal?”
“Dude, are you not listening to me?”
“Jo, you’ve been quiet for the last five minutes.” She eyes me curiously. “Maybe you shouldn’t talk to Mom and Dad after all.”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you.” I put my phone in my back pocket. I look at my car, then at the back door, then take the bottle of Visine she’s handing me and apply a drop in each eye. I blink and blink until I think maybe I’m less high. Jesus. I only took one hit of that thing. Never again.
“I’m going back inside,” Misty says.
“What?” I gape at her. “I can’t go back inside yet.”
“So, wait for me out here. I’m getting hungry and we missed dinner by now. I’ll go grab us some plates and stuff.”
“Okay.” I breathe in and out. “I’ll wait here.”
When Misty goes inside, I start pacing again and focusing on breathing deeply. That has to help, right? Yes. Deep breaths. I keep pacing. The door opens quickly, or at least I think quickly, and I turn around ready to say so until I see Jagger. I take an exaggerated step back, even I know I’m being weird, but he looks good, like really good, in black slacks, a white button-down, and a black tie. He left his jacket inside, but his normally wild dark hair is brushed perfectly to the side and his face is shaved and smooth.
“You look really good,” I blurt out. The response I get, his lip pulling up slightly and his eyes dancing, makes my heart leap.
“Thank you, Josephine. I think that’s the first nice thing you’ve said to me in years.” He raises an eyebrow and shoves his hands in his pockets as he reaches me. “Why are you out here all alone?”
“Um . . . I was with Misty. She’s getting food.”
“To bring outside?” he asks in a slow voice that makes me wonder how dumb of an idea it was after all. It seemed like a perfectly normal thing to do just minutes ago.
“Yes?”
“You don’t sound so sure.” His eyes are still dancing. My heart is still hammering.
“I’m high.”
“What?” He chuckles. “Right now?”
“Yes.” I nod. “I can’t go back in there. My parents and Bobby . . . ” My eyes widen. “Oh my God. Bobby. I forgot about him.”
“Who cares about him?”
“Is he still inside?”
“Yes.”
“He’s probably waiting for me to give him my number.”
“Why would you want to give him your number?” Jagger scowls.
“Because he’s cute.”
“I thought you were done dating athletes?”
“I am.” I blink. “I told you that?”
“You did.”
“Hm.” I purse my lips. “I’m really thirsty.”
“What?” He barks out a laugh, it’s a low laugh and it’s short-lived but oh my God it sounds so nice.
“I’m parched.” I put a hand on my throat.
“Give me a moment.” He shakes his head with a sigh, walks back to the door, and disappears inside. Unlike Misty, he’s back outside in a second with a bottle of water. He hands it over. I take it, uncap it, and down half of it in light speed.
“Thanks so much.” I breathe out when I cap it and lower it. “Water is so good.”
“It is.”
“It’s so sad that so many people don’t have access to it. Did you know that?” I feel myself frown. “I mean here in the United States people don’t have access to clean water. That’s insane.”
“It’s very sad,” he agrees.
“And then you have major assholes like Lawrence who are about to become millionaires and will never do anything about it.” I cross my arms.
“What does . . . ” He shakes his head and looks away. “So, you and Bobby.”