“Carter can mind his own damn business!” I snap, suddenly so angry I want to resume my session with the punching bag.
Chloe stares at me, a knowing gleam in her eyes. “E, I don’t claim to understand the weirdly silent, strange dynamic you share with my brother… but I do know him pretty well. And that’s why I can tell, when he spends thirty minutes complaining to me about how inconsiderate you are, keeping him up night after night with your nightmares… it’s code for him being really fucking concerned about you.” She shrugs lightly. “He’s not great at expressing how he feels. Maybe that runs in the family. But obviously, if it was important enough for him to come talk to me about… I wasn’t about to blow it off. I had to make sure you were actually okay.”
“Like I said: I’m fine.”
“Uh huh.” She takes another long hit from her blunt. It’s silent for a moment as she lets the smoke roll around inside her lungs, then blows it out the corner of her mouth in one long, mesmerizing stream. “Can I say something without you going allwow-wow-wowon me again?”
Sucking in a gulp of air, I take a seat beside her on the stack of mats and stare down at my dark grey workout pants. “Consider the phrase officially retired from my vocabulary.”
She pauses, and I get the sense she’s searching for a delicate way to phrase her next words — which is so opposite her usual bluntness, I feel a few nervous butterflies burst into life in the pit of my stomach.
“Just spit it out, Chloe. You’re starting to scare me.”
“Okay! Jeeze.” She flicks the end of her blunt and a small shower of sparks falls to the floor. “Do you realize the only time you get worked up like this… the only time youeverseem to lose your shit completely… is when we’re talking about my stupid brother?”
My mouth opens. Closes. Opens again.
“I mean, every time I bring him up in conversation you get this weird look on your face… and your whole body goes tense…” Her eyes slide to mine. “Kind of like you’re doing right now.”
With considerable effort, I force my muscles to unclench. My attempt at a carefree smile feels horrendously transparent. “Chloe, it’s not…”
“Look, I’m not an idiot. I have eyes. And Carter acts the same way whenever I talk about you.”
He does?I think, stomach somersaulting.
“So, I guess I’m just wondering… why?” Chloe’s curious gaze moves over my features. “Why are you and my brother so damn skittish around each other? If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were in love or something.”
My pulse is roaring between my ears. I search for a response —anyresponse — but I can’t seem to come up with anything. At a loss, I reach out and pluck the blunt from Chloe’s hand, lift it to my mouth, and take a long hit.
The smoke blasts into my lungs like a freight train. A freight train carrying bricks of charcoal, to be more specific, because I feel like I’ve just swallowed half the contents of a furnace. A violent cough explodes from my mouth, searing my throat raw as puffs of smoke vacate my body.
“Whoa there, slugger,” Chloe says, removing the blunt from my grip and patting me gently on the back. “The first time you smoke, you decide to take the biggest hit of all time? Not a genius move, but I give you points for gusto…”
“Why—“ I gasp. “Would anyone—” Another gasp. “Ever do that—” I cough again. “Willingly?”
“If you inhale properly, it doesn’t burn your throat. And the aftereffects are quite enjoyable…” She lifts the blunt to her mouth, holding it delicately. “Like this — watch me do it.”
My eyes track her movements; the light purse of her lips, the way her cheeks go hollow as she sucks in a small breath. When she passes the joint to me once more, I take it with hesitant fingers.
“Slowly, this time,” she says, watching as I make my second attempt. “That’s it — not too much at once! Now hold the smoke in your lungs for a few seconds, let it work some magic…”
Unable to withstand the burning sensation in my chest, I cough out a gulp of smoke. Thankfully, it’s far less violent this time. My throat still feels like an ashtray, but at least my eyes aren’t watering too badly.
“Much better!” Chloe praises. “You’ll be a pro in no time.”
“I doubt that.” My voice is a croak.
“Practice makes perfect.”
We pass the blunt back and forth a few more times, trading off hits. By the time it burns down to nothing, I’m not coughing at all. In fact, I’m remarkably relaxed. The whole world has gone rather fuzzy at the edges.
As I look around the empty, fluorescent-lit gym, a dopey smile spreads across my face.
Was it always so pretty in here? I never want to leave! Look the shiny floors! The super high ceilings! And all those different dumbbells!
Ha.
Dumbbells.