Page 81 of The Doctor's Truth

“Pot brownies?” I hiss. “You made her pot brownies?”

Jason lifts his hand in a half shrug. “She’s been having trouble keeping food down, so—it’s medicinal! It’s fine!”

“No, it’s not fine! You need to…put a sign on them! You can’t just have pot brownies lying around!”

Jason chuckles. “Holy shit, dude. You’re going to be fun.”

I groan and put my head in my hands. “I’m fucked. I’m so fucked. I’m going to be sick.”

I feel Jason’s hand on my shoulder. “Hey. Maybe this is God’s way of telling you to chill out, go with the flow—”

“I don’t want to flow!” I snap at him. “You poisoned me!”

“It’s not a big deal. You used to get high all the time when we were kids.”

“When we were kids!” I grab him by the collar of the shirt and bring him in close—I’m bull-seeing-red mad right now. “This might come as a surprise to you, but it’s not my idea of a good time to be stoned in front of my boyfriend’s dad!”

Those blue eyes widen, and a small smile climbs his lips. “Am I your boyfriend?”

“That’s what you got out of that?” I hiss.

“Is everything okay…?”

We stop and turn to see Kenzi standing in the middle of the room.

She’s wearing a white shirred dress with a frill trim. Lace flowers pattern the skirt, which stops above her knees. The neckline draws a V to her breasts and ties off into a sweet little bow.

She’s breathtakingly beautiful, and for a second, my chest tightens and my heart beats faster and my throat closes. And I don’t think it has anything to do with the edibles.

Probably.

Kenzi blinks at us, confused. “What’s going on?”

“He ate the pot brownies.” Jason points at me, the boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Kenzi’s mouth falls into an “Ooooh.”

A sharp stab of anger between my ribs. That voice in my head: Everyone’s having a good time, and as usual, you’re fucking it up.

“I’m fine!” I snap. “You look like a fucking angel! Jason’s ready! Let’s go while I can form sentences!”

I genuinely mean the compliment, but I’m too pissed and bitter, and my mouth is full of silverware, spitting knives.

“Do you want to go?” Kenzi asks.

“Yes. No. I don’t know.”

Kenzi frowns. Then she steps over to the table, picks up a paper napkin, and plucks a brownie from the pile. She tears off a corner and pops it in her mouth. “Solidarity,” she explains.

I don’t know why…but that does help. My heart, which is bouncing around my chest like a cat on a 2:00 a.m. rampage, finally starts to slow down.

I exhale, and the breath takes some of my rage with it.

“Okay,” I decide. “Let’s go.”

40

Jason

The King Estate is the biggest private residence on Hannsett Island.

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