Page 27 of Wicked Sins

It’s about half now—sipping at it keeps me from fidgeting. Fidgeting makes me look nervous. I don’t want to look nervous.

I recognize some of these guys from Josiah’s football practice. Most of them, in fact. Here, the downstairs music is little more than a thumping bass line. Instead, therattatattattattaof live ammunition and the screams of the dying pierce the air—I really wish someone would ask the gamers to turn down the volume, but I’m apparently the only one bothered by the noise.

A guy comes up to us and holds out a joint to Sean. Sean doesn’t even hesitate. Cool air moves against my side as he sits forward to take a few pulls at the weed.

“Eric,” the guy says, sticking out a hand. “I’m friends with your brother.”

I dip my chin a little and shake his hand reluctantly. Shit. I guess there was no way Josiah wouldn’t have found out about me being here, but what are the chances I’d run into one of his friends?

I didn’t even know hehadfriends. It’s not as if he ever invites anyone over to the house and, outside of football practice, I’ve never even seen him talking to anyone at school. I thought he was a straight-up loner.

Like me.

“Nice to meet you,” I say, extricating my hand as soon as I can without seeming rude.

Sean passes the joint, not bothering to look in my direction. A tiny trail of smoke drifts from the tip as he holds it a foot away from my face.

“Jo here too?” Eric asks, reaching for the joint when he sees I’m not taking it.

I get to it first.

I know I shouldn’t mix. The alcohol’s already put me on my ass. But I’ll be damned if anyone thinks I’m a wet blanket, especially if this gets back to Josiah. I want him to know exactly how much fun I’m having.

“Please,” I say through a forced laugh. I take a sip from my drink first, and then gently tug at the joint. Acrid smoke spills down my throat, and I do my best not to cough. “He’d freak if he found out I was here.”

“Yeah, he would,” Sean says, speaking without exhaling. When he does, a cloud of smoke obscures Eric for a moment. “He’s a fucking pussy. If it’s not school or football, he’s not interested.” Sean barks out a laugh as he takes the joint from my unresisting fingers. “Bet he’s still a fucking virgin.”

It shouldn’t, but the comment stokes a slow swell of irritation inside me.

“It’s not him, you know,” I say, lifting my chin and making it sound like I actually know what the hell I’m talking about. “It’s his dad. That guy’s like super,superstrict.”

“Really?” Eric says. He comes to sit beside me, and that forces me closer to Sean. “Fuck, I haven’t seen Mr. Bale in years. He used to come to all of Jo’s games. Guess he’s too busy banging your mom, hey?”

My cheeks catch alight. “I guess,” I mumble.

They lean back, passing the joint behind my back. It’s like they’re communicating—I can feel Eric’s muscles tensing as if he’s gesturing at Sean.

But a second later, they’re both sitting normally.

Duh—weed makes you paranoid. Idiot.

I smile into my cup as I take another sip. Damn, it’s hitting me faster than I remember. I’ve smoked before—some nights I couldn’t get to sleep without it—but since I’ve been at Josiah’s house, I haven’t touched the stuff.

It must be top shelf stuff too—my body grows lethargic, heavy, warm.

“That’s good shit,” I say, the words traveling through numb lips.

My spine melts, settling me back on the couch. I’m faintly aware that someone takes away my cup moments after something cool and wet spreads on my jeans. It takes monumental effort on my part, but I eventually manage to look down.

“Shit,” I say. “I made a mess.”

“It’s okay, babe,” Eric says, laying his hand on the large wet spot on my thigh. “We’re all friends here.”

“Yeah, but…I shouldn’t have smoked,” I say through a giggle. “That shit’s strong.”

“What, the weed or the crack?”

My heart thumps hard against my rib cage. Panic swells and then dissolves a moment later. “What?” I turn my head, squinting at Eric. “What did you say?”

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