Page 71 of Flirtasaurus
We sit on Ralph’s sleeping bag, his arm still wrapped around my shoulder.
“You both should know,” I warn, “that drugs and I don’t get along very well. I’ve done pot exactly three times in my life. And each time was a shitshow of epic proportions. The first time, I got so paranoid, I sat on a stool in the middle of a party, covering my face with my hands and crying while everyone laughed and took pictures of me. I still don’t know if I was paranoid and only imagined they were laughing at me, or if they were laughing at me because I was paranoid. The second time I did pot, I got naked and performed repeated backflips into the pool at my friend’s family graduation party.”
“Atta girl!” Otto says.
“Otto. It was afamilygraduation party.”
“Oh. Well. Some people are too uptight.”
“Finally, the third, and last time I ever did pot—”
“Smoked pot. Not did pot.”
“Don’t correct me right now, Rolph.”
“Don’t call me Rolph, Cally-ope.”
“So,” Otto interjects. “Are you kids sleeping together or what? Because there’s so much groovy energy bouncing between you.”
“The third and last time I everdidpot…” I decide to steamroll right past Otto’s question. “Oh man, I don’t think I can actually say this one out loud.”
“Sure, you can,” Ralph coaxes.
“I’ve never told anyone this. It’s just so shameful.”
“You can tell us,” Otto encourages. “You’re amongst friends.”
“AM I, THOUGH? I’VE JUST BEEN DRUGGED!!!”
“Kid, you thwacked my thermos out of my hand when I clearly was trying to keep it away from you and—”
“Otto, shhh. It’s okay. Everything’s okay,” Ralph croons. Otto’s shoulders instantly relax, and that crease between his eyebrows smooths itself away. The same thing happens to my shoulders and creases whenever Ralph speaks. The dude just has such a way of soothing everyone around him. Me especially. “Callie?”
“Yeah?” I answer on autopilot.
“Go on. What happened on the third and last time you did pot?”
He gestures for me to continue.
Here goes nothing.
“It was the summer between high school graduation and the start of college. I suppose I should have learned from the naked backflips incident, but it seems I did not. There was a sleepover at my friend Sasha’s house, and I ate one too many pot brownies.”
“How were they?”
“They were fucking delicious, thanks for asking, but apparently not enough for my munchie-crazed self. All the other girls passed out, but I was still wired. And hungry as hell. So around four o’clock in the morning, I checked to make sure everyone else was truly asleep, then I tiptoed down into Sasha’s parents’ epic open-concept kitchen with a farm sink and breakfast nook and shiplap everywhere you looked. And this was before Joanna and Chip Gaines came on the scene, so damn, Sasha’s parents were always ahead of their time. Anyway. I… ransacked the shit out of the double-wide stainless steel refrigerator. It was like an All-Calliope-Can-Eat Buffet. You know how when you were a kid, everyone else’s parents always had better food options than you had at your own house? Well, this was definitely the case here but multiplied by a hundred. I ate what should have been my fill, but no, high-as-hell Calliope had one more crime to commit. You know what I did?”
“Ooh, I can’t wait.” Otto rubs his hands together.
“It’s awful, Otto!”
“It can’t be that bad,” Ralph encourages.
“I ate the entirety of their seven-year-old daughter’s bagged lunch, which was packed for her class trip to Dorney Park the next day. Ham and cheese sandwich. Capri Sun. Cheddar Bunnies and everything. All gone. There was even a love note from her mommy that I crumpled up and threw in the trash to hide the evidence.”
“Ooh, that is low,” Ralph says.
“YOU THINK I DON’T KNOW THAT! KEEP THE DRUGS AWAY FROM ME!!”
