Secret Society in School- part 3

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I pressed the unlock button on my keys, and opened the door. I sat in my driver’s seat, threw my bag in front of the passenger seat, and hooked in my iPod. I thought about just hitting shuffle, trying to get back home for Friday so I sleep. I put the key in the ignition, but Dave and my new friend Greg from California jumped into my car. “Tommy, bro how’s it?”

“Uhh, Good. Don’t really got anything planned since its Friday, no meeting for our study group. You?”

“We need someone to drive us for a pickup. Can you give us a ride?”

Never shunning my boy Dave, “Sure. Where?”
“I’ll put it into your GPS for ya.”
“What are you picking up?”
“Haha, uhhh, our order.”
“I don’t get it.”
“Tommy, you little fucker. Our bud order.”

Ohhh, they’re picking up bud. And I’m driving. Sweet.

“Oh, uh, sorry. Not really into that shit.”
“No big. You cool to drive?”
“Yeah man, yeah.”

I drove there checking nervously behind me every ten seconds no cops were tailing, I don’t know why though. I was crazy paranoid. My leg kept twitching and I think I was breathing really hard.

“You okay bro?” Greg asked.
“Y—Yeah. Kinda.”
“Here. Chill out bro.”

He hands me a cigarette. Once the car stopped at the red light, I looked at him in the back seat.

“Chill man, it’s straight. No one gives a shit and your car’s got no stickers on it. No one can tell you’re in high school man, chill the fuck out.”

“Okay man.” He stuck a blue lighter in my cup holder, and when I parked in front of the apartment complex they needed to pick up in, I light it. After I exhaled, it felt pretty good, actually. My muscles relaxed, my eyes widened, and my legs untensed. I could feel the stress of school melt away. And we didn’t have a meeting today, so I couldn’t fuck the stress away. And goddamn was I horny. I took a look at the cig after two longs drags, and flicked the ashes out the window. I did it like I saw my uncle do it, between the fingers. No one people liked these, it was kind of cool. My phone vibrated in my pocket. It was Heather. Shit.

I looked at my phone, and read a text.

“God, I wish there was a meeting today.” She texted.

True shit, I thought. I clicked reply, and texted, “Yeah, I’m dying right now.”

I saw Dave and Greg walking back to my car, and saw her text, “Wanna chill?”

I looked at the phone. I wasn’t gonna be weird and scared, I thought. “Sure,” I wrote, “where can I pick you up?”

Dave and Greg sat back in my car, bumped fists while laughing, and put Greg’s bag in front of their seat in the back. “Where you guys wanna go back?”

“Drop me off at home with Dave.” Greg said.

I dropped them off, and when I was slapping Dave bye, I felt a small bag in his hand.

“That’s for you, man. Enjoy your weekend, haha.”

Nice. Weed.

“Thanks man. You too bro.”

I went to my phone, and saw Heather wanted me to pick her up from school. I headed back, blasted some music, and pulled up in the circle after flicking the cig out five minutes before. I waited for like twenty minutes before Heather came out, jogging with her backpack and team bag. I hopped out quick and grabbed one of her bags from her, and opened the doors for her. I threw both bags into the back, shut the door to the back, let her in the front, and closed her door. When I did, she smiled through the window. The walk around the car took forever. I was so fucking scared. Don’t mess this up Tom. Don’t fuck this up Tom. Don’t fuck it up Tom. Tom, you fucker.

I opened the front door, sat in the seat, and closed the door, clicking the seatbelt.

“Do you smoke cigs?”

Tom, you mother fucking fucker. You fucked up already.

“Uhh, no. It was Greg. New Greg.”
“Aww, Greg! Greggggy.”


“Yeah. Him.” I said.
“What? Greg’s a good guy.” She replied.

I mean, I guess he was. Girls seem to enjoy his presence.

“Did you try the cig?”
“Yeah,” I said, “It was okay I guess. Red’s are okay.”
“I was gonna ask if you could get me one, I like one every now and then.”
“Sorry. Next time, I promise.”

She reached for my iPod, and I didn’t notice, until she said, “What flavor?”

I had no idea what she meant, until I looked at her, holding my gram Greg gave me. Well I’ll be damned, she’s into weed as well.

“No clue. Greg gave it to me. You smoke?” I ask.
“No, not really. My sister used to be a huge pothead.”

We drove to a Starbucks, and I bought her a latte. We sat in my car, seats back, talking while enjoying our drinks. I played some music in the background really light, and I was having a great time. I was in the club for two days, and I felt ...

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