We take turns passing the joint back and forth, the Milky Way galaxy sparkling in the sky like a painting.
Did I just get a reverse harem ending?
Yeah, yeah, I think I just did.
I just hope that this really is the happy ending to my story, and not a blip in a horror film set on a course for disaster.The pot makes us all a bit drowsy, but after a few ours of smoking and napping and talking about stars (and aliens, lots of alien talk up there), we force our asses up for some food. Because if there’s one emotion that can take control over drowsiness when you’re high, it’s that feeling you get when you know you have the munchies.
“It’s not fair that everything tastes so much better when you’re stoned,” I groan, pressing my back against Tobias as we cuddle in the blankets and try to gauge just how long it’s going to snow before the weather chases us off the roof and back inside the warmth of the dorm.
“It’s totally fair,” Micah groans, falling back onto the mattress. “I look forward to that part of being high. Otherwise, I’m not sure I’d even bother.”
We polish off most of the food, quickly giving into the thick white blanket of snow that’s soon covering the roof. Most of the stuff we just leave out there to get later, but everyone grabs a pillow and we head back inside.
The attic door is, thankfully, still open and we all manage to get down the ladder and tuck it away before Ranger closes the hatch behind us.
“Snacks for the room?” he suggests with a shrug, and I grin.
“Most definitely. I hate being high without constant access to food. Like, we just ate, but I’ll be ready again in ten.” I take Ranger’s hand and we head downstairs, the other four boys following behind us. We haven’t even turned the corner to the kitchen when we hear the sound of footsteps, followed by the slamming of a door.
There’s a shout and a grunting sound, like there’s some sort of fight happening outside the kitchen. The twins exchange a look and then take off, pausing near the side door and looking out at a very bizarre scene.
It’s Nathan, the night watchman, subduing Eddie, the janitor.
Eddie has a weapon of some kind—a knife, I think—that Nathan deftly wrestles from his grip, spinning Eddie around and then pinning his arm against his back before he drops him to the ground completely. Nathan very clearly has martial arts training, beyond just that little bit of karate that showed up on the background check Ranger ran.
The men are arguing, but I can’t hear what they’re saying.
What I do notice are a pair of silver cuffs that Nathan produces, handcuffing Eddie, and then leading him down the path in the direction of the main building.
“Either this weed is crazy strong, or we just saw something interesting.”
“Oh, it’s not the weed,” Church tells me, staring after the men as they disappear around a bend in the path. “But it looks like Nathan just arrested Eddie. Didn’t Jack say something about a portion of the staff being involved in the Fellowship?”
“Do you think we just found one?” Spencer asks, but even Church isn’t sure enough to answer that question just yet.I’m flying sky-high when I step into the cute, little suburban house where my mom is staying. And that’s a metaphor, not a literal interpretation of the flight I just took from New York to Los Angeles. Dad had a flight attendant spill a drink on his shirt which I sort of took as karmic justice. We both could’ve been on the Montague’s jet instead …
“Charlotte!” Mom says, appearing in the tiled front hall in a red dress with a white apron over it. She opens her arms and I set my bags down, so I can give her a hug. Dad’s lingering behind me, like he isn’t sure he’s comfortable here. He insisted on staying in a hotel, but Mom promised there’d be plenty of room at her place and he caved.
She’s always had that sort of influence over him. I used to be jealous, but not anymore. It doesn’t matter what the relationship is—platonic or familiar or romantic—but some people just click better than others. Mom and Dad click, but apparently not in a romantic way. Dad and I just don’t click at all, but we still love each other.
Life is complicated.
“And remind me which of your many boyfriends this one is?” Eloise asks with a girlish giggle that makes me roll my eyes. If she were serious, I’d be pissed, but she just very clearly doesn’t understand my relationship with the Student Council. That’s cool though. She doesn’t have to understand it, she just has to respect it.
I smile and keep my mood upbeat. After all, she’s kept herself clean and sober since that incident at Christmas last year. I couldn’t ask for anything more.
