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He was speaking cursive. Nothing made sense yet it all made perfect sense. “I feel good.”
“They ate an entire bowl of gummies.” Darnell said, looking down at us. “They’re high as fuck.”
“Microphone!” I yelled.
“Yes!” Barrett grabbed me and shook my entire body. “That’s it!”
“Darnell has a microphone!” I snorted, unable to stop laughing.
A bunch of people gathered over us, staring down as they formed a circle.
I suddenly stopped laughing. “Whoa. Am I dead? Am I looking up from the grave?”
Next thing I knew I was sitting on a bench outside of a twenty-four-seven quickie mart eating an ice cream cone. “I love ice cream.”
Barrett sat next to me, turning his own cone to lick around the edge. “I like when there’s a little chocolate surprise at the end.”
I snorted and doubled over in laughter. When I caught my breath, I looked around. “How did we get here?”
He paused and cocked his head. “I don’t know.”
I shrugged and continued licking my ice cream. “Do you think there was something in that tea?”
“Like what?” He gasped. “Aw, man, I hit the chocolate prize. Yes!”
The lights inside the quickie mart were really bright. Every few seconds they flickered and hummed. “Do you hear that?” I swatted the air around my ear.
“I hear everything,” Barrett said, covering and uncovering his ears. “I hear Taylor Swift right now.”
“I always hear Taylor Swift.”
“Let’s go find her.”
We were up and moving. Then we were standing in front of the clerk at the counter. “Is Taylor here?” Barrett asked.
The man at the counter frowned. “You’re back.”
“We’re looking for T-Swift. Tell her Davenport and Fickledump are here.”
“What the? Am I Fickledump? What does that even mean?” But Barrett had moved on to the chip aisle and left me standing over there. “Hey, I thought we were a team, man! You don’t leave a bear out in the woods with no coverage, you got me? There are spies everywhere!”
“Quiet.” He struggled to open a bag of cheese puffs.
I snatched it out of his hands. “You have to pay for that first or we’ll go to jail!”
“Hey, I’m workin’ ova’ here!” He looked around. “Whoa, it’s daytime in here.” Then he gasped. “I hear Taylor Swift. Come on!”
I followed him to the front of the store and smiled at the cashier, slowly pushing the cheese puffs toward the register. “Hi.”
The clerk rolled his eyes and sighed.
“Is this Tay-Tay?” Barrett asked, looking around for a speaker.
The clerk pointed to the radio by the cash register. “This is The Red Hot Chili Peppers.”
“Oh, man. I was way off.”
I shook my head with the sobriety of an Olympic judge who just witnessed an epic fall. “Way off.”
