Page 40 of Before the Encore

She shrugged. “Weed is legal in California.”

“Not to smoke on the street.”

Madison waved her hand to the empty car park. “There’s no one here.”

Bonnie traced the hem of her hoodie. “What about the security inside?”

Madison blew out a breath. “Jeez. Do you ever stop worrying?” She took another hit before passing it back to Frank.

“No.” Bonnie sighed. “Not really.”

“That sounds exhausting,” Kam said.

Bonnie straightened, turning to Kam. “Does it really help calm your thoughts?”

She nodded.

“Maybe one drag won’t hurt.”

“Bad idea.” Madison blocked the joint with her hand. She knew what one too many hits could do to someone who wasn’t used to smoking—and Madison couldn’t afford to get puke on her one pair of shoes. Bonnie opened her mouth to protest, but ‘babysitter’ wasn’t on Madison’s list of jobs. Not since her sister grew up, anyway.

“What?” Bonnie huffed. “You’re always telling me to relax and have fun, and now you’re telling me not to.”

Kam and Frank eyed her, knowing smirks tugging at their mouths.

Madison sighed. “Fine. But don’t have too much. And you need to breathe it in properly. Don’t waste it. This is good weed.” She plucked the joint from Kam’s fingers as she went to take a drag and held it out to Bonnie. “Don’t just hold the smoke in your mouth. You wanna breathe it in here.” She tapped her chest.

Bonnie placed the joint between her lips, the tip glowing amber. Then she coughed, placing her hand to her mouth. Madison tutted.

“You need to breathe deeper. Feel it in your lungs before you breathe it out.”

Bonnie narrowed her eyes but tried again, this time exhaling smoothly. Smoke curled in the air around them. Her lips quirked. “It tastes funny. I thought it would taste like grass, but it’s a little fruity.”

“That’s the pineapple.” Kam bumped her shoulder. “She’s got a good palette, man.”

Madison shook her head, eyeing Bonnie taking another drag. This could get interesting.

Five minutes later, when the joint was extinguished and her head fuzzy, they headed back inside. Bonnie and Kam were deep in conversation about the best kind of potato, whereas Frank’s eyelids were barely open.

“Dammit.” Kam groaned, picking up an old crisp packet from the table and peering inside. “I’m hungry. And now I really want mashed potato.”

“There’s a twenty-four-hour diner near here,” Frank drawled, running a hand over his goatee. “I could demolish a stack of pancakes.”

“Dude.” Kam grabbed Madison’s arm. “Pancakes.”

“I’m in. You don’t need to convince me.”

Bonnie giggled, plopping onto the tattered sofa surrounded by the band’s empty cans. “Don’t you think hands are, like, so weird.” She inspected her own, flipping them over. “They all move separately like they have different minds, like a whole family living on the tips of your fingers.”

Madison chuckled, her head light and chest warm. She dropped down beside her, the squeak of the leather making Bonnie giggle again. “I think fingerprints are weird. They’re swirly patterns unique to us, our own walking artwork.”

“Woah.” Bonnie’s eyes widened. “I’ve never thought of it like that before. We are all walking artwork.”

Kam’s mind only had one thought when she smoked. “Bonnie, do you want some food?”

Her eyelids dipped, making her fingers dance a Mexican wave. “I think my legs are taking a nap.”

“We’ll catch up with you later then.” Kam put a hand on Madison’s shoulder. “You good?”