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Her cruel grin stabs into me as the panic strangles me. I shake my head, backing away.
“Wait, is that a lot?!”
Padma snorts. “Mate, that’s like smoking twenty joints. You’re going to besofucking high.”
I blanche, feeling pure fear grip me.
“Oh my God, this is going to beepic,” Cora wheezes out, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.
I turn, bolting out of the kitchen and down the hall to the bathroom. I drop to my knees in front of the toilet, bracing myself and trying to coach myself before I jam a finger into my mouth. I choke, gagging before I yank my finger back out.
I take a deep breath, trying again to make myself vomit and eject the drug-laced chocolate I just ate. But again, all I can manage is a horrible gagging sensation. I try once again, crying now as I try so hard to throw up.
But it’s not going to happen. I know it’s not, because I know I seem to be incapable of making myself throw up.
A year ago, Julianna and I decided to try bulimia for some stupid reason. Jules tried it twice before declaring it was the worst thing ever.
I couldn’t even make it happen once. I literally cannot make myself throw up.
At the moment, that’s a serious problem.
I keep trying, over and over, but after ten minutes, all I have is a headache, sore abdominal muscles, and a raw throat. I’m shaking as I slump on the floor against the wall, yanking my phone out. My hands tremble as I type out “can you die from marijuana” into Google.
Apparently, you can’t, which allows me to take a breath before I search deeper. You can’t die, but youcaningest way way too much and get terrifyingly high.
Fear grips me as my face pales. For a second, I think about calling an ambulance. I mean I can’t make myself throw this up before my body starts to process it. But, a medical responder could, right?
I jump at the pounding on the bathroom door.
“How’re you doing in there,Snoop Dogg?” Cora snickers, Padma giggling in the background.
My heart races, my face pale and terrified.
“I think I need to call an ambulance!” I blurt.
The two of them burst into more laughter.
“Yeah, great idea!” Cora calls through the door. “There’s absolutely no way your mum or my stepdad would ever find out about a fucking ambulance coming to our house because you were on drugs,” she cackles sarcastically.
“I’m not—! Yougaveit to me! You didn’t even tell me—!”
“If you snitch, we’re both going to call you a liar.”
“Yeah,” Padma jeers. “Plus, Noel likes us.”
Cora snickers. “Yeah, and hehatesyou. Imagine when he comes home and finds you high as a kite?”
Tears streak my face as I hug myself on the bathroom floor.
“Oh, shit, and he and your mum are both going to be home pretty soon,” she giggles. “They’resogoing to know you’re high!”
The panic is almost overwhelming. So much so that I try twice more to make myself puke. Cora and Padma just start to laugh when they hear the gagging sounds.
“Too late, Ella,” Cora calls through the door. “It’s definitely already being digested. Better hold on tight!”
I scramble up from the floor and yank the door open. The both of them grin at me as my face pales to white.
“What do I… how…” I choke on a sob. “Cora, I’ve never done pot before!”
