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Finn sighs loudly next to me and I nudge him with my elbow.
“Back me up on this,” I hiss, but he just stares blankly at me.
“Oh my god,” I say and then lean forward and smack my lips against his. “See? It’s not a big deal.”
My parents just stare at me, perplexed, and Finn closes his eyes, slowly shaking his head.
“It’s not normal, Landon,” he murmurs. “Kissing me like that.”
“Well, who said we were normal?” I reply, throwing my hands in the air. “Normal is boring and I mean, look around us. Take a good look. Does any of this look fucking normal to you?”
Vincent bleats again loudly as if in agreement.
Thank you, Vincent. You get me.
My parents blink and blink, too high for this conversation. So, I just link my hand with Finn’s and say, “We will be outside. When you’re sober, come join us.”
I pull my best friend out the backdoor and he chuckles as the cold winter air bites into our exposed skin. My lips turn up in a smile. Fucking ridiculous family.
“You shouldn’t have done that. Their brains are mush right now. They will think they conjured it up. It’s going to fuck with their minds and with how you guys never actually talk about things…” he snorts. “They’re going to be so confused.”
“Well, maybe we should make out and really throw them for a loop. That could be fun.”
He sighs and pulls me into him, threading his hands through my shoulder-length hair and pressing his cheek to the top of my head.
“That sounds like a terrible idea.”
“Even if it were to fuck with their minds?” I ask, peeking up at him.
His eyes meet mine and he wets his lips. “Yes, even to fuck with them. It’s a terrible, awful idea.”
“Hmm,” I say and then press my cheek to his chest. “I’ll think about it. I think I can convince you to do what I want.”
He huffs. “You always do. I don’t know why I even bother fighting it.”
I turn my head to glance at the shed. Speaking of…
“Want to smoke too? I mean, what else is there to do? If we go inside, my dad might rope us into a project.”
“Yeah, but being high when your parents are high is never a good idea.”
“Yes, but when has that ever stopped us?”
Without even waiting for his refusal, I pull him to the shed on the far end of the property.
When we enter, the scent of weed and soil permeates the air and I push Finn down into one of the camping chairs before moving to grab a joint from the cabinet.
I light it up and take a deep inhale, ignoring the other chair across from him and plopping down in Finn’s lap. I hold the smoke in my lungs while gently cupping his jaw in my hand, pressing my lips to his, and exhaling slowly.
Our lips brush softly as I let the smoke pass from my mouth into his.
He inhales it, our eyes locked, and I watch as his pupils dilate in the dim light.
One of his hands slides around my waist, his pinkie slipping under the hem to caress the skin of my stomach and I lean further into him.
I offer up the joint and he takes it from me, placing it between his lips and inhaling deeply. He leans forward and presses his lips against mine.
The smoke shifts into my mouth and I move against him to get a better angle, threading my hands through his hair, holding his open mouth against mine.
