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‘So you just expect me to let him die?’
‘Archer is an entirely different person when he’s on it.’ He doesn’t let go of me. ‘Approach him about it tomorrow. In fact, it’s better if you stay away from him tonight altogether.’
I try to break free.
Chase looks furious. ‘If you go in there, I will sling you over my shoulder and carry you home.’
I know it’s not an empty threat. I know Chase can carry me just fine without breaking a sweat. I hate myself for wanting to struggle just so he can carry me home, and I shut down the thought immediately.
‘Fine.’ I yank out of his grasp and storm past him, towards where Dale sits near the cabin.
Chase takes the seat opposite me. From his hoodie pocket he produces a really fat fag.
I’ve never seen him smoke.
As he sparks it, a pungent smell comes from it.
I wrinkle my nose. ‘Is that… weed?’
He looks at me through the smoke, and my toes curl. ‘Do you mind us smoking? We can go over there—‘
‘No. It’s okay. It smells nice.’ I pause. ‘Can I have some?’
Chase chuckles under his breath. ‘Absolutely not.’
‘But it’s my decision.’
‘It’s my weed, and I’m saying no.’
‘Why not?’
He takes another drag. ‘You’re drunk.’
‘I’m not. I haven’t even had a sip of alcohol.’ I throw the cup I’m holding over my shoulder, and then I run to pick it back up because I’m not a litterer.
‘Pleeeeeeease,’ I say.
‘Ask me again tomorrow.’
‘But I’ll be sober tomorrow.’
‘Exactly.’
I make a frustrated sound. ‘You’re so infuriating.’
He smiles.
‘Weed isn’t even that bad, though,’ I point out. ‘Everything’s just hilarious and you get munchies.’ Okay, so maybe I got my knowledge from Kai, but it’s still a viable source.
‘You can still whitie,’ Dale supplies unhelpfully. ‘Right, Chase?’
Chase groans and tips his head back to stare skyward.
Dale laughs. Chase hands him the joint without looking at him, and I zero in on my new target.
‘Daaaaaaale,’ I say. ‘Can I—?’
‘Dale?’ Chase raises his head.
