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“Well, it was your idea!” Michael adds.
“You encouraged him!”
“I did not!”
“You did, too!”
“I did not!”
“Guys!” Lyndsey yells, “Show me the edible.” She holds out her hand and Apollo hands her the offending candy bar like he’s a kid who got caught with contraband by the teacher.
She studies the label, “Okay, so it says there’s 10 mg per piece, how much did he take?”
“One piece,” Henry says.
“Okay, that’s not so bad,” she grabs my elbow and I get lost in the myriad of colors in her brown eyes.
It’s much too simple to call them brown, so dull and dreary. Her eyes have strands of gold, inky black … her lashes are feathery like a peacock.
She’s so beautiful! And I get to marry her next week if I ever come down.
Oh, fuck. What if I’m like this forever?
When I was in secondary school the gym teacher who taught health class would always warn us against drugs by saying that bad trips are a train we can’t get off of; is that what this is?
“Vince,” Lyndsey grabs the sides of my face with her hands.
I love the heat of her hands, it’s warm and soothing. I can feel the flesh of my cheeks settling against the callouses on her palms.
“Vince, look at me,” Lyndsey demands. No problem. I lose myself in her eyes again.
“You’re gonna be okay,” Lyndsey says slowly. She enunciates every syllable as if she also knows that her teeth are forced to live their lives defenseless against the elements.
“Am I, though?” I mumble.
“Yeah, babe. Let’s get you inside,” Lyndsey says softly.
She loops her arm around my waist and ushers me indoors. Violet whines when she sees me. She sniffs my hands, and I pet her long nose. She has such a weirdly shaped head. God, I love her. Violet sits on my feet. The weight of her body feels good against my legs. She wraps her tail around my feet, grounding me. My heart, once frantic trying to claw its way out of my chest, starts to slow.
“Good girl, Violet,” Lyndsey says, “Way to help your dad.”
“Now, why don’t you tell me how your night went? It’ll take your mind off it,” Lyndsey suggests. She and Violet shepherded me over to the couch. I sit down, but it feels like I’m about to melt into the couch cushions.
Lyndsey brings me a glass of water from the kitchen, “Drink this, and then tell me about your night.” I down it in one gulp, desperate to flush this feeling out of my system.
“It was great, but now my face is melting and you’ll have to marry a faceless monster next week. Oh, Christ you’re marrying a fucking lunatic,” I lament.
“Hey, your face is still firmly attached to your head, and I knew I was marrying a lunatic when I told you yes,” Lyndsey jokes.
I smile at her, but I can feel every muscle in my face.
“What if it’s always like this?”
Lyndsey sighs, “Well, you’re not gonna feel stoned forever, but I will always be there to help you out, got it? In sickness and in health or whatever.”
Lyndsey kisses my forehead and musses my hair, I duck out from under her hand, “Watch the hair!”
“If you’re still protecting your hair, you’re not too far gone,” she says.
