Roxy just moved to Chicago. And she may have met some stoners in her study hall class, who knows? Read it.
It was lunch time on the first day at my best friend Kristy's and my new school in Chicago, and it was already one of the worst days I'd ever tried to live through. Lunch time didn't even look promising, since I didn't even have it with Kristy. Instead of getting into the twenty billion mile long lunch line to buy some grub, I slid out into the courtyard behind the school and sat huffily onto a bench. There was one other guy out there, leaning against a pole and smoking something that smelled suspiciously of Mary Jane. I glanced at him. He was tall and lean, with platinum blonde hair that stood out in spikes every which way. He was wearing a black wifebeater over tan shorts and Chuck Taylors. The wifebeater showed off a tattoo of some weird sun-like thing on his right shoulder. I took my eyes off of him and blew out a breath as I lay down on the bench.
"How's your day going?" the blonde asked sarcastically. I smirked.
"This place is hell on Earth," I replied.
"No shit," he said. "You just realize that?"
"Today's my first day here," I said. He nodded.
"What year?" he asked.
"Same. Where are you from?" he asked.
"Damn," he said, "all the way across the country. That's gotta be an adjustment."
"Just a little," I said.
"Want one?" the guy asked, offering me a blunt. "It might help you through the rest of your classes." I sat up and studied the object he held out to me. Then I shrugged and took it. What the hell. I stuck it in my mouth and leaned forward so he could light it for me, and then I inhaled.
"Do you do this every day?" I asked. He shook his head.
"Only sometimes," he said. "Another kid was supposed to meet me out here, but he seems to have bailed."
I smiled. "So it's a social event then?"
He nodded. "Something like that. "Then he suddenly grinned. "I'm Tony, by the way."
His energetic grin was contagious. "I'm Roxy," I replied.
We sat there together, for the rest of lunch, talking and smoking up. When the bell rang he held up a spray can and sprayed me all over with citrusy-smelling stuff.
"So you don't smell like weed," he explained. I nodded. "What class do you have?" he asked.
I looked at my schedule. "Study hall," I replied, "with Mr. Limp." I chuckled. Mr. Limp.
"So do I," Tony replied.
"You do?" I asked, thinking that was a pretty crazy coincidence.
"I do today," he said. "And I will once I drop home Ec. I hate baking, but it's an easy A."
"Well, you don't get any credits for study hall," I said. He shrugged.
"Doesn't matter," he said. "I don't know how much longer I'll be here anyway."
I looked at him, alarmed, hoping he wasn't terminally ill or something. He smiled.
"Relax, I meant here at this school," he said. He held the door open for me. "Come on, let's go to class." I followed Tony to class, hoping he would stick around. So far, he was the nicest person I'd talked to at that school. No one there seemed very interested in talking at all. I walked into the study hall classroom and found it cluttered with dreadlocks, piercings, bloodshot eyes, tattered clothes...stoners. Tony turned and gave me a look that said, "Nobody's here." I smiled and looked at Mr. Limp. He was sprawled out on top of his desk, fast asleep.
"What do you say we go take a drive?" Tony asked. That was so not how I normally schooled it. I usually did most if not all of my homework, cut class a very minimal amount of times, and I'd never smoked pot during school hours. But I found myself smiling again as I followed Tony out the classroom door.