mother to me than she is.”
“I’m sorry for what I said, about you staying messed up all the time.”
She gave me a wavering smile as she swallowed and stared out across our lake, her expression dark. “I’m sorry for what happened.” She wrapped a skinny arm around my shoulders and I leaned into her. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you. Why don’t you go upstairs and take a shower? I know just the thing to make you feel better.”
I stared at her suspiciously, her angry look now replaced with a smile. A shower sounded glorious, so I agreed, trudging upstairs to the bathroom Lucy and I shared.
After letting the shower work out the tension in my neck and shoulders, I dried off and slipped on my favorite worn concert T-shirt and cotton shorts. I was sitting on my bed brushing the knots out of my hair when Lucy entered the room with a mischievous grin on her face. Throwing the brush on my vanity, I gave her a questioning frown. Her hands were behind her back.
“Rue, I’d like to introduce you to my friends.” She held out two bowls of our favorite ice cream. “This is Ben and Jerry. But I’ve got one more friend for you to meet.”
I took the ice cream from her hands while she reached into a pocket and produced a clear baggie full of dark green weed.
“This is my friend, Reggie. Reggie, this is Rue.” Lucy spoke to the bag of weed in a serious tone, gesturing toward where I sat on the bed.
“Lucy, I’m not smoking weed. I never have and I never will,” I said, shaking my head.
The thought of eating the super sweet ice cream caused my stomach to roll, but I took a tentative bite anyway, moaning around the icy goodness.
“I know you don’t smoke, you judgmental whore, but listen to me for just a second.” She plopped down on the bed and opened the bag. The smell of weed found its way to my nose, which I wrinkled in disgust. “Reggie is here, willing to be your best friend. He’ll never mistreat you or do you wrong. And he’ll make you feel so good. Way better than that train Ben and Jerry is running on you right now.” Lucy’s eyes lit up. “Besides, weed is good for nausea, you know.”
I snorted. “Like you’re really concerned about my stomach.”
Lucy stuck out her bottom lip, pouting. “Pleeeease?”
“No way.”
She left the room, only to return a moment later with a pineapple flavored cigar and a pink and white cameo brooch that had once belonged to our great-grandmother. Lucy popped open the metal pin and cut a slit across the cigar, dumping the tobacco into the wastebasket near my desk. She rolled the weed expertly in the cigar, licking the edge and pressing it together as she finished.
Rolling my eyes, I dropped my bowl of ice cream on my desk and wrenched open the sliding glass door that led out to my tiny balcony overlooking the lake. A fat, white moon hung over the water signaling the late hour, and I wondered when our psychotic mother would return home.
Lucy joined me outside, sitting across from me on one of the two plastic chairs. She used her favorite lighter, the tie-dyed one I’d gotten her on her last birthday, to seal the blunt, running the flame along the outside of the cigar. Lucy took a deep drag, holding the smoke in her lungs forever before releasing it between pursed lips.
“That’s so much better.” She exhaled dramatically, wagging her eyebrows up and down while leaning back in the chair.
I frowned, hesitating as she took another drag and offered me the blunt.
“Come on, Rue.” Lucy laughed, blowing the smoke out of her nostrils with each chuckle. “Everyone’s doing it.”
“You’re the poster child for peer pressure.” I sighed, an internal debate waging in my mind.
What could it hurt to try it just once?
Taking the blunt awkwardly in my hand, I made myself a silent, solemn vow; I’d smoke this one time, and never again.
Lucy sat up, excited at the prospect of her stiff, older sister getting high with her. She began babbling about