Young Writers Society

Under the Influence

We were bound together like a rope that holds a boat to a dock, thick and strong, slightly frayed but still never breaking. We were so close that people swore we were sisters, not that we looked that much alike psychically but our minds were like one, mine picking up the pieces that went over her head and she figuring out the things that were too complicated for me to understand. I believed our brains were fused together, that she knew all my intimate thoughts that I tried to hide and that I knew hers because in all honesty we did.

"Pass the pipe, Avery," I demanded through the haze of smoke that was so thick that it almost hid her face from view but then I waved my hand through it and there she was, smiling with the pipe to her lips. Our faces matched, both of us wearing the same coy smile, hers a little coyer, and our eyes lidded with dark makeup so we had smoky eyes, compliments of her talented hand.

Avery shook her head as she sucked in, pulling smoke in through the pipe like it was the only thing that allowed her to breathe. She pulled and pulled then she held; her eyes closed and the same smile on her tightly pressed together lips that quivered a little, threatening to burst. She opened her eyes and walked closer, bringing her lips just inches from mine, dragging me closer by placing a hand on the back of my head.

I smiled, already knowing what she was doing. I parted my lips as Avery’s grazed mine, blowing smoke into my mouth. "We can't waste," I could remember her saying, her voice echoing from the first time I smoked weed.

I opened my eyes and grinned at her, not even remembering closing them but I was completely trashed and half-baked so it didn't really surprise me. It was a miracle my feet could move one in front of the other but I think that had something to do with Avery and the invisible string that always kept us connected.

She tugged at the bottle that I had been clutching, raising her eyebrows when I held a little tighter then smirking as I loosened my grip. She brought the bottle to her lips, pouring the straight vodka down her throat like it was water which is what it probably tasted like at that point and time, we had become so accustomed to drinking, a frequent occurrence every weekend, that I was amazed we still had livers.She drained the bottle then tossed it against the pavement, letting it smash with a satisfying shatter.

I was partly annoyed that she got to finish the bottle, that she got the pleasure of throwing it against the asphalt but I had started it, and drank way more than she did, so I didn’t complain.

“Where is it to again?” I asked as she lit the pipe again, the scent of weed billowing up as the smoke rose from the little glass object.

She pointed her head towards a patch of the trees up ahead. “In there somewhere.”

I nodded then side glanced at Avery. She was carefully watching me, the pipe nowhere near her lips. She could sense it, my hesitation that I was trying my best to hide. “Is he going to be there?” She asked me. It came out sounding like a question but it was a statement, we both knew he would be there. We, him and I, were so much alike in that way, never missing an opportunity to get plastered, attending every party so we could drink to the point of barely standing.

“Listen, Raya he’s a dick. Ignore him.”

And just because Avery said it I knew I could. I’d go to the party, drink and talk to my friends, the whole time pretending he was just another tree who had no effect on me.

Avery’s hand lightly grasped my arm, making me stop walking as she placed the pipe in front of my lips. “Suck,” she commanded.

I grinned and breathed in.