by Ember Leigh
“You already know. Food poisoning.”
Gen frowned. “I mean for real.”
Cobra sighed. “Red, it’s too early to get this heavy. Let’s have some fun first, at least.”
Hope sparked in her eyes. “Okay. What do you wanna do?”
Cobra wracked his brain for the most opposite thing he could imagine. The type of activity that Red would suggest, if she weren’t so eager to receive him at her apartment. The type of thing that he knew would make her light up like a firecracker.
“Let’s check off another item on your list.” He knew exactly where to start. “I think it’s time to go scream ‘fuck’ off a mountain.”
Chapter 29
Cobra and Gen took turns screaming “FUCK!” into the golden sunset over Los Angeles until their throats were raw. At first when people wandered by, Gen clammed up, claiming she didn’t want to be vulgar. But after a while, Cobra convinced her to throw all her fucks to the wind.
Her auburn hair moved in the breeze as she threw her head back and laughed. He wrapped his arms around her, bringing her back flush against his chest. She fit against him like a puzzle piece. One he’d known was missing but had forced himself to not look for.
He pressed his mouth to the back of her head as they stood there, swaying, looking out over the distant buildings of downtown LA. He knew better than this. Relishing sweet moments like this, with a sweetheart like Gen—they didn’t belong to a man like him.
But it was hard to pull away.
Impossible, actually.
“Got all your fucks out?” he asked, looking down at her. A dimple flashed as she smiled up at him. Her face radiated joy. Like looking at a child playing in the rain. But she was all woman, too. She might have started out green, but she was ripening up now.
“All of them and then some,” she said. “This is so nice, Cobra. Can we never leave?”
“Sure.” He surveyed the outcrop they stood on, her hips pressed to the steel railing so they didn’t topple off the edge of the outlook. “We’ll buy a tent and stay here. Until the cops kick us out, I guess.”
She giggled. God, he’d never get tired of hearing that angelic laugh. “And even that would be fine. I need to get arrested once, I suppose.”
“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”
“You’ve been arrested?”
He shrugged. “Here and there.”
“Jeez, Cobra.” She ran her fingertips over the length of each finger in turn, like tracing the pattern of him. “There’s nothing you haven’t done.”
He smirked. “Nah, there’s plenty I haven’t done. Trust me.”
“Name one thing.”
He groaned, burying his face in her hair again. The silky threads calmed him. He never wanted to leave this spot—she was right. “Let’s not play this game.”
“Come on. Name one thing.”
He sighed loudly, then brought his lips to the shell of her ear. “Fine. I’ve never gone to church.”
She stopped swaying, twisting back to look him in the eye. “Seriously?”
Disbelief etched itself deep in her face. His stomach gave a warning twist. This might have not been the right place to start with the confessions. Maybe it would make her change her mind about him. Maybe he was testing to see if she’d accept him anyway. “Yep.”
“Do you want to go?”
He shrugged. “Not really.”
She turned back to the sunset, smoothing her hands over top of his. They resumed the slow sway, and then finally, she said, “Yeah. Me neither, anymore.”
“Haven’t you been to church every day for your entire life?”
“Basically.”
“So why not anymore?”
This time, Gen sighed. “I don’t know if it’s right for me. I’m having a crisis.”
“Yeah, I saw that when you borrowed The Infidelity of the Bible at the library.”
She laughed, swatting at him. “Don’t judge my book choices.”
“Not judging.” He hid his grin in her hair, cinching her tighter against him. “Just saying.”
A few moments of comfortable, perfect silence passed. True silence. The kind that calmed the maelstrom that roared almost 24/7 in his head. When Gen spoke, it startled him.
“Do you believe in God?”
She’d tilted her head to look up at him, crystalline honesty shining in her eyes. He stopped swaying.
His stomach turned into a stone. “No, Gen. I don’t.”
She frowned and looked back out over the cityscape. But he could tell that he’d disappointed her. A heaviness settled between them. One that felt like he’d stepped in wet sand.
“You’re the first person I’ve met who doesn’t,” she said quietly.
“Well, I think there are a lot more of us in the world.”
She surged forward suddenly, disconnecting herself from the warm seal of their bodies. She exhaled loudly, turning to him with a bright face.
“I know what we need to do now.”
The dopey grin returned. He could feel the silly curve of his lips. “What?”
She leaned close, pressing her lips to his while she mumbled, “I want to smoke weed.”
“You’re shitting me.”
She shook her head softly, so it didn’t break the brush of their lips. “Nope. I want to.”
He clutched her by her lower back, bringing their bodies back together. The warmth of her against him was a relief. “So I’m the bad influence, huh?”
“Maybe.” She tilted her head, the late sunset hue glinting off her pale skin. Making her glow. Like the angel she was. “Or maybe I’ve been a bad influence in hiding all along.”
Cobra pressed his forehead to hers. “Naughty.”
“I’ve been waiting my whole life to be naughty.”
“And will you be naughty forever now?”
She smiled, but didn’t look amused. “Until I move back home, I suppose.”
Gen turned then, confronting the sunset once more, allowing Cobra to fall deep into her words. Until I move back home. He’d never considered the possibility that she’d go back to that. To the people who had driven her away. And if she went back to them…what did that mean for him?
“Let’s go,” Cobra said, tugging at the belt loop of her jeans. “Our parking meter is probably up by now.”
They walked down the dusty path in silence, and Cobra fought to keep his anxieties at bay. They’d put a time limit on this…thing, whatever it had become. But even so, once three months were up, he’d counted on her still being around. Accessible. Available.
Any thought to the contrary sent a cold fear snaking through him. One he didn’t even want to think about, much less confront.
Back at Gen’s apartment, she led him straight into her bedroom. She shut the door behind him with a determination that he didn’t dare test.
“Okay,” she said, resting her hands on her hips. “I’m ready for toking.”
He smirked. “That’s not exactly what you say when you wanna smoke up.”
She sighed, throwing herself onto her bed. “I would say I want to learn how to say it, but I have a feeling this will be my first and last time trying it.”
Cobra dug out the tiny pipe and stash he had buried in his back pocket. Easing onto the bed next to her, she watched him like a med student studying a surgery.
“What’s that?” she said, pointing at the slender one-hitter he had in his hand.
“The pipe.” He packed a little bit of already ground weed into the end. “This is what we smoke out of.”
She snorted. “No way.”
“Have you ever smoked anything before?”
She shook her head.
“Okay then. This is gonna feel weird.” He held it up so she could see. “And it might hurt your throat a little. But watch.” He flicked the lighter and brought the slender end of the pipe to his lips. He took a curt inhale, held the smoke, and met her gaze as he let the wisps escape his mouth in a slow, controlled
exhale.
“Do I have to do it just like that?”
“Inhale. Hold. And exhale.” He passed it to her, butterflies in his belly like his first time all over again. She took the lighter from him and then the pipe.
“I don’t know,” she murmured. Gen flicked the lighter, and then again. It didn’t light.
“I’ll do it,” he offered.
She nodded, lifting the pipe toward her face. Then he brought the flame to the end. She furrowed her brow, scowling at the pipe, and brought her lips up to the edge. But she faltered.
“Inhale,” he said.
She rounded her lips around the tip and then shied away again.
“Come on. It’s ready.”
She dove back in, taking a deep inhale like he’d instructed. But she must have rallied every last ounce of courage, because she hit the pipe hard. The tip burned white hot for a moment. And then mere seconds later, Gen coughed. Coughed so hard a lung might’ve come up. Cobra hadn’t heard anyone cough like that since he was fourteen. He lunged for the glass of water at her bedside, offering it between gasps.
Gen chugged the water, and the coughing subsided. She flopped back onto the bed.
“You okay?” He propped himself up on an arm, peering down at her. She stared at the ceiling, her porcelain skin more beautiful than normal in the golden hue of the bedroom. She was about to get high.
“Yeah.” Her voice came out a croak. She blinked slowly, her fingers drifting up to find his forearm. Her mouth parted but she froze there, like a thought had gotten stuck on its way up.
“You sure?” His gaze drifted down the olive-green shirt tied in a knot right at her belly button. He dragged his fingers over the slice of skin visible, then over the belt loops of her light denim shorts.
“Yeah.” She sounded dreamy. Distant. Her gaze cut to him, and she froze there.
And then she giggled.
Cobra smirked. Here we go. “What’s so funny?”
Gen giggled again, covering her mouth with her hands. Her whole body rocked with laughter. “I don’t know!”
Cobra lay on the bed beside her, staring up at the ceiling. His own high was subtle. But he’d been smoking for so many years, weed for him felt more like background noise. Something he could smoke and not notice, and still go about his day.
“I think you’re high,” he said.
She snorted and then broke into more laughter. She rolled onto her side, burying her face in his shoulder.
“Oh my god, everything is so funny,” she wailed.
“Man. I miss those days of smoking weed.” He scooped his arm around her, bringing her into the crook of his shoulder. She snuggled up to him, sighing contentedly.
“You’re not giggling like a freak,” she said. “Why’s that?”
“Red, weed for me is like blood.”
“Like…weed instead of blood?” She had that tone in her voice like he’d just blown her mind. It made a laugh erupt out of him.
“Like…are you fucking serious right now, man?” he joked, in the classic stoner voice. “There’s a meme for how high you are right now. I’ll find it later.”
She giggled again, burying her face in his side, which tickled his upper ribs. He jerked, snorting.
“Damn, Red. What are you, a gopher?”
That set off another round of laughs. “A gopher!” she wheezed. “Like…what if I used to be a gopher and you used to be a gopher?”
“Is that some past-life shit?”
She inhaled sharply. “That makes sense, though. If you really think about it.”
His cheeks hurt from smiling. “Yeah. Sure. I mean, if you say so.”
She rolled onto her belly, pushing up onto her forearms. Her eyes were wide. “No, but seriously.” She gathered a fistful of his shirt, as though this would force him to understand her. “Like…rodents.”
His body shook as he tried to contain his laughter. “Yeah?”
Her amazed gaze drifted away, and then she dissolved into another fit of laughter. It only grew stronger, until she was shrieking with laughter and shaking her head. Finally, she screeched,
“I don’t even know what I’m laughing at! But I can’t stop!”
Cobra dissolved into laughter alongside her. It didn’t even matter. Fact was, they were laughing together.
It was the together part that clinched it for him.
Chapter 30
Hours drifted by this way, caught in the sweet, sticky web of laughter and jokes and complete, unhinged bullshitting. Cobra had never felt so damn free. Or light. Or happy. The hangout sesh moved to the kitchen, where the two fell into an elaborately slow dinner prep. Every move was tempered with a joke or a break to snort-laugh. Gen could barely cut the bell pepper straight. Mushrooms popped out from Cobra’s grip and tumbled across the kitchen. When Gen opened the bag of rice too hard, rice flew everywhere. She even found a piece in Cobra’s hair, which of course made them laugh harder.
They fed each other slightly-scorched pieces of bell pepper and chicken while sitting cross-legged on the couch facing each other. Shit like this was nice. No, it was more than nice. It made his heart hurt. Made him start to believe it could stay a regular thing, which was maybe the worst part of it all.
Cobra asked if she wanted to smoke again while they ate; she agreed, and she hit the pipe one more time, with less coughing and sputtering afterward. When she returned to her food, she moaned appreciatively.
“I don’t think we’ve ever made anything so tasty before.”
“That’s a stoner secret, Red.” He forked a piece of chicken into his mouth. “Weed makes everything taste better. Even if it’s half-burnt.”
“So, do you smoke before every meal?”
“Nah. I used to smoke a lot. Now it’s just…when I’m with someone who wants to.”
“Like me.” A giggled rippled out of her. “Oh no, the giggles are coming back.” A few wracked her body, and she pressed her index finger beneath her nose, like blocking a sneeze. When it passed, she sighed, popping a piece of broccoli into her mouth. “This is fun. I see why people smoke.”
“You think you ever will again?”
She shrugged. “Maybe with you. But not anyone else. I don’t think it would be as fun with anyone else.”
He fought the warmth that spread through him. Because he didn’t deserve that designation. “Aw, come on. Smoking is fun with anyone.”
“Yeah, but stuff is more fun with you.”
The innocence behind her words made him avert his gaze. They’d finished eating, so he took their bowls to the sink. When he came back, Gen watched him with a dreamy look on her face.
“Can we go back to my bed? I’m kinda tired.”
A small voice inside him urged him to dip now. Just go home. He’d spent too much time with her. Gotten too close. Going to her bed now would only sweeten the pot. Make it that much harder to end this thing, when the time came.
But he couldn’t stay away. Not today, at least. Maybe he deserved one long, sweet, uninterrupted reverie with her.
“Yeah. Let’s go lay down.”
They wandered down the hallway hand in hand, as if they were venturing forward into the unknown on a romantic date and not inside the familiar surroundings of her apartment. Gen filled his vision. The face that would forever be etched into his heart. The sweetness that made him ache. The trust that she had for him, so monumental and undeserved he didn’t even know where to begin.
She climbed onto the bed first and he followed suit, spooning her automatically. A plan they’d made without even speaking. She snuggled into him, the heat of her reassuring. He pressed a kiss to her shoulder, registering the firm squeeze in his chest.
It was official. He didn’t ever want to leave her side.
He swallowed a knot in his throat and lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. They needed something to temper the gulping swallow of silence. That was when his mind had free rein to run rampant. Even Gen at his side might not combat that.
“This is amazing.”
“Another stoner secret,” he said, propping himself on an elbow. “Music and weed go pretty fucking great together, too.”
“You stoners have all the secrets to life, then, huh?”
“A few.” He ran his fingers along the length of her arm, then laced his fingers through hers. “You might have the rest of them.”
“So together,” she said, voice slow and dreamy, “we have them all.”
He pressed his lips to her shoulder. Together. A word he didn’t even like to think about. He didn’t belong together with anybody. Not anyone beyond Klay and Tyler. The only people who knew where he came from. Why he was so fucked up…and would accept him anyway.
Cobra stayed silent, letting his eyes drift shut as the music played on. Nobody spoke for a long time. He fell into a deep trance, equal parts napping and ruminating. Thoughts drifted around in his head, new ideas for sketches, old conversations, the perfection of Gen at his side. When she spoke, he couldn’t figure out if minutes or hours had passed since they’d lain down.
“Hey, Cobra?”
“Yeah?”
“Why do you live with those guys if you don’t like them?”
The question came like a punch in the gut. “I like them fine.”
“But you wouldn’t even let me in the door.”
“They’re not always nice.”
“So why do you live with them?”
He swallowed. “We’ve been friends for a long time. I met them when I went through some bad shit.” They’d all been in the same foster home together. And the three of them had escaped together, too. Started selling drugs together. Found an apartment together. Entered adulthood together. “They were there for me. And we sorta…grew up together.”
“He that walks with wise men shall be wise: but a companion of fools shall be destroyed.” Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. “That’s from the Bible.”