Highbridge Rising | #ONC2024

Chapter Six- Pizza

The evening sky draped itself in hues of deep, velvety purple, accented by delicate wisps of pink that danced among the billowing clouds. Nightfall was imminent, promising a clear and tranquil night ahead. As the descending sun lingered on the periphery of my vison, I exhaled a steam of smoke, an attempt to confine my addiction to the open air outside this cube of an apartment. With the aid of a small pink fan, I battled against the persistent odor of the tobacco, hoping to evade any detection, especially by my little brother whom I shared the same bedroom with.

Beside me, a pack of my cigarettes lay dormant on the window ledge, its contents dwindling to a mere three remaining. I had entertained the thoughts of quitting countless times before, yet each time, the allure of nicotine proved too potent to resist. This time, however, I resolved to make it different. This would be my final pack.

I reflected on how my smoking habit had taken root at the age of sixteen, when pilfering cigarettes from my mother's stash became a clandestine ritual among my friends and me. Perhaps, I mused, it was time to explore alternatives like chewing gum or something.

Brining the cigarette to my lips, I inhaled deeply, the smoke filling my lungs like a rush of bittersweet memories. As I leaned out the window, a sizzling sound echoed, the ash crisping on the edge of the bud, nearing its end. With a slight tilt of my head, I seized the miniature fan, its gentle breeze aiding my efforts to expel the smoke into the night.

A sudden ping jolted me from my reverie, and I swiftly retrieved my phone from my back pocket. Sammy's face illuminated the screen accompanied by the urgent message: "Call me."

My heart plummeted as I contemplated the myriad of worst-case scenarios. Dread coiled in the pit of my stomach-had there been an accident? A speeding ticket? The party was just a stone's throw from our block, and whole Sammy possessed a learner's permit, she lacked a car of her own.

Regret gnawed at my insides as I debated whether to return Sammy's call or light up another smoke. I extinguished the smoldering ember in the ceramic mushroom shape ashtray dish, hiding it over the folds of our curtains from eye view. But before I could muster the courage to dial her number, my phone sprang to life with Sammys image emblazoned across the screen. With a swift swipe, I answered the call.

"What happened? I demanded, my words clipped with tension, the distant thump of music pulsating in the background.

"I'm so sorry, Cam, please don't be mad," Sammy's voice trembled with anxiety, her words a tightrope stretch taut between panic and remorse. She only ever used my nick name if it was serious.

I fought to contain the torrent of emotions surging within me, striving to keep my voice steady. "Tell me," I urged, my adrenaline-fueled fury barely contained beneath the surface, as I paced the small room in a whirlwind of agitation.

Before I could unleash my pent-up frustration through the phone, a cascade of giggles erupted in the background, mingling with Sammy's laughter like a bubbling brook merging with a playful stream. "Nah, I'm just messin' with you," she declared, her voice a buoyant melody that washed away the tension knotting in my chest.

Releasing a breath I hadn't realized I was holding, I felt the grip of anxiety loosen its hold on my body. "I was literally going to murder you over the phone," I confessed, my nervous chuckle attempted to mask the lingering adrenaline rush.

More laughter echoed through the receiver, a chorus of mirth that enveloped me in its warmth. "We just pulled up at the party, it's lit for sure," Sammy announced amidst the din of excited voices. In the background, Kara's voice rang out, followed by a cacophony of chatter that blurred together in a symphony of anticipation. "But I wanted to know what time you wanted me to meet you tomorrow morning, 'cause the girls decided we're all gonna crash at my place."