Mess To Be Made

12

Homecoming week was about as I expected it to go.

Blake and Rory, Sean and Casey, and Daryl and Elsa hosted all of the contests. Which left me, Cory, Ezra, and Gabi to our own devices during most of the events.

"You've never smoked?" Gabi asked Ezra with pure disbelief as the four of us hung out behind the cafeteria after school while the three other couples emceed the '90's best dressed contest.

While I did smoke occasionally, I was nowhere near as experienced as Cory and Gabi. They were both daily smokers and I'd never admit it, but even I was slightly intimidated.

That alone was enough to put into perspective how scared shitless Ezra probably was when Gabi insisted he try it. Well, that and the pure look of terror on his pale face.

"It's fine," I told him reassuringly. "I'll walk you through it."

We stared at each other for a moment, both of us acutely aware that we were never supposed to have spoken to each other. If neither of us were on the Court, I would've gone the rest of my life knowing Ezra Griffith as solely a name, not a person. Yet here we were, the EIC and our class's very-likely-to-be valedictorian's first time smoking weed, and the class slut was comforting him through it.

Cory had rolled a nearly perfect joint.

"Could make a better tip next time," I critiqued him, handing the joint off to Gabi after examining it.

Cory grinned at me and closed the space between us, brushing loose strands of blonde hair behind my ears. He leaned down, stopping just before our lips could touch. "You want a better tip, Allie?"

"Is that what they say?" I whispered back and wrapped my hands around his waist playfully. The look in his eyes told me everything I needed to know—he was fucking with me. He wouldn't dare actually try anything.

"Look," Gabi said, "I know you two want to make out or whatever, but can we at least smoke first."

Cory and I pulled apart and I was nothing but smiles as we passed around the joint and watched Ezra smoke weed for the first time, behind the cafeteria, senior year of high school.

He was high as fuck by the time the contest was over. Could barely even walk. I helped Gabi get him into her car.

"Where are you going to take him?" I asked.

"I don't know," she replied honestly and we both looked at the sleeping boy in her passenger seat. Only just an hour ago, he was so much more innocent.

"He's cute, Gab," I said, raising my eyebrow suggestively at her.

"I'm dating someone," she told me sternly.

Right. Like I would know.

"Well, will you text me. Wherever you go. Whenever you get home safe," I said, handing her my phone.

She looked shocked.

"What?" I asked, feeling my own high kicking my ass a little as my eyelids drooped.

She took my phone, put in her number and texted herself, the whole while saying, "I don't know. I guess...I just pictured you different."

"Different how?" I questioned as she handed me back my phone.

"Less caring," she murmured and got into the driver's seat of her car. "I'll text you." She closed the door, and I watched her drive out of the school parking lot with our passed out valedictorian.

I couldn't help but smile and shake my head.

I, Allie Carson, was caring. And Ezra Griffith, Valedictorian, was intoxicated.