Buds Part Four

[buds]

WINTER BUDS

by Jeremiah Murphy

One hundred and twenty-one days had passed since he started smoking marijuana with Lisa. The ground hadn't opened up, the sky hadn't fallen, and his support group hadn't kicked him out. Of course, he'd never tell them about his new habit; but he went there for a drinking problem, and it had been three hundred and fifty-five days since he'd even smelled alcohol with more than a passing whiff.

This left him wondering for a moment if being twenty-one meant he had reached his peak for rationalization, or if he would actually get better at it. This in turn left him wondering if the weed was asking the questions now. This, then, left him wondering if there was any cake at this party.

A quick tally of the refrigerator revealed no cure for this craving: "Beer, beer, more beer, cheap beer, pretentious Irish beer, vodka, a bottle of tonic water with crumbs floating around in it, white wine, red wine--barbarians, margarita mix, vomit, beer, a set of velvet handcuffs, and more beer. No cake."

He silently cursed the shackles, which took up valuable space that could have been used for cake. He recognized them as a prop from the Theatre Department's Christmas production, which he had witnessed earlier in the evening. The problem with Christmas productions was that most of the faculty in the Theatre Department hated them and left them to student directors. The problem with student directors was that they tended to be very creative in their productions. This was because they also tended to be idealistic rebels with drinking problems, drug problems, or both. This also meant they threw the wildest cast parties.

Once again, Sean made it through one without throwing up.

"Wait," he announced to the empty kitchen, "was there cake in that vomit?" He opened the refrigerator again, unsure of what to do if the answer was yes. To his relief, he could identify only macaroni and corn in the mess.

When he closed the door and noticed his fellow kitchen occupant, it took him a moment to recognize her as the Ghost of Christmas Future. This because a sweater obscured the deep cleavage she showed off in the Creative Student Christmas Theater Production. This freed his eyes to look elsewhere on her body and see platinum hair pouring over her shoulders, turquoise eyes, a dazzling smile that seemed to take up the rest of her face. He blinked. "Um?" he asked.

"Is it true you don't drink?" she replied. "Because everyone thinks you're just doing it to get attention."

"Do they?"

"Yeah, but I don't believe them. They're just being shallow. I'm too thick to be shallow."

He considered this for a moment, concluding, "I believe you."

"Your name is Sean, right?"

"You've done your research."

"When you go to a lot of parties, people gossip. I like to find out what the real story is."

"I see. And you are?"

"Sorry," she said, "I'm Shannon. Did you see me in the play?"

"Of course," he replied, "you were the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come. In a white leotard."

"The director said he wanted to try something new. I hope it worked."

He recalled her performance in the non-speaking role. "You were born for the part. You have enormous breasts."

"I know," she said. "Most guys really like them. What do you think?"

He frowned and asked her, "Does this conversation seem a little weird to you?"

Lisa chose that moment to storm in to the kitchen. "Sean," she growled, "you and me got to have a little chat. On the back porch. Now." She then stormed out.

Sean strolled to the doorway. "Talk to you later," he said to Shannon. "I have to go outside and get beaten."

Once on the back porch, he asked Lisa, "Now what did I do?"

"Nothing," she replied, igniting the Dude, "this time. I just had to get you away from her."

"I never figured you for the jealous type," he said, taking his turn with the Dude.

"There's something wrong with her, Sean."

"A rescue. How uncharacteristically humane." He handed the pipe back to her.

After she exhaled her hit, she croaked, "I've been seeing too much of her lately."

"You don't have to worry about that tonight, she's wearing a really big sweater."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Forget it." He put the Dude to his lips.

She glared off into space.

He coughed. "And how much of Shannon is too much Shannon?"

"She's taken an interest in my boyfriend."

"So?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"Has he taken an interest back?" He handed her the Dude.

"Of course not."

"So, what's the problem?"

She lit the pipe thoughtfully. "She's all over him."

"Does he even notice?" He snatched it back and took a hit.

"What do you think?"

"I think your boyfriend's cute when he's being unobservant."

She smiled. "He is."

"He's only got eyes for you. I wouldn't worry."

"I didn't come out here for a pep talk." She took back her pipe.

"You're being pretty hostile for someone with nothing to worry about," he said.

"I'm not being hostile, I know my boyfriend's loyal. She's psycho."

"Which probably explains why she didn't get upset when I pointed out that she has enormous breasts."

She snorted. "You said that?" she asked before she took her hit and handed him the Dude.

"Well, she does," he replied. While she held her breath, he added, "Don't judge. You have enormous breasts too."

While she coughed in shock, her right arm lashed out and punched him square in the sternum.

"Hey!" he yelped. "You hit me!"

"You said," she started, stopping to hack some more.

While she did that, he whined, "You're not supposed to do that!"

Through a ragged throat, she growled, "You're not supposed to talk about my tits."

"I don't recall agreeing to that."

She hit him in the chest again, which hurt worse because she zeroed in on the welt that had been forming from the last one. As he stood there and whimpered, she started laughing.

"What's so funny."

"You, Sean," she replied. "You are such a girl."

"You should talk. You're the one with enormous breasts."

She hit him again. While he recovered from that, she added, "I don't want to hear you saying another word," she said.

As much as he enjoyed making her brain reel like this, he obeyed, but only because his ribs couldn't take another hit like that.

After a minute she added, "I should have left you with her. She seems to be taking an interested in you."

"Strictly empirical."

"Shit, if I had let nature take its course, I could have got rid of the both of you. God damn it."

"I don't think you're listening to me."

"I never do."

"Granted," he shrugged, "but your little Machiavellian scheme has too many careless flaws ..."

"No, it doesn't."

"… Like: I'm not nearly as charming as your boyfriend."

"For the love of God, would you just shut up?"

"Every time I do, you say something."

"You don't have to answer."

He sighed. "You're right, I should be hanging out with Shannon."

"That's what I've been saying."

"She's not what I would call normal, but at least she's really sweet. She was nice to me when everybody apparently thinks I'm an asshole."

"Now you're being an asshole," she told him while he took his hit.

"Stop it. You're hurting my feelings."

"Everybody thinks you're being dramatic about not drinking, that's all."

He asked, "Do they get that from the way I don't drink, so when they ask about it, I tell them I don't want to talk about it? Is that what makes me a martyr? Do they want me to walk around with a glass of apple juice and be an undercover alcoholic?"

She took back the Dude. "Now you're being a martyr."

"What could I possibly say that wouldn't piss you off?"

She blew smoke in his face. "You could shut the fuck up like I keep telling you to."

Carefully taking the pipe back in silence, Sean maneuvered it to his lips, adding, "Technically that's not actually saying anything."

"I'm serious," Lisa replied.

To be continued...