his hand to guide me forward.
We waited for a few girls to pass tips and phone numbers into Mitchell’s hand, and when everyone else was finally gone, he turned to us. “Well, Violet, did you enjoy the tour?”
Shocked he already knew my name, I nodded and struggled for an acceptable answer that wouldn’t make me look like an idiot.
Oliver saved me again. “Violet, this is my brother, Mitch, and you’re not allowed to tip this jackass under any circumstances, okay?”
Mitchell laughed and mock-punched Oliver’s shoulder. “Fucker.”
I felt like I’d been punked, but at least the hurricane began to make sense. Oliver had connections. That much was obvious.
“It was a cool tour,” I said. “I’d heard or read about some of the stories, but seeing the buildings made it much spookier.”
“Excellent,” Mitchell said. “I aim to scare.”
“Your face scares the hell out of me.” Oliver laughed and moved behind me when his brother tried to smack him.
“Keep it up and I’ll smoke this myself, you little fucker.” Mitchell patted his vest and raised his eyebrows.
“All right. I’m sorry. That’s not for me, though. It’s for her.”
Both of them looked at me, and I again wondered for a moment if I was the butt of some joke.
“I see,” Mitchell said. He looked around, pulled a small baggie from his pocket, and passed it into my hand. “Enjoy.”
The aroma of good weed floated in the air between us, so I didn’t waste time dropping the precious cargo into my purse.
“Uh, thanks,” I said. “I didn’t bring any cash, but if you let me know how much—”
“I’ve got it,” Oliver said. He pulled a hard pack of Camels from his shorts, took some folded bills from the cellophane, and handed them to his brother. “If she ever needs any and I’m not around…” He paused to glance at me. “…give her the family discount.”
“Sure thing.” Mitchell used two fingers to give us a small salute. “I’m out, kids. I’ve got a date with a sociology major at 10:30. Don’t smoke it all at once.”
“I’ll see you this weekend,” Oliver said to his back.
We hailed a cab when we made it back to Bourbon. Oliver opened the lid of the Camel box and revealed an already rolled fatty. He told the driver to drop us off at the cemetery in Uptown. We ignored the strange look, and I ticked off the street names in my head as we got closer to our destination. Everything about that night had been perfect. The thought of catching a real buzz was the proverbial cherry on top of the sundae.
Oliver paid for the ride, helped me out of the cab, and waited for tail lights to disappear before firing the joint. We walked slowly toward my street, covering the dooby in our cupped hands and toking occasionally. He put it out a few blocks away from home, and by then, we were both slightly stoned. The silence between us was necessary rather than uncomfortable, so any time we talked, I giggled.
“Are you going to be okay?” he asked. “Will your parents know you’re fucked up?”
“Nah.” I shook my head. “They’re not the hugging type. I doubt I’ll even see them. I plan to go straight upstairs and fall into bed.”
“That sounds like fun.”
He insisted on walking me to the door. My decision-making abilities were impaired along with the rest of me, so I blurted out a “thank you” and unlocked the front door. He could’ve been flirting, but I still wasn’t sure and didn’t want to make a fool of myself.
“Goodnight, Violet,” he said, taking a step back toward the porch steps. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah. Okay.”
I left him outside and closed the front door behind me as quietly as possible. I tried to tiptoe up the stairs and down the hall to my room, but my father’s voice stopped me in my tracks as I was passing his office.
“Did you have fun?”
I turned to face him and nodded. “Yes. The movie was great. Again.”
Satisfied, he turned his attention back to the book
We waited for a few girls to pass tips and phone numbers into Mitchell’s hand, and when everyone else was finally gone, he turned to us. “Well, Violet, did you enjoy the tour?”
Shocked he already knew my name, I nodded and struggled for an acceptable answer that wouldn’t make me look like an idiot.
Oliver saved me again. “Violet, this is my brother, Mitch, and you’re not allowed to tip this jackass under any circumstances, okay?”
Mitchell laughed and mock-punched Oliver’s shoulder. “Fucker.”
I felt like I’d been punked, but at least the hurricane began to make sense. Oliver had connections. That much was obvious.
“It was a cool tour,” I said. “I’d heard or read about some of the stories, but seeing the buildings made it much spookier.”
“Excellent,” Mitchell said. “I aim to scare.”
“Your face scares the hell out of me.” Oliver laughed and moved behind me when his brother tried to smack him.
“Keep it up and I’ll smoke this myself, you little fucker.” Mitchell patted his vest and raised his eyebrows.
“All right. I’m sorry. That’s not for me, though. It’s for her.”
Both of them looked at me, and I again wondered for a moment if I was the butt of some joke.
“I see,” Mitchell said. He looked around, pulled a small baggie from his pocket, and passed it into my hand. “Enjoy.”
The aroma of good weed floated in the air between us, so I didn’t waste time dropping the precious cargo into my purse.
“Uh, thanks,” I said. “I didn’t bring any cash, but if you let me know how much—”
“I’ve got it,” Oliver said. He pulled a hard pack of Camels from his shorts, took some folded bills from the cellophane, and handed them to his brother. “If she ever needs any and I’m not around…” He paused to glance at me. “…give her the family discount.”
“Sure thing.” Mitchell used two fingers to give us a small salute. “I’m out, kids. I’ve got a date with a sociology major at 10:30. Don’t smoke it all at once.”
“I’ll see you this weekend,” Oliver said to his back.
We hailed a cab when we made it back to Bourbon. Oliver opened the lid of the Camel box and revealed an already rolled fatty. He told the driver to drop us off at the cemetery in Uptown. We ignored the strange look, and I ticked off the street names in my head as we got closer to our destination. Everything about that night had been perfect. The thought of catching a real buzz was the proverbial cherry on top of the sundae.
Oliver paid for the ride, helped me out of the cab, and waited for tail lights to disappear before firing the joint. We walked slowly toward my street, covering the dooby in our cupped hands and toking occasionally. He put it out a few blocks away from home, and by then, we were both slightly stoned. The silence between us was necessary rather than uncomfortable, so any time we talked, I giggled.
“Are you going to be okay?” he asked. “Will your parents know you’re fucked up?”
“Nah.” I shook my head. “They’re not the hugging type. I doubt I’ll even see them. I plan to go straight upstairs and fall into bed.”
“That sounds like fun.”
He insisted on walking me to the door. My decision-making abilities were impaired along with the rest of me, so I blurted out a “thank you” and unlocked the front door. He could’ve been flirting, but I still wasn’t sure and didn’t want to make a fool of myself.
“Goodnight, Violet,” he said, taking a step back toward the porch steps. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah. Okay.”
I left him outside and closed the front door behind me as quietly as possible. I tried to tiptoe up the stairs and down the hall to my room, but my father’s voice stopped me in my tracks as I was passing his office.
“Did you have fun?”
I turned to face him and nodded. “Yes. The movie was great. Again.”
Satisfied, he turned his attention back to the book
Similar Books
