"Nope," I said with a quickness that implied judgment that wasn't actually there.
"You ever thought about it?" he asked, mischievous smile.
"Hell yeah," I said with a quickness to erase the previous implied judgment.
"Here's how." He cut me a line and told me it would burn, and to tilt my head back, and it'll burn, and I shouldn't stop breathing in, and the burning, and to exhale through my mouth or it'd be a waste of drugs, and also it's gonna burn.
Responsible girl, professional therapist in charge of the safety and well-being of children for hours at a time, I do my first line. I sputter to boyfriend later in my stimulant haze that it feels like a double life, it feels like a lie.
"I understand feeling like that, especially with you working with kids, but it isn't as uncommon as you'd think."
He's right, but these are supposed to be my role model days, my upright citizen days, with all the lessons I'm supposed to have learned recently. Maybe I'm just the sort of girl that will always choose to play with fire.
I tell myself I've learned not to test the universe, that when the universe gives me a firm "no", I listen, but the opposite is true. I am always testing, and that's why I hear "no" so many goddamn times. The truth is I won't ever learn, and I will always do dumb shit, and I am unashamed.
Hell yeah.