cigarettes and alcohol. christy renault
summary: school is fucking you in the ass (metaphorically), and you just need a pick me up from the prettiest dealer at school.
warnings: smoking.
—
Your parents were up your ass, your cheer squad held you to too high of a standard, and the preparations for prom were sucking out whatever life remained in you.
To put it bluntly, you were on the fucking brink of having a psychotic break.
The stress was building up so much that you felt like you could just burst and destroy anything or anyone in your line of sight.
Whenever you voiced your grievances to your best friend, Spider, he would always say you should pick up smoking, to which you would continuously laugh off.
That was his answer for everything and you did not like it. You vowed to never indulge in that disgusting drug, but vows were meant to be broken.
After a cheer practice full of the other cheerleaders practically on their knees at the sight of you, Spider’s coping mechanism did not seem so unreasonable anymore and you knew who to go to.
You caught her on her way out of the school, pushing through the double doors, as you called out her name. She continued walking, either not hearing you or deciding not to answer, but you didn’t let that stop you.
“Christy!” She heard you that time.
She turned around and stopped, allowing you to catch up and miss the annoyed glance that painted her face.
“Hi, I’m (Y/N), a friend of Spider’s.” You blurted awkwardly, smearing a smile on your face to hide your nervousness.
She cocked her eyebrow, wondering why you introduced yourself with that title and why you felt the need to say who you were at all.
She wasn’t an idiot—she knew your name and reputation.
“Yeah, I know who you are.” She turned forward and picked up her steps, making you frown quickly and follow her.
You cleared your throat after a minute of just walking next to her in silence, fumbling with your cross necklace as you thought of your next words. However well you planned them, they clearly didn’t come off the way they should have.
“Could I pay you for a… you know?”
Christy looked at you, forgetting you were even there, and simply said, “Huh?”
“You know… the—the things you sell.”
She let out a chuckle. “No, I’m not sure I do.” She thought it was amusing how your voice wobbled slightly and how you unconsciously held onto your cross like it would help you.
She knew this was probably the first time you were rebelling against mommy and daddy, and she wanted to make you say what you needed.
If you couldn’t do that, then she wasn’t giving you it. You had to earn it.
A sigh escaped your lips, “Christy…” You dragged her name out in a whine, causing her to smirk but ignore you.
You wanted to stomp around like a child and say fine, fuck you, you aren’t getting my money, but you already came this far. “Weed, marijuana-“
“Okay, okay. You don’t need to list every word for it, I got it.”
A moment of silence lingered before you spoke. “So do I pay you now, or?”
She rolled her eyes. “Just meet me at the baseball field at seven tommorow night and don’t forget your wallet.”
~~
“I’ve never done this before.” You muttered nervously, looking down at your lap.
“Yeah, that‘s obvious.” She replied as she rummaged around in her bag, pulling out a pre-rolled joint and a lighter that was the same shade as her red cowboy boots.
As Christy looked at you, excitement filled her body. She was honored to give your first joint, knowing that the cheer squad would all shit their pants if they saw you now.
“You good?” She asked once she saw you were avoiding eye contact at all costs.
You looked up and put on a smile, hoping to soothe your nerves. “Just nervous.”
“Come on,” she nudged you with her shoulder, “you’ll do great. You are with the pro, after all.” She smiled, making you let out a laugh.
“Yeah, thank god for that, right?”
She let out a hum in agreement as the two of you just looked at each other. You only then noticed how close she was to you. As your eyes moved around her face, you felt a pit form in your stomach.
Not a bad one, more of a one you get when you know your crush is going to ask you out.
That wasn’t what was happening, though. Far from it.
“You ready?”
You nodded, “Let’s do it.”
Christy’s original plan was to give you the weed and send you on your way quickly turned into her smoking with you. She had to make sure you didn’t die, obviously.
She stuck the joint in her mouth and lit it, wrapping her lips around and inhaling. You watched her every movement to make sure you didn’t embarrass yourself when she passed it to you.
When she blew the smoke out, she held the joint in front of you. “Just do what I did.” You nodded and took it from between her thumb and pointer finger, placing it between yours, and copying her movements.
You placed your lips around it, inhaled sharply, and launched all the smoke out in a coughing fit. She couldn’t help but laugh as she patted your back. “Dude, are you good?”
You gave her a thumbs up as your coughing settled, rasping out a “holy shit” making her eyebrows raise.
“Don’t inhale so sharply this time.” You did the process as before, but left out the part where you made a fool of yourself. You inhaled slowly and blew out the smoke not long after, passing it back to her.
“How was that?”
“Fantastic.” You laughed.
You both passed the joint back and forth until its length became too short. Christy put the joint out and sat back down in the grass, letting out a sigh.
You felt good—light, warm, and happy as you laid down in the grass. Christy also laid on her back, looking at the sky just as you did.
“You’re so cool, Christy. I’m jealous.” You blurted.
She turned her head to face you, seeing you were already looking at her. “Thanks,” She smiled.
“I wish we could have been friends. I hate my friends, they suck.”
“Yeah, they do.”
“You’re so pretty too. I’ve always noticed that but being so close to you right now… you’re just so pretty it’s honestly mind blowing.”
She was taken aback and didn’t know what to say. Your sudden compliment and how you seemed to speak like you were talking about the stars above you made her feel fuzzy.
Even fuzzier than she already was.
“You’re pretty too, (Y/N).” Was all she could manage.
A sharp inhale escaped between your lips, much like the one that made you cough for what felt like hours, before you let out a string of words you weren’t sure you would regret.
“I just—I think I want to kiss you.”
Before she could speak you opened your mouth again as you quickly leaned up on your elbow.
“No, no. I definitely do. Really badly, actually. Is that okay?”
“I think you should.”
You listened and slowly captured her lips with yours. They were soft and tasted like cherries, pairing with the lingering taste of marijuana.
Her hand came to rest on your shoulder as you leaned over her.
You didn’t see the night going this way, but the feeling of desire that sprung up deep down inside of you the moment your lips hit hers made you wonder if it was meant to happen.
Christy never imagined kissing you under the stars like there was no tomorrow. As selfish as it sounds, she was thankful for the pressure you felt or else she may have never gotten to kiss you.
The lack of oxygen brought you both apart and made you pant.
“That’s going to be thirty dollars.” Christy said, smirking.
“Thirty dollars? What a ripoff, I’m never doing this again.” You replied before placing your lips against hers.
—
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