"no! i'm not saying i've never done it. i'm just saying that.. it's been.. a while. i don't know when!" a rosy flush prickles across his pale skin, overcoming his features like a rash. but it's not a rash. he only got rashes when he was nervous. and malcolm was not nervous. though his palms begin to slicken with sweat as his hands wave defensively. "i'm not -- i'm not lying," daysia was a puzzle to malcolm. a configuration where the pieces were bending at some seams, and missing at other intersections. some were certainly missing, or perhaps stowed away so the slivers of self couldn't be found or dissected. while other guys would have enjoyed this about her -- saw her as a challenge or aloof, it was something that mac was hesitant to accept himself. he needed every piece and difinitive blue print on how to put them together. but as her brunette brows furrow at him, he quickly realizes it is too late to ask for instructions. "i've smoked weed before. plenty of times. i just don't do it often. really ever. but i used to smoke.. sometimes. you're not.. what did you say? popping my cherry? what does that even mean?"
