DISCLAIMER : I don't own. So don't sue.

A/N : Yeah… What little I know about pot and that kinda thing is from when I dated a stoner. I'm friends with a couple as well. (Don't mistake me for a stoner, though, because I'm not. I just know some.)

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ONE

It isn't until we sit down to some spaghetti that I remember how good Bernadette's cooking is. From my peripheral vision I can see the shocked look on Bernadette's face as I wolf down my food. It's that fucking good.

"I take it you like the spaghetti?" Bernadette hazards. I nod.

"It's like a fucking orgasm in my mouth," I reply.

Ricky and Bernadette laugh. At this, I look up and raise a brow.

"What? What's so funny?"

Ignoring my question, Ricky turns to Bernadette. "See? This is why you should get a job at a restaurant."

"For the thousandth time, Ricky, I won't. I wanna be an artist. Why's that so hard to understand?" She pauses, but before Ricky can speak, she goes on. "Oh. It's the starving artist thing again, isn't it?"

"Yeah. You'd be dead before any of your sh--I mean, stuff --would sell."

Bernadette rolls her eyes. Then she smiles at me. "Sorry, doll. I don't mean to air out my dirty laundry in front'a ya."

I shrug. "Go on. It's fascinating."

She smiles again but just shakes her head.

"Oh, I got a dub today. Wanna smoke it?" Ricky says, as if he's just remembered to mention it.

Bernadette's smile turns into a grin. "Hell yeah!"

I tilt my head. "…dub? What the fuck's a dub?"

Bernadette looks at me. "You'll see."

--

Oh my God you guys have pot."

Bernadette and Ricky both give me looks that are both convey seeming irritated-ness yet entertainment at the same time. Bernadette is placing pot in the bowl of her pink-and-purple pipe as she does so.

"Yeah. You wanna try it, Doll?"

I bite my lip. I know I shouldn't. It's illegal, and from what those commercials on the boob tube say, it fucks up my relationships and my school career and that shit.

Despite this, I shrug. I've always been curious about pot, and I don't want to look like a lame goody-two-shoes in front of Bernadette and Ricky.

"Sure."

Bernadette nods. "Alright. C'mere, hun."

I sit down on the couch beside her and she shows me how to use the pipe. My thumb is over a hole next to the bowl, and my lips are pressed against a larger hole opposite to the one that's covered. She activates her lighter and lights the pot. I inhale.

The taste is disgusting, but that doesn't stop me from inhaling anyway. I hear Bernadette exclaim, "Hey, stop, that's too much!"

My lungs burn. Not just burn like I've coughed a lot or some shit, but actually burn . I hold the pipe away and exhale, but that doesn't help any. My lungs are still burning. I erupt into a coughing fit that leaves me trembling and teary-eyed. My lungs have surpassed burn now--they're on fucking fire! I'm so caught up in the coughing fit that I don't notice Ricky getting up off the couch and entering the kitchen to grab something.

When he comes back, he has a glass of soda in his hand. I swig, and soon my chest and throat are relieved of the pain.

"God," I wheeze. Bernadette smiles ruefully.

"Yeah, that happens," she says by way of apology.

"Whaddya think?" Ricky asks.

"It tastes like shit."

"You'll get used to it."

I look up at him. The taste of pot, as well as a vaguely charred taste, lingers behind the taste of the grapefruit soda.

Bernadette inhales the smoke and holds her breath. As she passes the pipe to Ricky, she says, "Cherry," while holding her breath. I tilt my head.

"Cherry?" Here I begin to understand there is more to pot-ness than just the smoking of it. There seems to be a language to go with it as well.

"Cherry means it's still lit," Ricky explains. He inhales the smoke from the pipe.

Bernadette then exhales. Ricky hands the pipe to her and she looks over at me. "You wanna try again?"

I sip on the soda, remembering the pain in my chest--which is just starting to go away--and the horrible taste. Bernadette's look becomes critical, as if she's already passing some sort of judgment on me. It's because of this that I nod.

"Yeah. Give it here."