A/N: THERE'S HAIRSPRAY ALL OVER MY KEYBOARD.

Just thought I'd share.

. . .

Wasted – Chapter 10

Weed

. . .

"What do we need the art department for again?"

"Costumes, mostly, but we do need a few art pieces for the museum scene and a giant painted background for the Poptart scene."

"Why didn't we ask the Theatre department for costumes?"

"We did, but there were things they didn't have, again for the Poptart scene, amongst others."

I'm not in great shape. My back hurts, my feet hurt, my head hurts and I feel extra heavy because I haven't had my soccer practices to make up for my disastrous eating habits, and because I'm PMSing and thus, bloated – it sucks major ass that I have to feel like this for an entire week before the real torture starts. Also, Sasuke kept waking me up every half-hour last night with a particularly aggressive demeanor.

Not that he was violent or rude, but he was rough. I don't mind a bit of roughness, but he didn't have his usual consideration for my well-being. And he kept at it all night. I wasn't scared, but it did worry me a little. Plus, it wasn't entirely enjoyable. It felt like he was just using me, using my body, to vent some pent up frustration. I swear, even my lips have bruises. I'm so sore, I'd film myself right now to see if I'm right to think that I'm not walking straight.

I'm not that peeved about being used, but he usually is just so considerate that I didn't expect any of last night to happen. I didn't think he'd ever objectify me. But hey, before him, that was the only kind of attention I got from guys, so what's one rough night after three weeks' worth of amazing sex? Even if I didn't come once? Pff, I can function without an orgasm. Tss.

Pff.

"Right. Sakura, that's Kankurou, the art department's head. He said he'd help us."

Hmm?

GAH.

Okay. Okay. He has paint all over his face. Okay.

For a second, there, I thought his face was deformed into a horrible grimace, like an evil clown. I hate clowns. Bleh.

"Hey, nice to meet you." He smiles and offers me his hand to shake, and I oblige, hoping he didn't notice my momentary internal panic. "My bro and his girlfriend are getting stuff from the supply room. I asked another dude to help out, but he's late and he won't answer my texts or my calls."

"Why?" Ino asks.

"He's a dick," Kankurou answers matter-of-factly. "Best of the class, but a dick nonetheless. And really weird."

"Then why did you ask him?" I ask, getting irritated.

"I just said he's the best in the class."

"So? Couldn't you have just asked somebody not as good but more enjoyable to be around?" I'm aware of the bitchiness in my tone, but I'm not mad at Kankurou, just at the dick who didn't show up. He doesn't seem to be affected and merely shrugs.

"Everyone else asked to be paid. Thought you'd prefer it being free."

"And we're very grateful for that, aren't we, Sakura?" Ino sends me a "Don't fuck this up, woman" look, but I'm not having it.

"Give me your phone." I stretch my hand out to Kankurou.

"He won't answer if my number shows up," he deadpans.

"Fine, then give me his number."

He stares at me for a minute, probably wondering if he should do as I ask because I look like a madwoman, but I hold his gaze with the firm intention to release my new wave of irritation on the idiot who decided to skip out on my very important final project. Ino is silent next to me, but I can tell she's just keeping it in until we're somewhere she can properly scold me for being PMSing bitch. Kankurou hesitantly pulls his phone out and gives me the dude's number.

"His name's Sai." He hesitates again while I punch in the numbers. "Just... be careful."

Oh, I need to be careful? That Sai dude is going to regret he ever considered the possibility of maybe having the thought of bailing out on me. I can't art to save my life and he won't art to save my final college movie. This is personal.

"Hello?"

Kankurou's vague description of the guy did not prepare me for the smooth, polite tone he answered my call with.

"Is this Sai?"

"Yes it is. How can I help you?" WHY IS HE SO NICE!

"Well, you could start by getting your ass to the art room." His voice makes me feel bad about scolding him, but the way I see it, someone's got to knock some sense into him and my currently easy irritability and I are the perfect team to do that.

"Although your pretty voice makes for a very appealing image in my mind and I'd love to see what you actually look like, I fail to see any other reason to present myself to the art room. So please, enlighten me."

Stand your ground, Sakura. Don't let his sweet words get to you.

"Listen and listen closely, you blithering imbecile. I have three hours of sleep scraped together to keep me awake right now, I'm hungry as fuck, my head feels like it's been sawed open and you are single-handedly putting my final project and thus my diploma at stake." Ino and Kankurou are sending me panicked looks, while a redheaded boy and brown-haired girl are hesitantly walking out of what I assume is the supply room with gigantic pieces of cardboard and very confused expressions on their faces. "So I absolutely do not need you to question what I say nor to try to subdue me with compliments. I need you to get off your lazy ass right now and bring it to the art room before I have time to wonder why you're still not here, otherwise I swear to God, I will find you and I will hurt you."

There's only silence on the other end of the line for a few seconds, while I pant like I've just run a marathon. Kankurou is still staring at me like I'm the crazy one – well, maybe I am – and Ino is facepalming. The red-haired boy and the brown-haired girl – who I can only guess are Kankurou's brother and his girlfriend – are not moving, as if afraid I might attack them as well.

Then, in the phone, I hear:

"Kinky."

But, see, the thing is, I also hear it behind me.

You know, where the door is.

"Have you had time to wonder where I am?"

I wish I could stop my legs from turning me around, or prevent my optic nerves from sending the sight in front of me to my brain. I wish I could force my eyelids to close or my jaw to come back up to the rest of my head. I wish I could think of a clever retort or at least make my mouth say "Oh, there you are" in a condescending tone. But I can't.

No reason. I just can't.

"Ah, I knew such a beautiful voice had to belong to an equally beautiful girl," he says with a wide smile, still talking into the phone. "I'm actually glad I came."

I still can't get myself to perform any kind of action, so I just stand there, my eyes metaphorically stuck to his, my mouth still hanging open and probably the most hilarious dumbfounded expression on my face. He takes a few steps until he's only a few inches away from me and keeps smiling.

"Well, I'm gonna hang up, now," he says in a slightly hushed voice. He pulls his phone away from his ear and ends the call. As I'm still not moving, he reaches for mine, his fingers closing softly around my hand and directing it away from my face. "You should too." He presses the "End" button, still holding my hand.

I gather up enough brain power to close my mouth and blink, and with a chuckle, he leans down so that his face is at the same level as mine. His eyes – so, so black – bore into mine and I'm surprised to find myself looking away in embarrassment. I slap myself mentally and bring my gaze back to his. I better show him who's boss.

Will you stop smiling, damn you!

"Are you alright?" He asks, the hand that was holding mine leaves it to lightly brush against my cheek before resting on my forehead. "You don't have a fever, but you're awfully pale. Almost as much as me!" Is he really laughing at his own joke?

Granted, he does have an impossibly white complexion. And here I thought Sasuke was pale. This boy is whiter than Edward Cullen and Vanilla Ice's love child. I'll have to shove him into a ray of sunlight, to see if he sparkles. Or bursts into spontaneous bad rapping from the 90's. Hell, a toilet is tanner than he is.

Actually, speaking of Sasuke, he actually resembles him a little. Although I still haven't figured out Sasuke's eye colour and Sai is considerably paler than him, there isn't much of a difference. Maybe Sai has softer features. More like a girl. And he's a bit shorter and the lankier side of things. Shorter hair, yes, and he looks like a black and white movie – it doesn't help that he wears absolutely no colours, only black. No specific style, just complete absence of colour.

But it's his voice that sets him apart from Sasuke. His tone is smooth, in a higher pitch, and very calm. He doesn't speak too quickly, nor is he slow, and he doesn't seem capable of being impolite. Then again, what do I know? I've only just met him.

He has a very nice smile, though.

Wait, why am I smiling?

"Ah, good, there's some colour returning to your face." His smile widens and his hand leaves my forehead. My cheeks feel warm. Oh, great, I'm blushing.

He leans away from me, starts to unbutton his coat and walks past me. I finally regain control over my body and turn around, slipping my phone into my pocket, just in time to see him toss his coat unto a desk and take one of the cardboard pieces from Kankurou's brother's hands. Ino looks about as confused as I am, but Kankurou gets right into the swing of things and starts explaining to Sai what we require for our movie.

"That sounds pretty epic," he says, turning to me and sending me another smile. My heart jolts. Why did my heart jolt? He turns back to the piece of cardboard, stares at it for a few seconds, then exclaims "Alright, let's do this" and, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do in the art room, he pulls his shirt off.

I could comment on how hot it's not in the art room, not even slightly warm, or how inappropriate his sudden nudity is, or how untidy it was to toss it across the room instead of folding it or at least bunching it up in his bag. Really, I could. But I'm too busy staring at how not lanky he actually is.

Oh, sure, nothing can rival Sasuke on the subject of sexy midriff, but this boy has the six-pack to make guidos feel fat and insecure. And... Oh, nope. He doesn't have that thin line of hair that Sasuke has, that descends into his pants and leads to really awesome things. The trail to paradise. The path to happiness. Hmm.

Still, hunched over my future gigantic Poptart, meticulously cutting the shape into the cardboard, his back muscles just as appealing as his front, I can't help want to run my hands all over him. And his hands, oh my God! Big and warm, as I've felt on my forehead, but apparently very steady and no doubt very agile, if he's the best artist in the class. I wonder how it'd feel to have him press them against my skin and roam up and down my body. With hands like that, he can only be good in bed.

...

And I'm a gigantic whore.

Seriously, why the fuck am I thinking about those things? I'm supposed to be mad at him! Besides, I have Sasuke to satisfy me – even if he hasn't been very satisfying lately. No! Come on, focus! He's helping out for your final project. He's not here to hook up with you. If anything, he's probably turbo-gay. That's it, ex-nay on the elp-hay.

"Right, well, we have to go, right? Sakura?" Ino pushes me towards the door. She's probably noticed the way I was ogling Sai's torso and she knows as much as I do how dangerous that is. Sai raises his head from the cardboard Poptart quickly, as if startled by Ino's words and rushes over to us, grabbing his phone on the way.

"Could I have your number?" He asks, ever so polite. I don't know if he meant to direct the question to the both of us, but he's only looking at me. "So that we can contact each other if there's an issue," he adds with another of his (sweet, heartwarming) smiles.

"S-sure," I stammer out. I think that's the first thing I've intentionally told him face to face. I fish my phone out of my pocket and tell him my number, feeling a bit more excited than I probably should be about it. When we're done, his flashes me another smile.

"Bye, pretty eyes." He returns to the Poptart and Ino pulls me out of the art room without even pointing out that he didn't take her number as well. We barely make it to the staircases leading to the intersection before she turns to me, squealing, a huge smile on her face.

"Dude! You just got hit on!" She yells, and her voice echoes all around us, deafening.

"Psh, did not." Did I?

"Uh, did too! That reason to ask for your number was complete bullshit. He could just get Kankurou to call me if there's a problem."

"Well, maybe he wanted to make it simpler, in case he works on it alone."

"Sakura. Just admit he hit on you. I'm not asking you if you like him back." She pauses. "Unless of course you're interested."

"Pff, no. Tss. Pff." I'm not convincing.

"You're not convincing."

Well, sue me! He's pretty. And he seems nice. Not at all the dick Kankurou said he was. But I can't be interested. I won't let myself. I've committed to a boyfriend-less existence and I intend to stick to it.

"Can we drop it?"

"I knew it! You like him!"

"I don't even know him."

"Well, you have the perfect opportunity to get closer."

"Yeah, and I won't take it."

"Aw, come on! You can't content yourself with Sasuke."

"I thought you approved."

"I do, but only if it's temporary. He won't marry you, Sakura. He won't give you children."

"What makes you think that?"

"You guys are fuck-buddies. Fuck-buddies don't have futures together."

"Ino, I'm eighteen. I'll be nineteen in a few weeks. Last I checked, I'm still a bit young to settle down and have kids."

"So? What if Sai's the one and you're skipping out on a happy life with him?" Right. Because that's a good argument. The "you never know" card. The Schrödinger's Cat situation. I'm not risking heartbreak over someone whom I barely know anything about, beside his lack of punctuality.

"I'm not talking about this anymore." Dismissing the conversation is the easiest way to get Ino off my back. Any counterargument I could come up with would be futile, now. She has a way with powerful retorts.

"Sakuraaa..." she says in a tone that clearly means "I warn you, if you put a stop to this conversation, there will be consequences". I don't really care. We're best friends, she couldn't bring herself to actually harm me in any way.

"I said no. Now let me call Sasuke." I look through my contact list for his name. We've reached the bottom of the stairs and are making our way across the intersection to the main entrance hallway.

"Pff. Fine. Suit yourself." We reach the double doors and she pushes one open. "I'll go prepare myself to pick up the pieces after you've hit your wall."

"Ugh, go away." I find Sasuke's number and punch the send button to call him, then bring the phone up to my ear.

"Love you, bitch," Ino says while it rings.

"Don't call me bitch, bitch."

"Say you love me."

"I love you. Now leave."

Almost immediately after, I hear a click and Sasuke's gruff "Hello?" reaches my ears. He sounds irritated and tired, which is not typical Friday behaviour on his part. He usually likes Fridays, because he only has school in the morning. Maybe I woke him up. That might be it.

"Hey, I jus-"

"Sakura?" He cuts me off.

"Yeah?"

"This is not the right time." Why does he sound so upset? And whatever the reason, why is he being rude to me? I certainly didn't do anything.

"I just wanted to know if you were picking me up." Good girl. No need to snap at him.

"No."

"Yes, I figured that much. Do you want me to bus it?"

There's a silence, except for a faint background voice on the other side of the line, but I don't understand a word. Sasuke doesn't answer whoever's talking and I wait for him to speak again.

"No," he finally says.

"No what?" Is he picking me up, then? Has he changed his mind?

"Don't come over tonight." There are so many questions I should be asking him, like "When can I come over?" or "What's wrong?" or "Did I do something?", but my brain decides to scrap all of those and go for the "curious four-year-old" option.

"Why not?"

"I don't want you to." I'm going to pretend that didn't hurt.

"Why not?" Keep your voice steady, Sakura. He's allowed a day off. And you know how he can severely lack tact sometimes.

"It's the last thing I need, right now." That didn't hurt either. Nope. Not at all.

I stay silent. There's a lump in my throat that I'm trying to suppress and I know that if I speak, he'll notice it and it'll annoy the crap out of him to have a girl on the verge of tears on the phone. I can't let myself cry. His rejection is not worth crying over, not with the kind of relationship we have.

Besides, it's not because it's him. Rejection in general is painful. It just took me by surprise. Yeah. That's it. Come on, pull it together!

I swallow forcefully and feel the lump decrease. Once I trust myself enough to speak, I clear my throat and try a different approach.

"Did I..." Come on, Sakura, you can do this. "D-did I do something wrong?"

For a few moments, there's absolutely no sound on either side of the line. I wait anxiously for his answer, just standing in the middle of the hallway, my phone stuck to my ear, my free hand subconsciously clutching the hem of my coat tightly. Then there's the background voice again, which sounds like a woman, and Sasuke sighs.

"Look, I'll call you later," he says, sounding suddenly very tired.

My phone makes a beeping sound to announce that the call is over. I stand there, still holding it to my ear, as if hoping it was a fluke and he's actually still there, about to laugh at me for being so gullible. But there's no more noise coming from my phone. And I'm alone, in the school's main hallway, pressing it to my ear like an idiot. I even let out a small "See ya" before pretending to end the call, as if I could fool anyone with my tiny, shaky voice and my eyes that are getting more teary by the second.

I need to save face. I need to pretend I have somewhere to go, a purpose in life for the next few minutes if I want to avoid an emotional breakdown in the middle of school. I walk back up to the second floor and make the worst possible choice: I hurl myself into a bathroom. Way to keep up the appearances, Sakura! You absolute master of deception, you. At least now, I can think of my next move without letting everyone see me think about it. And I can cry for all I'm worth.

Which is not much.

It takes a while, but I eventually stop sobbing hysterically. I wait a little longer until my eyes aren't puffy anymore and weigh my options. I can go home, but what good will that do? I don't have homework or anything to keep me occupied. I'll only end up feeling lonelier than ever. I can't call Ino. She'll rub it in my face all night. I'm not in the mood for one of her "I told you so" speeches. I know Naruto's working on his own final project tonight, and he doesn't want anyone to know what he's doing before he presents it, when it's absolutely ready. I don't want to intrude into anyone's project, anyway.

Oh, wait.

I can intrude on mine! The people in the art class, they're working on my film. And they don't know about my Sasuke situation. They probably don't care, either. I can keep myself busy and get my mind off of him. It's perfect!

I dash to the art room, a little too eager to forget my problem. When I get there, music is playing loudly, Kankurou's standing on a table, hanging something on a makeshift washing line, his brother's hunched over my Poptart while his girlfriend absentmindedly paints a heart on his forehead and Sai is dancing around and singing along to the song, mixing paint in a can. For some reason, the windows are now open and the room has reached glacial temperatures. Thank God I still have my coat on.

There's also this smell. It's a smell I can't quite recognize; I mustn't have been exposed to it enough, but it still manages to ring a bell in my brain. The only image that comes to mind is chemicals and smoke. The thing is, there's no smoke in the room and nothing I can see that creates smoke. Meh, maybe it's just "Eau de Spray Paint and Overused Glue Gun". It's not particularly bad, but it's not the most pleasant smell either. It's kind of upsetting, in a weird, I'm-trying-to-be-deep sort of way.

I walk in slowly and at first, none of them seems to notice I've arrived. However, when I set my school bag down on a table, the noise makes Sai look up from his can of paint. And I swear, the smile he sends me, I don't remember anyone ever looking happier to see me than he does right now. It's mesmerizing.

"You're back!" He exclaims, drawing the others' attention to me. They all call out greetings, but I ignore them. I walk over to Sai and sit on a stool at the Poptart table. Kankurou jumps down from his table and walks out the door, saying something about pizza, his brother and his girlfriend look like they're stuck in their own bubble and Sai asks me what I think of the giant cardboard toaster pastry so far before resuming his singing in a quieter tone to hear my answer. My Captain Obvious alter-ego resurfaces and tells him it looks like a big cardboard square that's painted Poptart-pink.

It's a stupid answer, I know, but my brain's kind of busy noticing how good Sai smells. I mean, crazy good. Sasuke always has this pleasant smell, but Sai's just engulfs me. Amidst the chemical-slash-smoky cloud that's filled the art room since I left, his odor smacks me right in the face. I literally want to squash my face against his abs – because he's still shirtless – and take huge whiffs of his smell for the rest of my life.

And by the way, not a bad singing voice he's got there. And he looks so confident and happy, right now. He's exactly where he wants to be, shirtless, with paint on his hands, face, torso and pants – I get the reason behind all the black, now; it goes with every colour – singing to loud music. He looks so free. So... wild. Compared to him, Sasuke's a tame panda. And I say panda because he's still good-looking. He's just... a little boring, now. I feel bad thinking this of him, but he was a jerk to me a few minutes ago, so I'm entitled to mentally insult him.

Every once in a while, Sai looks up at me and smiles, then goes back to painting my Poptart. When he's not looking at me, I stare at my nails – today painted an "I'm-A-Hipster" pale-ish yellow (the colour's real name is "Sunny Side Up", but that's too perky for me) – and try to figure out what I could say to start a conversation.

Eventually, Kankurou comes back with six pizza boxes and suddenly, there's no more need for me to find a subject of conversation. All three of them who stayed in the art room with me converge to the table where he sets the pizzas down, rambling about how hungry they are and they each take a box to bring it back to their respective work tables.

Okay. I'm a glutton myself. I can eat a two-litre tub of ice cream and still be hungry for an entire meal. However, that's when I haven't eaten for at least six hours – from noon to six o'clock at night most days, so it's a regular dinner of mine – but it's three in the afternoon. Unless these people's last meal was breakfast, I don't see how they're gonna eat entire pizzas on their own.

Sai hands me a box and I take it with a little hesitation. I'm still hungry as ever, but I wouldn't want to eat like a pig in front of him. But he sends me another one of his smiles and I melt. Really, whatever quirk I have, this guy won't judge me. He's an art student; he's all about quirks. Hell, he probably doesn't even mind my pink hair. Sasuke has never commented on my hair, but the night we met, I caught him quite a few times staring at it in a slightly disapproving manner. And by that, I mean that he was frowning, so I just assumed it was because he disapproved of it. Maybe it was just the alcohol making him doubt what he was seeing was right. I guess that in the end, it didn't matter to him that much, since he shagged me anyway.

But Sai... It's clear he likes it. I mean, he's changing the hue of the Poptart icing to match my hair colour. He keeps picking up strands and comparing them to his new can of paint in which he's mixing the pink. He says it's a much better shade and it'll represent me in the movie. I hadn't even thought of that. Some of my classmates always add a special element in their movies to brand it as their work, like this one kid who always puts at least one orange in there. He even made a movie in which every single shot contained an orange. I mean, that's dedication right there. I just never found something I wanted to represent me. I guess it could be pink. It's not my favourite colour, but it's not so bad. And Ino likes it too. I could talk to her about it.

I pull out homework from my bag and start nibbling on a piece of pizza. All the others have two boxes, so I'm guessing Sai gave me one of his. They couldn't possibly know I'd come back. Besides, I like plain cheese pizza, and this one is meat-lover's. I feel bad. Maybe he's just as hungry as I am and he was expecting two pizzas. I should only eat half of mine and give him the rest back.

"You can eat it all," he says out of the blue. Apparently, my train of thought is showing on my face, because he points to the pizza and repeats that I can eat it.

"You're sure?"

"It's fine. Seriously. There's more food coming, anyway."

What! You mean, after the two pizzas he was going to have before I came back, he was still going to eat more? But... I... I don't... How!

"I'm just... soooo hungry," he says, then momentarily spaces out. When he snaps back, he gives me another smile, takes a huge bite of pizza and splotches a dollop of pink paint on the Poptart.

I'm not sure if I should be worried about his mental health. Maybe it's the paint fumes that got to his brain. I mean, there's only so much time can you spend inhaling chemicals before it takes its toll on you. We might all be developing brain tumors right now, for all we know.

Oh well. At least I have pizza. I scarf it down while I try to study for my Art History class. I feel it's most appropriate for the physical situation I'm in. Art room, art history. Yeah. Sasuke usually makes me study this. He takes great pleasure in seeing me struggle to remember whether Ingres painted La Grande Odalisque or Madame Récamier, and to what period Géricault's Le Radeau de la Méduse belongs. He has an amazing memory and he repeats over and over how he knows the answer and he doesn't even take that course, which is infuriating.

"Which one's your favourite?"

What is it with him and questions out of nowhere?

"Which what?"

"Period." Oh, he's looking at my notes. Well, Sakura, now's the time to sound smart.

"Romanticism. Friedrich, with his Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog. Géricault and his Radeau, of course. Fuseli and The Nightmare. What?" He's looking at me with a very clear "I did not expect an eloquent answer" expression on his face.

"Nothing," he says, smiling. "Romanticism has really dark themes. I just pictured you as more of a Rococo kind of person. With your colour scheme and your accessories and all. Your sunny disposition." I'm sensing a bit of sarcasm in there – which may or may not have something to do with that phone call an hour ago – but I should probably let it go.

"Oh. We haven't seen that period yet." And I'm back to being an idiot.

"I see." He chuckles. "Well, you know how Baroque is all about frills and opulence in patterns and colour?"

"Yeeeaaah..." I do sort of remember that, but we saw that last semester, so I pretty much erased it from my brain.

"Rococo's worse than that." He chuckles again.

"Ah." Wait a second... "Dude, what's that mean about me?" He really laughs, now.

"Don't worry. I like Rococo. It's my favourite."

He puts a hand on my arm. I melt.

"Dudes, I have the McDick's!" I jump. I hadn't even noticed Kankurou had left the room, and I didn't hear him come back either. He throws a huge bag of McDonald's on Sai's table, hands a second one to his brother – whose name I should really learn – and gets back to his own work. Sai finishes his pizza and gets his hands on some fries. From a peek into the bag, I know that there are at least three trios in there. All for one person.

"Gaara." He calls out. Kankurou's brother looks up. Ah, well, there we go. I know his name, now. "You wanna do another one?" Gaara glances at his girlfriend, who gives him a smirk and a nod, and he turns back to Sai and nods as well.

Sai reaches into his pant pocket and pulls out what looks like a cigarette. Except it's thinner. And it looks handmade.

Oh.

Oh!

I get it.

The open windows, the aloofness, the absentmindedness, the hunger... the smell. I know what that smell is, now. I didn't think I'd ever be in a situation where such a stereotype could actually be brought to life. Out of all the social groups in this school, I genuinely thought these people would strive to detach themselves from their attributed image. They're all about originality and individuality. Surely, they'd be trying to break the presumed status quo that affects their field of interest. But apparently, I was wrong.

These art students are getting stoned.

I should mind. Really, this should bother me. I mean, it's illegal in the first place, but they're smoking up on the school grounds. Actually, scratch that, they're doing it inside the school. And fine, I got drunk in the school, but there's a difference. It was a formal event, school was out for the holidays and it was alcohol. Drugs are an entire different matter. No, seriously, I should be leaving, right now, and telling a teacher about it.

Really, I should.

But I... don't really care.

I mean, they look fine. Maybe a little out of the loop, but nothing that could put them or anyone else in danger. Besides, it seems to help them get the work done and they're all in a really good mood. If anything, the only issue is that they're eating way too much for their own good. So, really, I'm fine with it.

But I guess I've been staring at the joint for a while, because Sai hands it to me and asks if I want to share. And here's what bothers me: usually, I would've immediately refused. I binge drink like an alcoholic on a rampage and I have slept around with more guys than a girl who actually has daddy issues, but I never ever agreed to drugs. I know people who pop and I know people who smoke up, and it's fine (if it's not on school grounds), but I don't really like the idea of getting arrested. It's not even a question of health. Alcohol and marijuana are both very dangerous when taken in abusive doses. I really just don't want to end up in jail. It would give my mother too good an excuse to have me move back home and put me on house arrest.

Now, though, I'm hesitating. Because I really shouldn't rule out from my life something I've never tried and because these four seem to be having the time of their lives. I want to have fun too. Besides, if it gets my mind off Sasuke for good, I'm all for it. And if we don't get caught on the school grounds, once I'm back at my place, I can't be arrested for simply being high. So, you know, maybe I should accept Sai's offer. He's been so nice to me today; I'm sure he'll take care of me if things go wrong.

Wait... No! We're at school. I can't do this. It's not right. And how would Ino react? She's been dead set against drugs since the Kakeru incident – she calls it The Double Back-Stabbing, because it's a double-meaning and it's the only way she can somewhat laugh about it – and she'd kill me if I smoked up and did something stupid – well, stupider than smoking up in school.

Then again, who's gonna tell her? Not me, that's for certain. What she doesn't know won't hurt her. I just have to make sure I don't try to contact her. I'll turn off my phone.

So... Am I really going to do this? I think I am. Oh, God. I'm going to do drugs for the first time in my life. What if it goes wrong? No. Don't think about that. I've heard worrying about having a bad trip is the best way to have one. So, it'll be fine. Don't worry.

"Sure," I hear myself say. "But you're gonna have to show me how to do it." Sai looks surprised. What, do I look like I've taken drugs before?

"You've never-"

"Nope," I cut him off. No need to tergiversate. It only gives me more time to realise what I'm about to do.

"All right, then," he says, letting me take the joint. He grips my shoulders and leads me to one of the open windows. "Take a small puff. I don't want you to overdo it if it's your first time." I place it between my lips. He pulls a lighter from his pocket and raises it to the end of the joint. "Keep it in and try to make it go down in your lungs. Kind of like taking a deep breath. If you did it right, you'll know."

He lights it. I suck in.

I try to do it quickly, to take as small a puff as I can. If he says I should only take a small one, that's what I'll do. He's right. No need to overdo it. Now, to send it to my lungs. Like taking a deep breath, okay.

Oh my God, it burns! It's like all the moisture in my larynx has been dried off by the smoke.

"Now, blow it out the window," Sai says, taking the joint from me. I do as he says and smoke shoots out of my mouth. I always wondered what it'd be like to breathe out smoke. When we were kids, Ino and I would pretend we were posh smokers when we played outside in the winter. It was even better if we had lollipop sticks, because then we'd use them as the actual cigarettes. I knew I didn't want to smoke for real, because of all the horrible pictures we were subjected to in our Ethics class (yep, even in elementary, we had those), so I never thought I'd ever get to experience real smoke coming out of my mouth.

Aaand now I'm coughing my lungs out. Because hell, it really burns. Tears well up in my eyes. A glass of water is presented to me and I don't even bother to look who got it for me, I just gulf it down. The coughing stops and I wipe my eyes. Sai's leaning against the wall, holding the joint like a cigarette, and Gaara's standing next to me, another glass of water in his hand.

"Thanks," I pant out. He smirks and takes the joint from Sai.

"The more you cough, the more effect it has on you," Sai says in a teaching tone. He waits until Gaara's had his turn, then takes the joint back and puts it to his lips. "It should take a little while to get into your system. Give it five minutes. If you don't feel anything, you can decide if you want to try again."

He's so patient. He's not even laughing at me. I usually laugh at newbies on their first drinking extravaganza who can't hold more than two cocktails. Maybe I should try to teach them, like Sai's teaching me.

"The point is not to wait for it, though," Sai continues. "Too much anticipation can have a placebo effect. Never good."

"What do you suggest I do, then?" I ask, my voice a little raspy.

"I don't know," he shrugs. "Homework. Take off your coat, though."

"Why? It's freezing."

"Weed makes your heart rate increase. If it works, you won't be freezing anymore."

I do as he says, because he knows more about this than I do and because I'm wearing a snowcoat while he's walking around bare-chested. I sit back in front of my homework and get back to my paintings. Sai and Gaara are still at the window, making small talk, occasionally taking a swig from the joint. I don't see time fly at all, too engrossed in my studying. However, when Sai asks if it worked, it takes me few seconds to understand that he's talking to me.

I feel lighter. I try looking around, and things seem to register in my brain half a second too late. I look at my hands and it's like I'm someone else looking at them. I recognise them, with the "I'm-a-Hipster" yellow nail polish – oh, I'm giggling – but they don't seem to be attached to my body anymore.

That's a funny word, "anymore". So many people confuse the spelling. Sometimes, it has to be separated into two words. And it could be someone's name, too. Annie Moore. That's a good name. Annie Moore would be a dentistry student. Or a kindergarten teacher. Yeah, that's what she is. And she has a big, fluffy orange cat. Named... Lorenzo. She's in love with this dude called Al Ready. He's Scottish. Her best friend's called Annie Way. She may or may not be related to the Way brothers in My Chemical Romance. Man, Gerard is one sexy beast with that red hair. He has a daughter, now. Her name's Bandit. I want to name my kid Bandit.

Bandit.

Baaaandiiiiiit.

It such a cool name! It's like... the coolest name ever. Maybe he gave her that name just so I'd think of it for my own daughter. He knew I'd want a really awesome name and he delivered. He's so thoughtful! Gerard Way is such a nice guy. He did that just for me. Not like Sasuke. Sasuke never does anything for me.

Ooh, another Annie! And An Other! I'm being so creative, oh my God. Why do I keep calling God out? I'm not even religious. Unless you count opening presents on Christmas and stuffing myself with chocolate on Easter being religious. In which case, I am completely religious. I should invent my own religion that still has Christmas and Easter. Hm, maybe not Easter. Christmas is plenty. Oh, wait, no, Easter gives days off school too. Fine, Easter can stay. I should tell him. He'll feel left out if I don't. I don't want him to feel bad! He's gonna cry! I don't want him to cry!

"Did it work, Sakura?"

"I have to find Easter and tell him!"

"Yep, it worked." Oh, look, Sai's here. I like Sai. He's nice. Nice is a city in France. I'd like to go to France. And England. It'd be pretty epic. "Come here, Sakura."

Kommirsakura? What? And I'm the one who's high? He's speaking gibberish! Giiiibbeeeeriiiiiisssshhhhh. Giiiiibebebeberrrrrrrrish. That's an odd word too. But you can't make a name out of it. Like Annie the kindergarten dentist. And her friend who also named Annie. Are there best friends in this world who have the same name? That'd be awkward. Ooh! What if there was a couple who had the same name? Like... Oh! Oh! What were they called? The singer and the llama? Taylor and Taylor! Or Paris and Paris! Wow, that's gotta be awkward during sex. Especially with the llama. Llamas spit a lot.

"Sakura, are you okay?"

"Llamas spit." And I laugh. My laugh is weird today.

"Do they?"

"Yeah... But you're not a llama."

"No, I'm not."

"Good... I like you. You're not a llama."

I'm not entirely sure if I'm still awake. I mean, what I'm seeing, right now, it has the same visual quality as a dream. Maybe I'm sleeping. Maybe that's what weed does to me. I already knew it mellows you out, but I didn't think it would make me fall asleep.

"Am I sleeping?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"... No." He snorts and starts laughing. I like his laugh. It's pretty. "Do you want some more?"

"Sure."

"Then come here."

He pulls me to him and takes another puff from the joint. He looks at me for a while. I try to take the joint from him but it's just sooo faaaaar. And he takes it away so fast. And he crashes his lips to mine. Fine, I'll kiss him. He holds my head to his and I feel him blow the smoke into my mouth. So that's what he's doing! I push the smoke down into my lungs and blow back into his mouth. It's like my brain's climbed out of my head and is looking at us from outside of me. I can see us, making out with smoke seeping out of our mouths.

That's pretty hot.

And Sai's a great kisser.

. . .

A/N: I feel like I'm going to get slugged for this. I hope nobody flags me for writing in drug use. Again, I'm not promoting it.

Well, anyway. There you go! Twenty-one pages.

By the way, I'm not getting paid by Poptart. It's just the first thing that came to my mind. If it gets you to eat Poptarts, um... You're welcome?