Reefer

A/N: This story's been in my brain and I just want to purge it. Just want to let you know a few things before I start:

1. I'm writing this for fun and while I look over it before I post, I don't have a beta. I'm only human and I'm usually up typing late at night, so there are probably some errors. If that bothers you a lot, don't bother reading it. With everything going on in the world, a few errors in a fanfic aren't going to be the thing to kill you.

2. I'll be updating this story a lot as well as my other story "Under My Thumb." I just finished my college semester and I finally have time to write things I actually have fun with. Yay! So, get ready for a shit ton of updates.

3. Leave reviews, don't leave reviews, whatever you want to do. I love you all regardless.

Prologue:

BPoV:

Sometimes, I like closing my eyes when I'm driving. It feels like suicide with the backdrop of flickering highway

lights. My 90s Civic seems to huff at me as I hold onto the steering wheel with a white knuckled grip. Today, I'm closing my eyes, willing the God or gods or whatever the fuck is out there to take my life. Horns blare and my eyes shoot open. My self-preservation side always forces me to look at traffic, keeping me alive. I hate that side. Some days—most days—I'd rather be dead. Homelife's that kind of bitch.

Eyes now open, my heart races to the point of hypertensive. I pluck out my pack of Marlboros from the glove compartment and stick a cig between my lips. After a long drag, I feel a bit more human. Soon, I'll have to drench myself in perfume, knowing my homeroom teacher will surely pick up on the scent. Ms. Jenkin's a bitch on her good days. On her bad days, she's trigger happy with detention slips.

I pull into the student parking lot twenty after nine. I'm already on the school shit list so another tardy isn't going to make much of a difference. Edward's leaning against his car, all cool and collected with his messy copper hair and wrinkled band T-shirt. His jeans dip down on his hip, loose in the crotch and thigh in a way I know he finds appealing. Wish he would wear tight clothes—something to highlight the thighs I like to bite at night. His cock fills my study breaks, explaining why my homework's always late and my test scores are less than stellar. I slipped out of the car and headed toward him, feeling my pulse quicken at the sight of his crocked smile. He's got something for me—something that's going to light up the whole night. Fuck my history test. All I need his toned frame and reefer.

"What you got?" I asked as I trudge over rain puddles. Forks is all rain on a nonstop cycle. "Your brother come through for us?"

Edward rolls his eyes. He's always playful when he's in a good mood. "That's how you great me?"

I rise up on my toes to press my mouth into his scruffy cheek. His five o'clock shadow tickles my skin, making my body pulse as images of that same scruff rubbing somewhere lower pops into my brain. Might be good to pull him into the bathroom during lunch hour—we can get to work in the science building's handicap stall.

"Morning." I rubbed my nose against his, letting the gold hoop in my nose glide over his skin. "So, you get it?"

He tugged on his jacket pocket until I see a fire sealed plastic bag. It's the chronic his brother told us all about. Months ago, I was just smoking spliffs and a bunch of really steamy seedy shit. Two weeks ago, some quiet kid brought something along called hydrochronic. Didn't know what the fuck it was at the time but it sent me spinning. The high was insane as my whole body cracked and all my muscles relaxed. Ever since, I've been nagging Edward about it. Finally, he pulled through, getting us a quad for afterschool. James, his older brother, wasn't good for much, but he was always good for weed.

"Babe, you're inviting me over, right?"

Edward grinned and gave me a nod. "You're my girl, right?"

I was his. Even when shit sucked and it felt like the world was ending—felt like our lives were about to be totally obliviated—I was one hundred percent his.