A/N: Okay, I couldn't leave you hanging. I'm way too excited about this story to stop writing anyway. And a big thanks to hopelessromantic for ALWAYS reviewing (both of my stories). You're the best!
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Scott had been waiting patiently for everyone to fall asleep. He had been fighting sleep himself for quite some time. Auggie was the last person to drift off. He had wanted to talk to Scott. He was worried about him. Scott had really let his emotions pour out during group. He felt better; his friends had helped cheer him up, but still, something wasn't right. He just felt off tonight.
He had convinced himself that once he got rid of the pot he'd be okay. It was just guilt that was weighing him down. He felt guilty because everyone was so proud of him, so proud of his progress. What had he done? He was afraid of going to jail, that's really what influenced his decision. Jail vs. Horizon? That was such an easy choice. No, Scott hadn't done anything to be proud of: he was just getting by.
He waited a half hour after he was sure everyone was asleep before he crept out of the dorm. The cool night air was like a breath of fresh air. It woke him up and erased all signs of sleep from his mind. He looked around, making sure no one was watching for him. He slid his hand into the front pocket of his coat. He felt the plastic bag inside – the stash was safe. Quickly and as quietly as he could he made a dash for the woods.
It was darker than he expected. Twigs and leaves crunched under his shoes. He searched for a good spot to abandon his guilt. He made his way to a small clearing and sat down, trying to think clearly. He took the bag out of his pocket and held it, examined it. He threw it to the ground in disgust. This is what had been making him feel so terrible the last few days. It was ironic how something that used to make him feel so good now made his stomach turn in repulsion.
Scott thought back to the first time he had tried drugs. He was with Adam. He remembered how his heart had raced. He had been so scared, yet so excited. He remembered how he felt the first time he was high. His problems had seemed so far away then. He had felt whole again.
Scott thought for a minute and then lifted the bag off the ground. He held it for a few minutes. Should he? Was he seriously thinking about smoking it? After everything he had been through was he going to start all over again? Scott leaned back against a tree and thought about the last few weeks. The happiest he had felt was when he was high. What about the drug tests? He didn't have to take them every day, just randomly. Peter had said so this afternoon. What if he got caught? Would Peter really send him to jail? Did Scott even care anymore?
No. The answer was clear to Scott. He didn't care. He didn't care about anything, especially about what happened to him. The decision was made. Scott rolled a joint, lit it, and inhaled.