By Stanmaps
PART I: FRIDAY NIGHT
CHAPTER 1: UNNOTICED, IGNORED, AND NOT TALKED TO
It was an autumn Friday evening; cold and snowy. Halen sat on the city bus waiting for her stop.
She was returning home from afternoon gymnastics practice. It used to be fun and all, but not at this new school. She still didn’t know anyone. Practice, and school, for that matter, was one boring, long exercise routine when you have no one to talk with. Well, the good news was she wouldn’t have to think about it or school for awhile what with the weekend.
Her bus finally came to her stop. She grabbed her backpack and headed to the side door in the back. It closed in front of her.
“Hey!” Halen yelled to the bus driver. “I’m trying to exit!”
He looked up at her through the large rear view mirror. “Oh, sorry, kid. I didn’t see you getting off.” He pulled the lever and the side door opened.
How typical, Halen thought. Such was the story of her life since she moved to this stupid city. She was always unnoticed. Ignored. Not talked to.
Halen ran home from the bus stop. Her tears streaking down her cheeks.
She walked up to her apartment building and fumbled for the keys. She noticed a man checking his mail inside. Unable to find her keys immediately in the front pocket of the backpack, she wrapped on the door. “Could you open the door please?” she asked through the door. The man ignored her and walked off into the elevator.
Halen growled.
What an asshole. What is with me and the people around here? Am I completely invisible? She ripped open the front pocket even further and searched harder. Finally, she heard her keys fall out. She unlocked the lobby door and stomped up the stairs to her and her mom’s apartment.
How could this day get any worse, Halen thought. As she walked down toward the apartment, she got her answer. Sure enough, to add insult to injury, out of 2E came the only good-looking guy in the entire complex, perhaps the whole stupid city. Halen thought his name was Chris and that she heard he went to college in the city, but that's about all she knew. What mattered was how much of a crush she had on him ever since she and her Mom moved into the new place. But of course, like everyone else in this stupid town, he didn’t even know she existed.
“See you later,” he called out into his apartment as he shut the door and began locking it behind him. He turned and started to head Halen’s way! Maybe this time, they’d actually meet! That would certainly brighten her day. Halen quickly wiped away her tears and tried to put on a smile. Oh God, why did he have to see her like this?
Halen’s knees nearly gave way as they approached each other. Seeing him walk toward her sent a flurry of fear and excitement through her body. God, what if he says hi? Is my hair a mess? Does it look like I was crying? College guys hate little girls who cry. Oh God, here he comes!
Smile.
Make eye contact.
He walked right passed her.
Oblivious.
Halen stopped in her tracks. How devastating! She heard the doors to the stairs open down the hall behind her. She didn’t even bother to look. She was invisible. Tears started down her cheeks.
Crushed, Halen walked up to her apartment, 2B, and unlocked the door. She slumped passed the living room and kitchen to the end of the hall. She needed to lock herself in her room and shut the world out. As she grabbed the doorknob to her room, she noticed a post-it note on the door. It was from her mom.
Out to see a movie with Darryl then to the bars. Be back late. Make dinner. Be good.
Her tears turned to anger. “Again?” she yelled. She ripped the note off the door and threw it to the ground. She slammed her door and whipped her backpack onto the bed. It unzipped and exploded papers and books across the room.
Halen screamed in frustration.
“Great. Fucking great,” Halen said aloud. “How typical.”
She threw off her coat and threw it to the ground in a fit of rage. She then threw herself onto her bed. Her mom was going to married that guy. She knew it. What a loser! She felt herself get angrier and angrier. She had to stop thinking about her mom and her stupid boyfriend.
Calm down, she thought. Calm down.
But there was no reason to calm down. She hated this city and she hated her life. She hated her school and she hated all the people in it.
And here it was another Friday night with nothing to do. While others were out with their friends, getting a bite to eat, seeing movies, and having a good time, she was stuck at home. Alone.
Pathetic.
Even her mom was out having a great time.
“You can always study,” her mom would say.
Halen laid there looking up at the ceiling, depressed and miserable. Her outreached arm accidentally bumped one of the books that had tumbled out of the backpack and onto the bed. She glanced over at it. It was her history book. Yet another one of her classes she was acing without even trying. She purposely knocked it off the bed and onto the ground.
That’s when she noticed the bag.
Hanging halfway out of the exploded backpack, a large bag sat exposed. What's that, she wondered. She sat up to get a better look and discovered it was a ziplock bag. What the hell was this?
She pulled the backpack over and grabbed the baggie. It was full of green stuff. It looked like plants. Plants? What the hell? She guessed it must have been marijuana.
She cautiously opened the bag to smell its contents. The overwhelming stench washed over her. She quickly zipped it back up. It stank so bad! Yep, that had to be weed alright!
Alright, what did my crazy locker partner Tracy do and why the hell did she put this bag of marijuana in my backpack, she asked herself. Was this some sort of prank? Or joke? Was she trying to get Halen in trouble? Or was it sitting in Halen’s room simply because Tracy was too stoned to realize she had dropped it in Halen’s backpack instead of her own?
Halen figured it had to be the last answer. Tracy was always stoned.
How typical. If there was one person Halen could not stand it was Tracy. How she got stuck being her locker partner was anybody’s guess. Tracy embodied everything that was wrong with school. Everything that was wrong with this city. Everything wrong with this move.
Tracy was a complete airhead. All she cared about was partying and having a good time. And just about everyone at school, she completely ignored Halen. Here it was about four weeks since she transferred to the new school and Halen was convinced Tracy had no idea who she was or why she was sharing her locker. It was like Halen didn't exist.
Oh yeah, maybe it had something to do with all the pot she smoked. Tracy was such a complete stoner. And when she wasn’t already stoned, she was busy getting stoned. Most of the time she could barely string two sentences together. She was such a complete moron. Rotting her brain with this stuff. Flirting with all the boys. Getting laid.
Such a fucking loser.
To make matters worse, she had a ridiculous body. Like unbelievable. In a bad way. Tracy had big, giant, enormous breasts! And she flaunted them...constantly, like the little slut she was. Unlike Halen, who behaved herself, Tracy didn't and always got attention. Guys would go ga-ga over her. It didn’t matter that she was so incredibly stupid or high, guys could not get enough of her. Or, they could not get enough of them rather.
It made Halen sick.
Halen looked down at her chest. Nothing. It was almost some cruel cosmic joke that she was paired up with Tracy. They were complete opposites - in personalities, but also in breast size. Tracy had no brains, partied and lived for the moment. Halen, on the other hand, had enough brains and good sense for the both of them.
Halen stood up and looked at profile in her full-length closet mirror. She was a beanpole. Pathetic. Not one ounce of fat on her. It had always been that way. At least as far back as she could remember. No wonder the hot guy from 2E doesn’t even know I’m alive, she thought. There was nothing to look at. Nothing to catch his eye.
But why the hell is the world so fixated on boobs anyway? So what? They’re just fat. Bouncy globes of fat. Nothing special at all. Awkward and stupid really. At least Halen was blessed with not having to deal with them getting in the way every day. She could fold her arms, sleep on her stomach, hell, even run and do gymnastics. And yet, despite her tall, slender good looks, Halen constantly felt she was being completely overshadowed by "Tracy Two Tits".
Further proof the world is backwards, Halen thought. What could be worse than hanging out with a complete ditz like Tracy? What the hell did the guys even talk to her about? Were they all that shallow? Why the hell was Tracy so damn popular? Was it all about the boobs? Is that why she always got so much attention?
Then Halen remembered: oh yeah, Tracy was the school slut. She put out. Halen figured that out the instant she laid eyes on her.
That certainly would explain all the guys. And guys, Halen realized long ago, were all slaves to their dicks. They’d fight over each other just to flirt with Tracy, much less to “spend time with her.” How they could be so predictable and disgusting was beyond her. Further evidence that guys are soooooooooo stupid.
Depressed once again, Halen threw herself back on her bed and gazed up at the ceiling. God life sucked. Even her bed sucked! It wasn’t comfortable at all.
She turned and noticed the bag again lying on the bed. She pulled it closer for inspection.
What the hell did Tracy - or anybody for that matter - see in this stuff? She re-opened the ziplock bag and was once again overwhelmed by the horrible stench. Yeech! Halen zipped it back up as fast as she could and threw it back into the backpack. Well, no high for "Tracy Two Tits tonight", she thought. The thought of Tracy marijuana-less brought a sly smile to her face. Serves her right for being so stupid. Maybe she'd smarten up.
Halen’s stomach was growling. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast. She quickly changed into her sweatpants and a t-shirt and headed to the kitchen.
Dinner for one again. It sucked cooking and eating alone. Looks like grilled cheese and milk again tonight. Whoopie. She poured a huge glass of milk and chugged it. She refilled it and waited for the grilled cheese to cook.
Once cooked, she sat in the living room and put on the TV. She set the remote down on the tray beside her next to the aquarium.
She looked at her fish. Princess, Goliath, and Angel Eyes swan slowly and gracefully. Boy, they had it easy, she thought. She noticed the filter bubbling, aerating the water. She watched as the tiny bubbles percolated upward toward the surface. The hypnotic bubbles soothed Halen a bit. Watching her aquarium always had this effect on her.
But her stomach growled and she turned her attention back to her sandwich and the TV.
After she had eaten, drank her milk, and cleaned up, she lazily returned to her room and popped on the TV. She mindlessly flipped through the channels. It sucked being alone. Especially on a Friday night. Why was she here in this new city again? Why was she so lonely and miserable?
Oh yeah, her mom. Her divorced mom.
Her mom had dragged Halen here from out of state, from where Halen had grown up. Not that she could remember why. Her mom had her reasons. Thanks to her mom, she was stuck in the big city away from her friends. She never wanted to move here. Her mom managed to get a job a few weeks back. In this godforsaken place.
And it sucked.
Her mom said the move was all about money and the job she got. But Halen wasn’t stupid, she knew her mom was keeping something from her. And it wasn't too many days later that her mom met Darryl. Darryl the dweeb. The began dating.
How pathetic. Her mom could do better.
Screw this. Here she was hanging out by herself on yet another Friday night. She hated being the new kid in school. She had only been there since the holiday break, but it seemed like an eternity. She didn’t know anybody. And getting to know people took time. It was taking forever to make new friends. She missed her old friends. She missed Wendy. She at least understood her. Here, no one did.
But then nobody noticed her. She hadn’t met any girls who were cool and the guys, well, most of the guys were after Tracy. Not her. Even though they’d be hovering around the locker, they’d completely ignored her. It was like she was invisible. It was like Halen couldn’t make an impression on anyone to save her life.
“Give it some time,” her mom would say. Sure, whatever. Easy for you to say, she’d think. Easy for you to say when you run off on another date with the dweeb. Sure, leave your good little daughter alone.
Halen shut off the TV and faced reality. No one cared about her. Not her mom, not anyone in her school, and certainly, not the dweeb. Nor would they ever. She might as well face the fact that she was going to friendless this year, stuck in a school where nobody cared about her or, hell, even knew her name. She was unnoticed, ignored, and rarely talked to.
And when you’re nobody and no one cares about you that’s when you end up getting used. That’s when you get stuff like ditzy locker partners sticking giant bags of weed in your backpack. Just to fuck with you. What the hell is that all about? Sure, just use me, she thought. Get me in trouble, would she? Go ahead, screw with the new kid. Sure, I’ll look after your weed. Yeah, don’t worry about me. What the hell will she care if she got caught with it and go to jail?
So typical. So fucking typical. It’s just like Tracy to “think” that way.
Halen sat there with the TV off for a few minutes. She had worked herself up again. She was depressed and lonely. The silence deafened her. Fuck this, she thought. There wasn’t anything on to take her mind off of her misery. She’d have to do what she usually did in these circumstances when she’d get down: draw. She got up and reached into her backpack for her drawing journal.
But the bag got in the way.
She brought the baggie to her face. God, this is a lot of pot, she thought. She could just make out the god awful smell from the bag. It seemed to seep through. The second she caught a whiff of it, her nose upturned. It smelled like a skunk.
She held it away from her face. Seriously, what the hell do people see in this stuff? Does all marijuana stink as bad as this, she wondered. She glanced back at the bag dangling from her outreached hand. She slowly turned the bag, slowly rotating it in front of her face. They were green but had little purple and red colors mixed in. Huh. Interesting.
She held her nose and opened the bag. She couldn’t smell it. She carefully took few buds out and held them in the palm of her hand. The colors were even more vivid from outside of the plastic bag. She let go of her nose and pushed the buds around in her hand. So weird. People actually smoke this stuff, she thought. She began to transfix on the colors. It was as if someone else placed the next thought in her head: what if she tried it?
She snapped out of it. There’s no way this could be good for you, she thought. She knew about all the dangers from school. The thought of burning this stinky plant only to inhale its smoke made her gag. God knows what it would even taste like.
She put the buds back into the bag. As she began zipping it, she paused. She held it up to her face and looked once again at its contents. The thought drifted into her brain: there’s so much here. So much. Even if she tried just a little bit, who would know? It wasn’t like that slut Tracy had the brains to figure it out. Halen could easily return it Monday without Tracy being any the wiser. And hell, her mom wasn’t home nor would she be for hours. She was out with the dweeb at the bars.
She shook off the thoughts. Was she actually thinking this?
She had some TV to watch.
But no one was home, she thought again. Her mom would likely return home drunk. She wouldn’t know. All Halen needed was… was… What the hell do stoners use to smoke pot with, she thought.
She didn’t know.
Okay, sure. Yeah, you smoke it with a pipe. She knew that much. But where the hell was she going to get that? She didn’t own a pipe.
Wait, wait. If there’s one thing she knew she was it was smart and resourceful. If that blonde bimbo Tracy can figure this out, then I certainly can, she thought. All she had to do was think. All she needed was access. Access to information.
And that’s when it hit her - how stupid - duh, the web!
It was an autumn Friday evening; cold and snowy. Halen sat on the city bus waiting for her stop.
She was returning home from afternoon gymnastics practice. It used to be fun and all, but not at this new school. She still didn’t know anyone. Practice, and school, for that matter, was one boring, long exercise routine when you have no one to talk with. Well, the good news was she wouldn’t have to think about it or school for awhile what with the weekend.
Her bus finally came to her stop. She grabbed her backpack and headed to the side door in the back. It closed in front of her.
“Hey!” Halen yelled to the bus driver. “I’m trying to exit!”
He looked up at her through the large rear view mirror. “Oh, sorry, kid. I didn’t see you getting off.” He pulled the lever and the side door opened.
How typical, Halen thought. Such was the story of her life since she moved to this stupid city. She was always unnoticed. Ignored. Not talked to.
Halen ran home from the bus stop. Her tears streaking down her cheeks.
She walked up to her apartment building and fumbled for the keys. She noticed a man checking his mail inside. Unable to find her keys immediately in the front pocket of the backpack, she wrapped on the door. “Could you open the door please?” she asked through the door. The man ignored her and walked off into the elevator.
Halen growled.
What an asshole. What is with me and the people around here? Am I completely invisible? She ripped open the front pocket even further and searched harder. Finally, she heard her keys fall out. She unlocked the lobby door and stomped up the stairs to her and her mom’s apartment.
How could this day get any worse, Halen thought. As she walked down toward the apartment, she got her answer. Sure enough, to add insult to injury, out of 2E came the only good-looking guy in the entire complex, perhaps the whole stupid city. Halen thought his name was Chris and that she heard he went to college in the city, but that's about all she knew. What mattered was how much of a crush she had on him ever since she and her Mom moved into the new place. But of course, like everyone else in this stupid town, he didn’t even know she existed.
“See you later,” he called out into his apartment as he shut the door and began locking it behind him. He turned and started to head Halen’s way! Maybe this time, they’d actually meet! That would certainly brighten her day. Halen quickly wiped away her tears and tried to put on a smile. Oh God, why did he have to see her like this?
Halen’s knees nearly gave way as they approached each other. Seeing him walk toward her sent a flurry of fear and excitement through her body. God, what if he says hi? Is my hair a mess? Does it look like I was crying? College guys hate little girls who cry. Oh God, here he comes!
Smile.
Make eye contact.
He walked right passed her.
Oblivious.
Halen stopped in her tracks. How devastating! She heard the doors to the stairs open down the hall behind her. She didn’t even bother to look. She was invisible. Tears started down her cheeks.
Crushed, Halen walked up to her apartment, 2B, and unlocked the door. She slumped passed the living room and kitchen to the end of the hall. She needed to lock herself in her room and shut the world out. As she grabbed the doorknob to her room, she noticed a post-it note on the door. It was from her mom.
Out to see a movie with Darryl then to the bars. Be back late. Make dinner. Be good.
Her tears turned to anger. “Again?” she yelled. She ripped the note off the door and threw it to the ground. She slammed her door and whipped her backpack onto the bed. It unzipped and exploded papers and books across the room.
Halen screamed in frustration.
“Great. Fucking great,” Halen said aloud. “How typical.”
She threw off her coat and threw it to the ground in a fit of rage. She then threw herself onto her bed. Her mom was going to married that guy. She knew it. What a loser! She felt herself get angrier and angrier. She had to stop thinking about her mom and her stupid boyfriend.
Calm down, she thought. Calm down.
But there was no reason to calm down. She hated this city and she hated her life. She hated her school and she hated all the people in it.
And here it was another Friday night with nothing to do. While others were out with their friends, getting a bite to eat, seeing movies, and having a good time, she was stuck at home. Alone.
Pathetic.
Even her mom was out having a great time.
“You can always study,” her mom would say.
Halen laid there looking up at the ceiling, depressed and miserable. Her outreached arm accidentally bumped one of the books that had tumbled out of the backpack and onto the bed. She glanced over at it. It was her history book. Yet another one of her classes she was acing without even trying. She purposely knocked it off the bed and onto the ground.
That’s when she noticed the bag.
Hanging halfway out of the exploded backpack, a large bag sat exposed. What's that, she wondered. She sat up to get a better look and discovered it was a ziplock bag. What the hell was this?
She pulled the backpack over and grabbed the baggie. It was full of green stuff. It looked like plants. Plants? What the hell? She guessed it must have been marijuana.
She cautiously opened the bag to smell its contents. The overwhelming stench washed over her. She quickly zipped it back up. It stank so bad! Yep, that had to be weed alright!
Alright, what did my crazy locker partner Tracy do and why the hell did she put this bag of marijuana in my backpack, she asked herself. Was this some sort of prank? Or joke? Was she trying to get Halen in trouble? Or was it sitting in Halen’s room simply because Tracy was too stoned to realize she had dropped it in Halen’s backpack instead of her own?
Halen figured it had to be the last answer. Tracy was always stoned.
How typical. If there was one person Halen could not stand it was Tracy. How she got stuck being her locker partner was anybody’s guess. Tracy embodied everything that was wrong with school. Everything that was wrong with this city. Everything wrong with this move.
Tracy was a complete airhead. All she cared about was partying and having a good time. And just about everyone at school, she completely ignored Halen. Here it was about four weeks since she transferred to the new school and Halen was convinced Tracy had no idea who she was or why she was sharing her locker. It was like Halen didn't exist.
Oh yeah, maybe it had something to do with all the pot she smoked. Tracy was such a complete stoner. And when she wasn’t already stoned, she was busy getting stoned. Most of the time she could barely string two sentences together. She was such a complete moron. Rotting her brain with this stuff. Flirting with all the boys. Getting laid.
Such a fucking loser.
To make matters worse, she had a ridiculous body. Like unbelievable. In a bad way. Tracy had big, giant, enormous breasts! And she flaunted them...constantly, like the little slut she was. Unlike Halen, who behaved herself, Tracy didn't and always got attention. Guys would go ga-ga over her. It didn’t matter that she was so incredibly stupid or high, guys could not get enough of her. Or, they could not get enough of them rather.
It made Halen sick.
Halen looked down at her chest. Nothing. It was almost some cruel cosmic joke that she was paired up with Tracy. They were complete opposites - in personalities, but also in breast size. Tracy had no brains, partied and lived for the moment. Halen, on the other hand, had enough brains and good sense for the both of them.
Halen stood up and looked at profile in her full-length closet mirror. She was a beanpole. Pathetic. Not one ounce of fat on her. It had always been that way. At least as far back as she could remember. No wonder the hot guy from 2E doesn’t even know I’m alive, she thought. There was nothing to look at. Nothing to catch his eye.
But why the hell is the world so fixated on boobs anyway? So what? They’re just fat. Bouncy globes of fat. Nothing special at all. Awkward and stupid really. At least Halen was blessed with not having to deal with them getting in the way every day. She could fold her arms, sleep on her stomach, hell, even run and do gymnastics. And yet, despite her tall, slender good looks, Halen constantly felt she was being completely overshadowed by "Tracy Two Tits".
Further proof the world is backwards, Halen thought. What could be worse than hanging out with a complete ditz like Tracy? What the hell did the guys even talk to her about? Were they all that shallow? Why the hell was Tracy so damn popular? Was it all about the boobs? Is that why she always got so much attention?
Then Halen remembered: oh yeah, Tracy was the school slut. She put out. Halen figured that out the instant she laid eyes on her.
That certainly would explain all the guys. And guys, Halen realized long ago, were all slaves to their dicks. They’d fight over each other just to flirt with Tracy, much less to “spend time with her.” How they could be so predictable and disgusting was beyond her. Further evidence that guys are soooooooooo stupid.
Depressed once again, Halen threw herself back on her bed and gazed up at the ceiling. God life sucked. Even her bed sucked! It wasn’t comfortable at all.
She turned and noticed the bag again lying on the bed. She pulled it closer for inspection.
What the hell did Tracy - or anybody for that matter - see in this stuff? She re-opened the ziplock bag and was once again overwhelmed by the horrible stench. Yeech! Halen zipped it back up as fast as she could and threw it back into the backpack. Well, no high for "Tracy Two Tits tonight", she thought. The thought of Tracy marijuana-less brought a sly smile to her face. Serves her right for being so stupid. Maybe she'd smarten up.
Halen’s stomach was growling. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast. She quickly changed into her sweatpants and a t-shirt and headed to the kitchen.
Dinner for one again. It sucked cooking and eating alone. Looks like grilled cheese and milk again tonight. Whoopie. She poured a huge glass of milk and chugged it. She refilled it and waited for the grilled cheese to cook.
Once cooked, she sat in the living room and put on the TV. She set the remote down on the tray beside her next to the aquarium.
She looked at her fish. Princess, Goliath, and Angel Eyes swan slowly and gracefully. Boy, they had it easy, she thought. She noticed the filter bubbling, aerating the water. She watched as the tiny bubbles percolated upward toward the surface. The hypnotic bubbles soothed Halen a bit. Watching her aquarium always had this effect on her.
But her stomach growled and she turned her attention back to her sandwich and the TV.
After she had eaten, drank her milk, and cleaned up, she lazily returned to her room and popped on the TV. She mindlessly flipped through the channels. It sucked being alone. Especially on a Friday night. Why was she here in this new city again? Why was she so lonely and miserable?
Oh yeah, her mom. Her divorced mom.
Her mom had dragged Halen here from out of state, from where Halen had grown up. Not that she could remember why. Her mom had her reasons. Thanks to her mom, she was stuck in the big city away from her friends. She never wanted to move here. Her mom managed to get a job a few weeks back. In this godforsaken place.
And it sucked.
Her mom said the move was all about money and the job she got. But Halen wasn’t stupid, she knew her mom was keeping something from her. And it wasn't too many days later that her mom met Darryl. Darryl the dweeb. The began dating.
How pathetic. Her mom could do better.
Screw this. Here she was hanging out by herself on yet another Friday night. She hated being the new kid in school. She had only been there since the holiday break, but it seemed like an eternity. She didn’t know anybody. And getting to know people took time. It was taking forever to make new friends. She missed her old friends. She missed Wendy. She at least understood her. Here, no one did.
But then nobody noticed her. She hadn’t met any girls who were cool and the guys, well, most of the guys were after Tracy. Not her. Even though they’d be hovering around the locker, they’d completely ignored her. It was like she was invisible. It was like Halen couldn’t make an impression on anyone to save her life.
“Give it some time,” her mom would say. Sure, whatever. Easy for you to say, she’d think. Easy for you to say when you run off on another date with the dweeb. Sure, leave your good little daughter alone.
Halen shut off the TV and faced reality. No one cared about her. Not her mom, not anyone in her school, and certainly, not the dweeb. Nor would they ever. She might as well face the fact that she was going to friendless this year, stuck in a school where nobody cared about her or, hell, even knew her name. She was unnoticed, ignored, and rarely talked to.
And when you’re nobody and no one cares about you that’s when you end up getting used. That’s when you get stuff like ditzy locker partners sticking giant bags of weed in your backpack. Just to fuck with you. What the hell is that all about? Sure, just use me, she thought. Get me in trouble, would she? Go ahead, screw with the new kid. Sure, I’ll look after your weed. Yeah, don’t worry about me. What the hell will she care if she got caught with it and go to jail?
So typical. So fucking typical. It’s just like Tracy to “think” that way.
Halen sat there with the TV off for a few minutes. She had worked herself up again. She was depressed and lonely. The silence deafened her. Fuck this, she thought. There wasn’t anything on to take her mind off of her misery. She’d have to do what she usually did in these circumstances when she’d get down: draw. She got up and reached into her backpack for her drawing journal.
But the bag got in the way.
She brought the baggie to her face. God, this is a lot of pot, she thought. She could just make out the god awful smell from the bag. It seemed to seep through. The second she caught a whiff of it, her nose upturned. It smelled like a skunk.
She held it away from her face. Seriously, what the hell do people see in this stuff? Does all marijuana stink as bad as this, she wondered. She glanced back at the bag dangling from her outreached hand. She slowly turned the bag, slowly rotating it in front of her face. They were green but had little purple and red colors mixed in. Huh. Interesting.
She held her nose and opened the bag. She couldn’t smell it. She carefully took few buds out and held them in the palm of her hand. The colors were even more vivid from outside of the plastic bag. She let go of her nose and pushed the buds around in her hand. So weird. People actually smoke this stuff, she thought. She began to transfix on the colors. It was as if someone else placed the next thought in her head: what if she tried it?
She snapped out of it. There’s no way this could be good for you, she thought. She knew about all the dangers from school. The thought of burning this stinky plant only to inhale its smoke made her gag. God knows what it would even taste like.
She put the buds back into the bag. As she began zipping it, she paused. She held it up to her face and looked once again at its contents. The thought drifted into her brain: there’s so much here. So much. Even if she tried just a little bit, who would know? It wasn’t like that slut Tracy had the brains to figure it out. Halen could easily return it Monday without Tracy being any the wiser. And hell, her mom wasn’t home nor would she be for hours. She was out with the dweeb at the bars.
She shook off the thoughts. Was she actually thinking this?
She had some TV to watch.
But no one was home, she thought again. Her mom would likely return home drunk. She wouldn’t know. All Halen needed was… was… What the hell do stoners use to smoke pot with, she thought.
She didn’t know.
Okay, sure. Yeah, you smoke it with a pipe. She knew that much. But where the hell was she going to get that? She didn’t own a pipe.
Wait, wait. If there’s one thing she knew she was it was smart and resourceful. If that blonde bimbo Tracy can figure this out, then I certainly can, she thought. All she had to do was think. All she needed was access. Access to information.
And that’s when it hit her - how stupid - duh, the web!
CHAPTER 2: A CLOSE CALL
Halen headed over to her computer, powered it up, and sat back in the chair. As it was booting up she held the bag out in front of her. The top was still open and she was getting used to the smell. For some reason she started thinking the smell was tolerable. Not too bad, actually.
And just a little bit dangerous.
After a few dead leads, she found a site that literally listed out a hundred ways to smoke marijuana. Here’s an easy one, she thought. All it required was some aluminum foil. Of course, she’d also need a lighter. But that part would be easy since her mom smoked constantly. Satisfied that she had solved the problem, and mentally patting herself on the back for being smart and resourceful, she headed down to the kitchen to get the foil. Her mom’s big blue lighter sat on the counter. She grabbed it. She then grabbed the aluminum foil and tore a large sheet off. Huh. She figured it was the first time she’d ever used aluminum foil. She headed back upstairs.
Following the website’s overly detailed instructions she quickly formed a pipe out of aluminum. She was surprised at how good she was at making it. It was kind of fun.
After taking some time to admire her make-shift pipe, she followed the remaining website instructions: drop in a bud of weed. She grabbed the bag and peered into it. The friendly smell greeted her once again. That doesn’t smell too bad after all, she thought. Maybe they could make a perfume out of it.
She grabbed one of the buds and held it up to her eyes. The swirls of colors were actually pretty. The thoughts started coming again: this is kind of cool. I wonder what would happen if I smoked it? What would it be like to get high? It would be interesting to see how Tracy spends most of her waking life. Sort of like an experiment.
This bud is awfully big, she thought. It was the size of a pecan. Maybe there was a smaller one in there. She started digging around. The wonderful smell wafted up her nose. The thoughts returned: I wonder why they say this stuff is so bad. It’s kind of neat, really. All the pretty colors and smells. I wonder how much of this I could smoke? The motion of her finger digging threw the buds felt pleasant.
Halen shook the thoughts from her head. These were all rather large buds of weed. She grabbed one out of the bag. Was this the smallest one? They all seemed pretty big. Some too big. She turned the bud between her fingers. Geez, does Tracy she smoke this much?
The website didn’t say anything about the amount to put into the pipe. It only gave a detailed illustrated description of how to smoke it and to “fill it up.”
Well, she thought. It would just have to do. She plopped it into the pipe. It fit perfectly.
She got set the bag down by the computer and tested the lighter. It lit.
She was almost ready. She reached over to the window and cracked it. The smoke would have to have some place to go. She didn’t want her room smelling of marijuana should her mom eventually come home. Then again, her mom and the dweeb would probably be drunk again and not smell anything anyway. Still, she couldn’t be too careful. She didn’t want the neighbors to see her. She pulled down the blind to match the crack of the window. The winter air was cold.
Setting the pipe and lighter down, she ran over to the far window and pulled the blinds.
Then the door to her room.
She surveyed her room. There, she was all set. Total privacy. No one would know.
She quickly sat back at her desk and grabbed the pipe and lighter. Okay. She knew what she had to do. It was time to light the bud and inhale the smoke that came out. It was as simple as that. Just light the bud and suck on the pipe until the smoke enters the lungs. It couldn’t be that hard, she figured. After all, if an idiot like Tracy could –
Wait, what else did she have to do? Halen shut off the lighter. Oh yeah, hold it in. The website said to try and hold the smoke in for as long as possible. That didn’t sound too hard. She’d give it a try.
She flicked the lighter. Putting her lips up to the pipe, she held the flame over the weed. Her arm was a little unsteady. Was she frightened or excited? She couldn’t tell. Steady, she told herself. Suck in on the pipe to get the flame to curl down.
Just then her screen saver kicked in and the screen went to black. Her eyes quickly unfocused from watching the end of the pipe and onto the monitor of the computer in front of her. She saw her reflection and paused. Seeing herself with her arm raised and the make-shift pipe in her mouth took her by surprise. She held still and looked at her reflection.
What the hell was she doing?
She couldn’t believe herself! This was so wrong! Here she was about to do drugs! She nearly smoked marijuana! She couldn’t believe she had been so tempted. She didn’t want to become a druggie. She didn’t want to risk getting addicted. Why was she thinking such strange thoughts? She had to put everything back.
She threw the pipe and lighter down on the desk and pushed it away, knocking the mouse and shutting down the screen saver. The “how to smoke pot” website sprang back to life.
That was close, she thought.
She stood up from the chair and started pacing her room. What the hell is going on? This was not like her. She didn’t drink. She didn’t smoke. And she certainly didn’t do drugs. Is this some test Tracy concocted? Paranoia kicked in. Was she being watched? Was this all a big joke?
Calm down, she thought. Everything’s fine. Just put everything away and get back to watching TV.
She grabbed the pipe and lighter and threw it in the ziplock baggie. Just zip this up and put it back in the backpack, Halen said to herself. Pretend you never saw it. It’s not good having it out.
She marched over to her backpack and opened it. She noticed the books and papers strewn across her bed and room. What a mess. She had to clean it up. She quickly gathered up her books and notebooks and stuffed them back into the backpack one after the other. Finally, once done, she zipped up the backpack and set it beside the bed. She sat back onto the bed with a sigh.
There. All done. It’s put away. No more strange thoughts about smoking marijuana and doing drugs. I am not smoking Tracy’s stupid, wacky weed. I don’t want to be like her. I know better than that.
She glanced down at her side and noticed the baggie sitting beside her. What the hell? I could have sworn I threw it in, she thought. “You’re going back into the backpack,” she said as she lifted the heavy little baggie with one hand. As it passed by her face, she paused.
She stared at the baggie in her hands and held it closer. All this worry over some stupid dried out plants, she thought as she brought it closer to her eyes. The smell once again seeped out of the baggie and wafted to her nose. The green, red, and purple colors called to her. What’s the harm trying it just this once? What could it possibly do to her that she couldn’t handle? She didn’t need to smoke a lot, she figured.She should just try a little and see what it was all about. Not to get “high” or anything, but just to see what Tracy saw in it.
Her beautifully sculpted pipe sat trapped on top of the buds in the bag. She stared at it and then re-opened the baggie. The smell of the marijuana lofted upwards and brought a smile to her face. She had to try a little. After all, she reasoned, she had spent all that time making the perfect little aluminum pipe.
CHAPTER 3: TRACY'S STUPID, WACKY WEED
Halen found herself already back at her desk. It’s now or never, Halen, she thought to herself. With a sudden burst of determination, she pulled out the pipe and lighter and sat Tracy’s bag of weed down. She put the aluminum pipe to her lips and shakily held out the lighter over the bud still sitting in the bowl. She was nervous, but it was exciting. All she needed to do was light the bud and inhale the smoke.
She flicked the lighter and held it over the bud. Just start inhaling, she thought. Just like the website said. She did and noticed the flame of the lighter being sucked down on top of the bud. I’m doing it, she thought, I’m doing it. Keep sucking. The bud began to burn and glow orange and red. She started feeling something hot and rough on her throat. Was it the smoke?
She kept her eye on the bud. More and more of it glowed orange as the flame continued to burn into it. The hot feeling in her lungs continued to grow until all of a sudden she knew she couldn’t breathe in any more. Her throat closed up and immediately she burst into coughs. She lost her grip on the lighter and it flicked off. She had to hold it in, she thought. But her eyes began watering and she began coughing no matter how hard she tried to fight it. It took all that she had to keep from dropping the pipe.
After her fit of coughing ended, she wiped her eyes. Smoke was everywhere, filling the room. The wonderful smell of Tracy’s weed had intensified and now wafted wherever the smoke dispersed. It was as if it was free.
Halen sat there with the pipe and lighter in hand. The taste of the weed wasn’t as bad as she thought it would be. It didn’t taste exactly as it smelled although the smoke smelled sweet. Shit, there’s so much smoke, she thought! She began waving what she had coughed out toward the open window. It was no use. She watched as most of it dissipated across the room, disappearing.
Well, she had tried it. She had had her one “hit.” And from the ache in her side, she had done it right. She actually managed to inhale it. It wasn’t all that hard. Still, it did hurt a bit. Halen grabbed the side of her chest by her ribs. Her lungs were sore.
She looked around the room. Was she stoned? She didn’t feel anything. Well, if you didn’t count the pain in her chest and the fact her throat was a bit scratchy.
She sat there and waited. A few minutes passed.
Nothing.
What the hell? What a stupid drug, she thought.
She glanced at the pipe. The bud was still smoking and a little trail of smoke was working its way upwards toward Halen.
Am I wasting this, she thought? Should I have a little more? She grabbed her side again. Could her lungs even handle another? For a person who didn’t smoke, her lungs took a beating on that one.
But by the time she had mentally asked herself those questions, the small trail of smoke has made its way gently to her nose.
Of course, it made sense. She needed to take a second “hit.” One wasn’t enough to do anything. Not that she wanted to get high, that is. You know, she just wanted to test its general effects. But perhaps if she had one more she would be able to “feel something” this time.
Come on, do it, she thought. It’s not like she had anything else planned for the night.
She brought the pipe back up to her lips. It was warm. She flicked the lighter and once again held it over the bud. She began inhaling. The flame rekindled the bud and it began to burn and glow red once again. That’s it. Easy, she thought. She once again felt the smoke slide down her throat, but it didn’t burn her as much this time. Her lungs inhaled and expanded as she continued to suck it in.
Then a strange thought hit her: stop.
She did. She flicked the lighter off and pulled her lips away from the pipe. She closed her mouth and held her breath. She saw a stream of smoke curl upwards from the end of the pipe as she backed off it and brought it down in her lap. She sat there, lips pursed. She was in control of the smoke. It didn’t hurt. But how long did she have to hold it in? Seconds felt like minutes. She was beginning to feel light-headed and her eyes began to water again. Don’t let it go yet, she thought to herself. Hold it in. Keep holding…
Halen’s lungs finally rebelled expelling a huge plume of smoke out her mouth followed by a series of small coughs. The smoke blew toward her computer and wafted over the monitor. She could see the screen through the cloud: “How to smoke pot.”
Okay, that was a bit better than the first one, she thought. She hadn’t coughed as much and her chest didn’t hurt as bad. She was a little light-headed. Was she high? She didn’t know. Soon she caught her breath and the light-headedness quickly subsided.
She took inventory. She felt the same.
What the hell?
She stood up. Nothing. How long does it take to feel anything, she wondered. Maybe all the stoners just liked getting light-headed from holding their breath to long, she thought.
Outside of her chest aching a bit, she felt the same. Normal.
She looked down at her pipe. There seemed to be half a bud still left. It smoldered a bit. Maybe she needed to smoke the entire thing? Maybe it was like mom’s drinking. She’d be fine for a few glasses, and then after awhile she’d start acting stupid and begin slurring her words. It would make sense that you’d need to have more of it in your system, she reasoned. If it was true with adults and their alcohol, why would it be any different with marijuana?
She felt her chest. Could she manage to smoke any more? The first inhale hurt a bit. But, strangely, this one didn’t. She figured the secret was not to take in too much smoke to quickly. She sat back down in the chair and placed the warm aluminum pipe back up to her mouth.
She paused. Did she want to really do this? The thought of smoking it one more time excited her. She could feel her body becoming excited again. She even noticed her nipples becoming erect from under her shirt.
Yeah, one more, she thought. It couldn’t hurt. She flicked her mom’s blue lighter on and began inhaling. The bud dutifully ignited and the sweet-smelling smoke began to fill her lungs. You’re getting good at this, she thought. Her lungs expanded and filled with smoke. She could feel her chest tighten and her bra fight back. It was uncomfortable and working against her. The pressure was too much and she unfortunately coughed out the smoke prematurely.
Damn, that was a waste, she thought. What’s up with my bra? It was extremely uncomfortable all of a sudden. She had to take it off. She carefully sat the smoking pipe and lighter down at the desk and pulled off her shirt. She stood up, unhooked her bra and let it fall to the floor.
And that’s when she saw them. Her breasts had grown.
Oh my God, I’ve got tits, she thought. She reached up and cupped her breasts. They fit nicely in her hands. What the hell? Where did these come from?
She quickly walked over to her closet doors. The doors were full length mirrors. She stood in front of them and couldn’t believe it. She had sprouted boobs. There they were protruding from her chest. Not very big, but they were breasts, nonetheless. For the first time in her life she was no longer flat-chested.
She looked down at the ground where her bra lay. No wonder it hurt so much, her breasts had outgrown her sad, triple-A bra.
She returned to the mirror and began admiring her new figure. She would need at least a B cup now, she thought. She posed in the mirror. How cool.
She sat back at her desk lost in thought. Why had they decided to grow now? Tonight? And so quickly?
She glanced at the pipe. It was still smoking.
Oh, no. She was wasting it! She started waving her hand to disperse the smoke rising from the bowl of the pipe. It was still burning. She didn’t know what to do. She wanted to put it out. She grabbed the pipe and blew on the glowing ember hoping to stop it from burning. It glowed only more orange and began burning even more. The smoke wafted up her nose and she sneezed.
Okay, if you couldn’t put it out that way, she thought, she’d have to do it the other way. She definitely didn’t want to throw it out, especially while it was still burning. She decided to finish it while it was still lit.
She brought the pipe up to her lips and began inhaling. The smoke from the burning bud retreated into the pipe and down her throat. Her lungs slowly expanded. She was so focused on trying to finish the bud she didn’t notice she had inhaled as far as she could go. She pulled away from the pipe and coughed a bit but she managed to hold it in.
She looked back at the pipe. The smoke had begun rising from the bowl again. Damn it, there’s more. Screw holding this, she thought. She exhaled the smoke toward the window. She was surprised how much she could hold. Once she exhaled the last of it, she turned back to the pipe and inhaled deeply once again. The bud glowed brightly and she sucked in as much smoke as she could. Getting her fill, she pulled away from the pipe and, while holding it in, checked to see how much of the bud was left.
Thank God, she thought. It was almost finished.
She turned again to the window and quickly blew out the smoke. She returned once more to the pipe and inhaled. The smoke continued to pour into her. She was getting really good at this now, she thought. Like a machine. She continued inhaling trying to use up the rest of the bud. Soon, tiny pieces of it began being sucked into her mouth. She knew it was done. She pulled away from the pipe and looked at the bowl. There was nothing left. She had won.
She sat there victorious holding the last of the smoke in her lungs. She was getting light-headed again but knew it was form the act of smoking, rather than Tracy’s weed. She turned to the window and blew the last of the smoke out.
She sat back in the chair and tried to catch her breath. She threw the pipe back down on the desk and it fell along side the baggie. Halen grabbed her head to ease her dizziness. The light-headedness slowly subsided and she returned once again to normal.
She took inventory once again and found, to no surprise, that she was fine. Totally fine.
Figures, she thought. It figures it wouldn’t effect me. Stupid Tracy must be more susceptible to marijuana. Perhaps it doesn’t affect smart people.
Halen sat there. She felt a strange pride in knowing she had smoked it all. And even though it didn’t do anything to her, she could now say she did it and not have to worry any more about it. She closed the window and pulled the rest of the shade down. She opened her top drawer, shoveled the baggie, pipe, and lighter into it, and closed it. She was done with Tracy’s stash of weed. On Monday she’d return it and no one would be the wiser.
Now, what about these breasts, she thought, as she looked down at her chest. This was the real story of the night. Her nipples were extremely erect which she figured was from the open window. She reached down for her t-shirt but couldn’t draw her attention away from her nipples.
They seemed to be moving outward. She began to feel a strange sensation in her breasts, a rising heaviness and her nipples lead the way. Her breasts which were pointy began to fill out. She could feel her skin stretching. She cupped her breasts once again with her hands. Soon, her growing boobs pressed her fingers apart as they grew wider than her palms. Oh my God, they’re totally growing again!
Halen looked around the room in a slight panic. She felt strange sitting at her desk while this was going on. What the hell was happening? She sat up in the chair and could feel the weight of her mammories as they expanded outward and downward. These were no longer breasts, these were boobs.
Her nipples, which she could always see since the day she was born, were beginning to point away from her. Her expanding breasts were pushing them farther from her chest. With her right hand, she pulled up on her right boob so she could see her nipple better. She grabbed it with her left hand to hold the boob steady. Sure enough, her aureole was expanding too. She lost her grip under the expansion and her right boob flopped back down and shook like jelly.
Finally the growth spurt slowed and stopped. Her new breasts were round, firm, and hung low on her chest. They stuck out from her body, a sight she had never seen, or hoped to have seen.
How big had they become? How big had I become, she corrected herself. She lifted them in her hands, they were heavy and felt much more sensitive than her small tits had been. They were so squishy and…fat. Something Halen had never experienced. They must be as big as those Playboy models. Maybe Cs or possibly Ds. She didn’t know. All she knew was they were a hell of a lot bigger than she was before she started smoking the weed.
Wait, Halen thought. She glanced at the closed drawer where she had put the marijuana. Did smoking Tracy’s weed cause her boobs to grow?
She scolded herself for thinking such a stupid thought. Everything she ever read about pot talked about other effects, not about breast growth. She shook her head in disbelief.
And yet, here she was with actual breasts for the first time in her life…
She had to see her new boobs in the mirror. She quickly stood up and was thrown off a bit by their size. It was like someone had wrapped a heavy weight around her chest. Catching her balance she walked over to the mirror.
They were beautiful.
She was beautiful.
She couldn’t believe her eyes.
She was finally a woman: long brown hair, beautiful blue eyes, slender body, and now, finally, some…boobs. For the first time she had some fat on her, and it was where it counted.
So, this must be what Tracy’s secret was, she figured. Tracy had such big boobs because she smoked this special weed. She must be smoking it every day. But still, that wouldn’t explain why Tracy was so out of it and stoned all the time. Halen felt fine. Tracy must be doing some other drugs, she thought. That wouldn’t be too surprising, she thought.
Halen found herself kneading her right boob in the mirror. She began to realize what everyone saw in these things, she thought. They felt nice, so soft and fleshy. They were fun to play with and mesmerizing to look at. Now that she had boobs, maybe the guys at school would actually pay attention to her.
God, they were big. Well, actually, not really big. Just perfect. Well, almost perfect. Definitely nice to look at. And definitely nice to feel. She looked at her profile. She was amazed. Maybe now, she wouldn’t be unnoticed, ignored, and not talked to. How could you not look at these wonderful breasts?
She looked down at her chest and noticed she couldn’t see straight down to her feet. Her breast had grown to a size that it was impossible to see them from above. She tried flattening her right boob against her to see if she could see her foot, but could only see her toes. How bizarre, she thought. How big she really had become.
She was going to have to buy so many new outfits! Well, certainly some new bras. There’s no way these two would ever fit in her old bra. That bra was made for grade schoolers. She was now a full grown woman.
Then the thought occurred to her: maybe I should smoke a little more. She looked over at the closed drawer where the baggie and pipe lay. She looked back at her reflection in the mirror. Yeah, one more “toke” and they’d be even more perfect, she thought. She smiled slyly to herself.
She returned to the desk and slowly opened the drawer. There they were, waiting for her. It was if they knew she was going to come back.
She grabbed the baggie opened it up released the fragrance of weed. The sweet smell permeated her lungs once again. It smelled wonderful. She giggled and put her nose into it and breathed it in. They should make a perfume out of this, she thought. That would be wonderful and it would sell so fast.
She looked down at the buds. They looked so sad trapped in the baggie. I’ll make sure you all get out of there, she thought. She reached in and grabbed the saddest one. It was rather large, but pretty to look at. The red and purple hues swirled within the green. The size wouldn’t matter, she thought. She’d only take one more hit and let it burn away if it had to. The bud would understand. She said goodbye to the other buds and zipped up the bag. She set it gently back down into the drawer.
“You’re the prettiest one,” Halen said aloud to the bud she held in her fingers. “You’re going to be free soon,” she said as she plopped the bud into the bowl of the aluminum pipe.
“You’re a bit chubby, though,” she said and giggled. She had to widen the bowl a bit to get the bud to sit in there completely. After a little bit of work it sat in there comfortably.
It couldn’t wait to be free, she thought. Now, she had to watch how much she smoked, because she certainly didn’t want to become like Tracy, she thought. Just one more hit and her breasts would be perfect. Any more and my boobs would be too big. She didn’t want to end up as overdeveloped as Tracy.
She grabbed the lighter and held the pipe to her lips. She flicked the lighter and gently lit the top of the bud. She inhaled and the flame curled over the bud. It smiled and crackled for her, glowing orange. It joyfully turned to smoke and happily entered her lungs. Halen and the bud bonded and became one. She knew she was doing the right thing for the bud. And she knew it was going to make her boobs just a little bit bigger in return. When her lungs were full, she sat the lighter and pipe gently down so the bud wouldn’t get hurt. It smiled at her.
As she held in the smoke, she could feel the tingling in her breasts. So weird, she thought, but very cool. She looked down at her chest. Her nipples were erect and her breasts swelled slowly in size once more. The smoke was doing its job. She quickly returned to look at herself in the mirror. She could see herself holding her breath. She looked a bit funny. She noticed her eyes were a bit bloodshot. That’s strange, she thought. But the thought was fleeting as she fixated back on her chest. She could see her boobs swelling again. She could feel it too.
She started choking for air, but tried to fight it. Her breasts bounced with each cough as if telling her to hang on. Finally, she choked and released the smoke out into the room. She blew it at her reflection and when the cloud of smoke dispersed she stood amazed at her even bigger boobs. She was a bit light-headed, but it didn’t bother her this time.
She continued to cough a bit and noticed how her boobs vibrated with each rumble. They were happy and liked being big, she thought. She looked at herself up and down the mirror. She noticed her boobs hung lower on her chest, getting closer and closer to the top of her sweatpants with each growth spurt. She smiled and checked out her profile.
She wondered what size she was now. At least a D, she thought. Wait, maybe a double D. Now, she really felt like a woman. Every guy in school would surely notice her now. “Tracy, who?” they’d ask as they’d come up to her and her big new boobies. “Oh, the Tracy with the itty bitty boobies” they’d say.
She smiled at herself in the mirror.
The thought occurred to her that if she took a few more hits her boobs would be even more perfect. They might even meet in the middle of her chest. Perhaps she wouldn’t be able to see her belly button. That would be cool. She could have the biggest boobies in school.
She smiled and looked back at her desk. The bud was gently smoking away, the smoke waving to her. The lighter lay next to the pipe, ready to help. How cool her friends were. They understood her.
She slowly walked over to the pipe and asked if she could please have one more smoke.
Of course, the pipe said. But she knew he was going to say that. The bud was happy to see her again, and asked if she was ready. Halen was. Remember to hold me in as long as you can, it reminded her. She grabbed the pipe and put it in her mouth. It was still nice and warm. You know what to do, Halen, it said to her.
And she did. She grabbed her mom’s lighter again and lit the cute little bud. He sparked with joy and she began inhaling him. He liked it although she really couldn’t feel him entering her lungs. It no longer burned her. Don’t worry, the smoke is filling your lungs, the pipe reassured her. You just are getting used to the feeling. Just a little more, you’re doing fine. Halen listened to the pipe. After all, it was the bud’s best friend.
Okay, that should do it, the pipe said. Halen took him out of her mouth. That’s enough for now, set us back in the drawer so we can sleep.
“Okay,” Halen said aloud, some smoke wafting up out of her mouth.
No, no. Shhh. No talking. Hold it in, the pipe said.
Halen nodded her head yes. I’m sorry, she thought. It’s okay, the pipe smiled at her. She put the kind pipe, the smoldering bud, and the lighter back in the drawer and closed it. Nighty, night, she thought.
Nighty, night, they replied through the drawer.
CHAPTER 4: STONED
Halen slowly returned to the mirror and watched her boobs grow some more.
The smoke kindly reminded her it was still trapped in her lungs and was finished. She had forgotten about it while watching her boobies grow bigger.
I’m sorry smoke, she thought as she leaned her head back and freed the smoke into the air.
“It’s okay,” it said in passing. “Thanks so much for releasing me. I hope you are feeling happier and better than ever!”
I am feeling better than ever, Halen thought as she watched the smoke dissipate across the room. How nice of the smoke to wish her well.
Halen slowly turned to look at herself in the mirror. She stood amazed at her wonderful new body. She was the epitome of a woman! So much like a model, but better. She was tall, slender, but had great big boobies!She cupped her double Ds in her hands and stroked the sides of her breasts. Were they double Ds, she wondered? Or were they even bigger? How big did they make bras? She would need a new bra. She continued to stroke them. They were so fat and soft. Gentle to the touch. She liked everything about them and more importantly, they liked everything about her.
It was then she noticed the feeling. It completely took her off guard. It started at her feet. A sensation that uncorked and released thousands of tiny little bubbles within her. At first she wondered what it could possibly be. For a brief second she thought of the air bubbler in her aquarium. Slowly, but steadily a constant stream of bubbles magnified and tingled within her, rushing upwards. The more she started concentrating on the feeling, the stronger it became. She felt extremely lightheaded all of a sudden. But a different kind of lightheaded than when she had held her breath to keep the smoke in.
Whoa, she thought.
She reached out to steady herself and fell into the mirror. Her big boobs smashed up against the closet door and spread out. She steadied herself. What was happening?
The tiny bubbles continued to magnify and grow bigger within her. They were percolating from her feet and soon she could barely feel them. It was as if she were floating and yet, she knew she was standing on the ground. The bubbles began percolating even faster, rising higher up her legs and up her spine. Soon they bubbled up into her torso and into her arms. They felt good. When they finally percolated up through her neck and face, it caused her to smile. Whatever was happening now felt rather pleasant. She hadn’t ever felt this way before. She looked at herself in the mirror and saw herself smiling. It made her smile even more. Then giggle.
Her boobs jiggled with her. It was like they were giggling with her. They were in on the wonderful bubble joke. Together they giggled and jiggled. The bubbles swirled and engulfed her boobs. It felt wonderful relinquishing herself to the bubbles’ control. She felt buoyant and it made her happy.
It was in this wonderful moment, with this strange pleasant sensation creeping across her body, that Halen realized she no longer angry. She didn’t care about the move anymore. She didn’t care if she didn’t know anybody or had nothing to do on a Friday night. She didn’t care about slutty Tracy getting all the attention. Hell, she didn’t even care that her mom was out with the dweeb. Or the rude bus driver. All of that was all totally cool. Everything was finally okay.
In fact, it was better than okay. It was awesome.
The streams of bubbles within her became even more wavy and pronounced. She giggled at herself in the mirror and raised her hand to touch her reflection’s face. Her vision began to tunnel. It helped her to focus. “Hi,” she said to her reflection. She stared at her boobs protruding from her chest in the mirror. She smiled proudly at their new, fuller shape. She needed to smoke more and make them bigger, she thought. Just a teeny-weeny bigger and then they’d look perfect.
“Perfect,” she said to her reflection and giggled. “Perfect pretty titties…”
She laughed at word “titties.” Why was she talking out loud, she thought? It made her giggle more. Thoughts began bubbling up out of nowhere only to explode in her head and move on to bigger and better things. Each thought made her smile.
Wow…
I feel so good…
Hey, that’s me…
I’m a cutie…
I’m floating…
This is so cool…
I like my hair this way…
I got big boobs…
I never had big boobs…
They’re fat…
Wonder what Tracy’s look like…
They look like big eyes…
I love this booby weed…
The thought of “booby weed” made her laugh.
She concentrated on the strange feeling overcoming her. It was growing stronger. The fun little bubbles are taking over, she thought. She couldn’t fight it. Well, she hoped they liked big boobies.
She burst out laughing from her silly thought. The bubbles would like her boobies? It was hilarious. She couldn’t stop herself. Lost in laughter and a bit overwhelmed by the rapid floating sensation taking over inside her, she buckled to her knees. Her big breasts slid along the mirror as she stumbled forward.
Suddenly she collapsed and her knees hit the floor. For a second, the impact stopped the bubbles. Her head and body cleared. She realized she had fallen to her knees, but she hadn’t felt it. It must have been her big new boobs that threw her balance off, she thought.
She looked at herself in the mirror. She looked funny without a shirt on. She burst into laughter once again and the bubbling sensation returned in greater force. She enjoyed the rush as it enveloped her, finally making its way up to her brain. It finally occurred to her what was happening. All the weed she smoked, it didn’t just make her breasts bigger, it had finally caught up with her!
She realized Tracy’s marijuana had worked after all.
“Okay…Hhhalen…” she said slowly to her reflection. “…I think…thisss is…what…it…meansss to…be…hhhhhhhhhhhhhhiiiiiii...”
But she couldn’t finish the sentence. It was too late. She was only able to mouth the word “high” and instead of the word, all that came out was a quiet, pleasant moan. The bubbles had won. They had finally engulfed and taken over her whole body.
She was high!
The rush of the bubbles made her forget herself. She swayed in front of the mirror for a long time enjoying the numbing effervescence. The wonderful feeling was getting even more intense. She closed her eyes and became lost in the sensation. She felt as if she was drifting up to the ceiling.
Levitating.
Floating.
She now knew what “getting high” meant. And it felt so good. So very, very good.
Lost in the euphoric feeling, Halen continued to sway back and forth, kneeling in front of the mirror, as if to music she alone could hear. The effervescent feeling had completely taken her over. She watched with heavy eyes as her massive boobs jiggled to and fro. It was hypnotic and all she could do was smile stupidly in the mirror at herself. Her mind wandered…
I’m so high…
Tiny bubbles…
I smoked too much…
I smoked too much…booby weed…
She opened her eyes and laughed at the “booby weed” thought again. Her laugh threw her balance off. She pressed her hand up against the mirror to catch herself. She gazed at herself leaning up against the mirror. Her eyes felt so heavy and she barely keep them open. They were bloodshot. She smiled at herself grinning back at her. She was so high.
She leaned her head up against the mirror for more balance. She gazed at her huge boobs. They looked even bigger up close. She couldn’t take her eyes off of them. They were so huge…
Hi boobies…
My big, fat boobies…
I finally grew...
They're huge and so wonderful and all mine...
I like my boobies…
They're like so much bigger than Tracy’s…
God, they’re so huge and heavy…
Halen thought about grabbing one with her right arm, but for some reason she found she couldn’t move it. It wouldn’t respond. That’s when she noticed gravity tugging at her. Tugging at her arm. Tugging at her boobs. Slowing her down. Slowing time down.
Gravity doesn’t want me to fly away, she thought somewhat saddened. Her big boobs were keeping her from launching up to the ceiling, she thought. And that’s where she wanted to be. Floating carelessly.
Soon the feeling of overwhelming heaviness began to spread throughout her body. The bubbles were getting bigger, fatter, and oh so heavier. She needed to stand up, she thought. She struggled to muster the energy against the fat bubbles determined to slow her down. The feeling was growing. She was getting heavier and heavier.
She saw her arms reach out against mirror. She pushed with her right leg in order to lift herself from her kneeling position. She felt herself launch but the heavy bubbles within her made her lose her concentration. The next thing she knew her fat, tingling boobs were smashed up against the closet mirror before she felt herself floating and falling backwards toward the ground.
She landed on the floor with a crash.
Halen lay there wondering what happened. The bubbles had momentarily stopped from the crash. She opened her eyes and found herself looking up at the ceiling. She felt a strange moving sensation on her chest and looked down. It was her boobs. Each boob gently waved back and forth, pancaking on themselves. Her nipples sat taller than she had ever seen them, erect on two mounds of rippling flesh. They were so big her nipples pointed away from one another and she could feel some of her boobs falling into her armpits.
I think I fell…
The thought of herself falling on her ass made her laugh which immediately triggered a rush of bubbles. They quickly overwhelmed her body once again, heavier and more carbonated from the fall. The wonderful, euphoric feeling made her giggle and laugh.
She lay there enjoying the moment. After a while, she tried to get up, but the heavy sensation was all-encompassing. She could barely move. Her whole body felt as if it were a thousand pounds. She had never felt this heavy.
The thought then bubbled up: I’m stoned.
I’m so stoned…
She finally realized what that word meant. She couldn’t move. She was completely glued to the floor.
I’m too fat to fly…
I’m so heavy…
My fat boobies won’t let me fly…
She lay there helpless, a slave to the heavy bubbles percolating within. It felt wonderful, yet she knew she had to get to her bed. She’d be safe and comfortable there. With all her might, she fought against the heavy sensation that vibrated within her. It was so hard! Slowly but surely, she managed to fight back the heavy bubbles that clouded her brain and held her down. She was only a few feet from her bed, but she knew it would take every ounce of energy she had to float her body over.
It was easier to roll over than to get up. Slowly she began rolling over onto her stomach. Her huge right breast toppled onto the floor as she made her way over. Soon her left breast slapped against the other. It was such a strange sensation to feel them move from side to side across her chest. She felt…huge. Huge and oh so heavy.
Soon she found herself facing the floor, her breasts sandwiched and pressing up against her chest. She lay there a moment lost in the sea of heavy bubbles coursing through her body. She felt as if she was plastered to the floor. She couldn’t stop smiling. This must be what a floor feels like, she thought. How nice. I’d make a great floor.
Halen laid her head down on the ground. It was so heavy! She lay there distracted by the heavy percolating bubbles rushing within her, clouding her mind, and making her giggle with delight. She was so stoned. She couldn’t believe how powerful the bubbles were. They were completely in control. She could do nothing but lay there and enjoy the moment. Soon, the pressure on her chest was too great. She knew she couldn’t lay on her boobs for much longer. Slowly, she mustered up the energy to lift up her heavily clouded head and looked around.
The room was a blur. It knew she was stoned and it purposely warped and swayed in front of her, teasing her. Mustering all the energy she could, she slowly rose to all fours. She lethargically floated to the foot of the bed. She felt as if she were crawling, but she knew she was levitating. Her boobs hung from her chest and swayed in slow motion over the carpet like pendulums. Huge, fleshy pendulums. They were so heavy. The size of her boobs at this angle amazed her. She couldn’t believe they were hers. And yet, she felt as if gravity was reaching upwards, trying to grab them, and take them away from her. She had to hurry.
She knew she only had so much energy and the weight of her boobs were only making it harder. With great determination, she managed to float her way up to the bed. Once up, she let out a huge sigh. She was exhausted. She had spent soooooooo much of her energy getting safely on the bed. She was spent!
It was a lot of work, but oh so worth it. She could finally relax...
And, with that, the wonderful big bubbling sensation returned with full force and engulfed her entire body. She could barely keep her eyes open as she lay there helpless enjoying the intense floating sensation.
All her thoughts and cares bubbled away.
It didn't matter that she had no one to talk to....
It didn't matter that everyone ignored her....
It didn't even matter that no one ever noticed her...
She no longer was miserable or depressed. She was no longer angry. The wonderful marijuana bubbles and her big boobies made everything all right. So very, very right.
She melted into the bed with a big, happy euphoric smile.
Halen was stoned and she liked it.
End of Part 1
