I Was Kind of Hoping You'd Stay.

I was caught off guard by her sudden question. We had hung out plenty of times. Going out to eat, me buying bud, or us smoking together. But that's all it was. I've only been in her apartment a few times, but all of the visits were like they were earlier. I was inside for a second before we left.
I'm not even sure that we could consider ourselves friends.
Close acquaintances? Is that even a thing?
I mean, sure, I helped out with her boyfriend a while back, but that's as far as it goes. Of course I was going to help her though, he seemed like a complete asshole. I know almost nothing about her, and she doesn't know anything about me. Why all of a sudden was she inviting me to stay the night? And was it even a good idea?
Finding myself leaning towards me staying, I tried to play out what would happen. We'd probably smoke some more, I'd get the munchies, then after that, we'd probably pass out.
Why am I making such a big deal out of this? It was a simple question with a yes or no answer.
Will I stay? Do I want to stay?
Answering honestly, yes.

"Yeah. I'll stay."
She gave me a slight smile and got out the van, walking up to her apartment without me. I quickly grabbed the roach out of the ashtray and shoved it in my pocket, knowing I could finish smoking it inside. She has to have a clip, or at least tweezers.
I opened my door then locked it, closing it as I started my small jog towards her.

I still couldn't tell if she wanted me here just because she was lonely and wanted the security, or if she had something completely different in mind for my stay.
But once again, maybe I'm just thinking too much. Maybe she considered us friends. Maybe she just wanted some company.

"Well, uh, make yourself comfortable. I'll be right back."
She quickly scurried away and picked up a few articles of clothing that littered the ground. I did as she told me. I made myself comfortable and sat on the couch, pulling my pill bottle of greens out. Already I can tell that most of it is going to be gone by the time I decided to leave.
When she returned, she was in a shirt that hung off one of her shoulders, shorts that barely peeked out from under the shirt, and her hair was thrown up in a neat ponytail. I found my smile growing wide when I realized what she was holding. Aside from a wooden box tucked under her left arm, in her right hand, she held a three chamber bong.
"Found this beauty at the smoke shack right before they got raided. They were selling pot, spice, bongs, anything really. I bought this then two hours later most of the employees are being hauled away in the back of a cop car."
She quietly laughed at her luck before placing the box in front of me and walking to the kitchen.
"Get out a grinder and smallest bag. That's it."

I did as I was told. Opening the latch and box, clips, tweezers, and razors were attached to the lid. Small zip-locks were filled with the green substance that I loved so much. Along with four different size grinders, small bowls, pieces to other bongs, a few packs of zigzags, lighters. Anything you could possibly need, she had it.
The middle had caught my attention. There was a small handle, only big enough the put your index finger in. As soon as my fingers made contact with it, Clem sat down beside me and snatched the box away.
"Jeez Michael. I said grinder and baggie. Nothing else."
She rolled her eyes and grabbed the two items I was told to get.
"Get out a roach clip for me?"
She nodded and handed it over. I smiled, retrieving the item from her then the roach from my pocket before clipping it and lighting it back up. it didn't last long. Two hits and it was gone.

A smiled played on my lips as I watched her pack the bowl of the bong, shortly after, the glass rim was around her lips and she was breathing in slowly. The only noise throughout her apartment were the bubbling sound she was causing. Finally, she pulled bowl away and cleared it.
There was something about girls that smoked that sparked my interest.
"Why're you looking at me like that?"
Breathing out the rest of the smoke that was in her lungs, she set the bong on the coffee table.
My smile faltered a little as I tried to hide it. I quickly looked down at the feet, wiggling my toes inside of my shoes.
"No reason."
"Whatever you say."
She quietly chuckled as she added more to the bowl before handing it over to me.I copied her actions and soon after I handed it back, my high got more intense. I was still high from the car ride, although it was more of a buzz.

She had fallen into my side, some time within the past twenty minutes. I leaned against the couch's arm rest, and she leaned against me. I didn't mind it. My arm made its way around her shoulder. When we spoke to each other it was barely above a whisper, there wasn't a need to be any louder. But all of that quickly ended when she excused herself too her restroom. I leaned back and started rubbing my face, trying to get rid of any tiredness that had started to show. After a few seconds my hands made their way down to my chin, being lightly scratched from my newly grown facial hair.
Minutes later, I had found myself laying down on the couch, and still without Clementine's company.

She finally emerged from the hallway and walked over to the fully occupied couch. I could tell she was trying to map out where she was going to sit in her head.
"I'm not moving. Not because I don't want to, but because I don't think I can. Make yourself comfortable however you want. I don't care if you sit on me."
She rolled her eyes and made her way to my legs, sitting between the back of the couch and my legs, having hers over mine.
"Have you ever thought about quitting? Or, ever tried quitting?"
"What? Smoking pot?"
"No. That other thing you do."
The atmosphere suddenly got tense between us, and I hated that it was caused by not having a filter between my thoughts and words.
"What do you mean?"
I watched her as she looked down at her legs, fidgeting with the sleeves of her loose shirt. I just couldn't keep my mouth shut, could I?
"I've seen them, you know. Your track marks. I didn't say anything at the time, but I saw what you cleaned off the table. Have you ever tried to stop?"
She sheepishly shrugged then slightly nodded. She still hadn't looked up at me. I knew she didn't want to talk about this. Who would want to talk about an addiction like this? Especially being addicted at such a young age. But I just wanted to know.
"It's a lot harder that just waking up and trashing all your stuff, flushing whatever drugs you have, and never needing a fix of it again."
"I never said it was like that..."
"Yeah. But I have tried. I guess I just liked myself more while I'm high. And being in the business that I'm in, it's a little harder to get away from the drugs."
For the split second she decided to look up at me, I could see some sort of anger in her eyes. Although she was hiding it well in her voice.
"Why don't you find something better, then?"
"Jesus Christ, Michael."
She pushed herself off of me and the couch, walking around the living room. She paced back and forth, chewing on her thumb nail. Obviously hating the fact that I brought this up, or even knew about it.
"It's not that easy. I've been doing this for years. It's kinda all I know. It's what pays my bills, buys me whatever I want."
"I know. Clem, I'm not an idiot. I know how this works. I'm just saying. How long ago did I help you with Jackson? Why do you keep yourself in an environment that constantly screams his name?"
"How do you know that that's the reason why I started?"
My eyes automatically rolled and landed on her, standing in the middle of the living room. Her hand dropped from her mouth to her side, and played with the loose threads on her shorts.
"Because I'm not stupid. I know you're smart enough that you wouldn't start shooting up out of the blue, that you're smart enough not to wake up and decide 'Hey! I'm gonna become a drug dealer today and start shoving needles full of shit into my veins.' So it had to of been him."
"Enough, Michael! Maybe having you here was a mistake..."
I sat up, gripping the edge of the couch. I'm not angry, I'm not upset. No. None of that. I suddenly felt nothing but concern and worry for her. Like I had when I first met her and got her away from him. I wanted her safe because I know she deserves it.
"Have you ever just thought about it like that though? He's the one that got you into all of this. You don't have to worry about him anymore. Why didn't you get out of all of this when you left him? Why let him continue to control your life?"
"I said enough. You should go."
She slowly walked towards her front door, her fingers hovered over the deadbolt.
"Do you really want me to go?"
Slightly nodding, she finally unlocked the door and opened it. She stood next to it and held it wide open, waiting for me to get off the couch and leave. I stood about a foot in front of her, towering over her small figure.
"I'm sorry, Clem..."
"Yeah. I'm not a total bitch, so, text me when you get home so I know you made it there safely."

I nodded and before I left her house, quickly and lightly, pecked her on the cheek. She didn't respond or do anything about it, she just closed the door behind me. The sound of the deadbolt was the only thing that was audible outside, then once it was locked, the dead of night greeted me. I walked to my van and quickly unlocked it before getting it. I put the keys in the ignition and sat there, not starting the van. I gripped my steering wheel, cursing at myself for acting like that. Couldn't I have just kept my questions to myself? No. I have to make myself look like a damn fool.
I groaned loudly before turning the engine over and driving away.

I tucked my phone back in my pocket after I sent Clementine a text. Telling her I was home and apologizing one more time. The wind wiped around me, sending my hair in every direction and giving me goose bumps. A cigarette hung loosely from my lips as I mumbled quietly to myself.
It was still quiet, aside from the waves crashing next to me. I'm not quite sure what possessed me to come here instead of going straight home. It was late, or early, depending on how you wanted to look at it. The sun should be coming up soon.
I took a drag of my cigarette and held it until my lungs had began to burn, then slowly released it, allowing the burn to continue for moments more. I slowly walked in the direction of the pier, dragging my feet to leave two long trails behind me. Once I reached the pier, I sat down under it, leaning against a supporting post. I flicked the ash off my cigarette before taking one last drag and burying it in the sand.
What am I doing here?

Notes

Turns out, even with someones help, there is still a lot of writers block.
I'm sorry for that, but finally! The next chapter! :D