Saving Scott

6: "But I have spaghetti noodle arms."

A/N: In an attempt to actually get this book finished, I'm forcing myself to write at set times during the days, so chapters may be coming out quicker, but I feel like the quality is dropping. Sorry about that :/ and a big thanks to anyone who is still with me!

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"Dude, I need pickles."

I glanced over at the sandwich Matt was making - if anyone could even call it that. It was a mess of marshmallow goo, potato chips, lettuce, cheese, and something else that looked like it didn't belong. "You definitely do not need pickles."

"Mm." Matt stared harder and then nodded to himself. "I need pickles."

"Oh my god," I whispered. "How high are you?"

"How high are you?" he shot back, pushing away from the kitchen counter to head for the fridge. I shook my head at him and returned my attention to my phone. Lakyn hadn't texted in awhile, but I'd learned he just did that sometimes.

"Do you think I'm a bad person?" I asked.

Matt looked confused but he shrugged as he dropped pickles onto his monstrosity. "I mean, dude, you're letting me do this, so..."

"Shut up," I said, and watched Matt cut it in half. He slid part of it my way and I hated how my stomach responded. People put jalapenos on nachos. It was basically the same thing. Just with bread.

"I'm serious." I took a bite. It was delicious. What the hell.

"You need to lay off the pot, dude," Matt said between a mouthful. "If you're going to start questioning the universe and shit, then you're too far gone."

"Lakyn doesn't think we'll be friends when we go back to school. Says my status is too important or something like that." I found an unhelpful teacher meme in my camera roll that I hadn't used on him and sent it.

"That's dumb," Matt said. "You're not that kind of guy."

"I know right?" I tapped my phone against the counter, waiting for him to reply. He didn't. I took another bite of my sandwich instead. It tasted like crap, but I kind of loved it. "I should invite him to my party."

Matt nodded along. He'd finished his half of the sandwich and was licking nutella off his fingers. "Lakyn hates parties."

"Not if they have alcohol," I pointed out.

"Dude, Lakyn hates you," Matt said.

I waved him off and grinned as my phone buzzed, expecting it to be Lakyn. The fact that it kept buzzing meant it was a phone call.

"Yikes," Matt said.

It was my father. I sighed and answered, but before I could even open my mouth, he demanded, "Where are you?"

"Matt's," I said.

"Well come home," My father demanded. He sounded like I'd asked him a stupid question and he was supplying the obvious answer. "Now."

I thought about fighting, but I'd been crashing at Matt's all week. I was sure his mother was ready for a break from me, and that my own mother was getting anxious. I sighed and shut my phone.

"Back to jail?" Matt asked, when I nodded he said, "Dude, that sucks."

"You say 'dude' a lot when you're high," I told him.

He shrugged. "I know, dude."

***

"Your junior year is coming up," Dad said. "You're growing up. Becoming a man. These next few years are very important."