I try but you see, it's hard to explain (Julian Casablancas fanfic)

4. Hanging out

I make my way upstairs. 316, 318, 320. I knock and Albert opens the door, but only barely and hastily ushers me in. A cloud of smoke and a familiar stench engulf me instantly - we're in Sharky's room. His real name's Sean, I think, but I've always known him as Sharky and he's our weed dealer. I haven't seen him this year yet, did he skip the first day of school? How has he not been kicked out yet? I'd like to know his secret. Sharky's sprawled out on the bed and Albert's sitting on the floor amongst a bunch of pillows with... Casablancas. Oh, fuck me. He's wearing the kind of clothes I thought he would - ripped jeans and a vintage Camel cigarettes t-shirt. He looks much happier than the other times I saw him, or maybe he's just drunk, I remark, my eyes trailing over to the half-empty bottle of whiskey next to him. He looks shocked to see me, and is that a hint of shame I see? I must be hallucinating. Sharky jumps off the bed and pecks me on the cheek. "What's up," he says as a form of greeting rather than a question and hands me the bong. He never talks much. In fact, for a stoner, he's generally very serious. "This is Julian," Albert motions to Casablancas who's avoided looking me in the eye till now. "Um, hey. You can call me Jules," he says sheepishly. I could be a bitch right now and denounce him in front of everyone, and they'd tell him to fuck off because they're my friends but I won't, because Albert looks happy and I'm not one to stir up stupid drama and create tension. So I reply with a courteous smile, fake - a skill I've mastered. "Should we really be getting high our first day back?" I turn to Albert with a concerned look. The grin on his face disappears but a second later we burst out laughing. The rest of the evening goes by quickly - half of the time we're giggling like maniacs and the other half of the time we're engaged in what feels like the most mind-blowing discussion. It's weird to think this is the same Julian as from English class. He's actually a somewhat likeable guy. A bit shy, even. He'll say the most interesting things sometimes, and I catch myself almost smiling at his jokes every once in a while. He laughs through his nose and his eyes twinkle when he's about to say something silly. At one point, we send Albert to the vending machine to get snacks, but he returns only seconds later, wide-eyed and distressed, talking about how he almost ran into Dave. It's almost midnight when everyone decides to go to their rooms to get some sleep.  

Feeling creative and not quite sleepy enough yet, I'm about to get out my sketchbook and paints when I hear a light knock on my door. I assume it's Albert, or anyone really, except... Julian. He looks so painfully awkward that it's funny. "Hey," he rubs the back of his neck, "Um, I just wanted to say thanks for, you know, not saying anything. About, you know..." He's swaying and slurring from the whiskey. "I didn't do it for you," I say coldly, "I'm just not a bitch." "Yeah, I know... and look, I'm sorry about what happened in class today, I just... this place is pretty strange, I don't really know how to handle it..." When I don't say anything, he continues, "And you know, I thought you were like, this stuck-up know-it-all or something, but you're like, the coolest fucking chick." "Maybe you shouldn't be so quick to judge people you don't know. Who knows, you might actually make some friends in this place. Good night Jules." I purposely call him "Jules" and give him a small smile, genuine this time, before shutting the door so he knows we're okay.