"What'll it be?" Asked the young, attractive bartender, giving Boon a huge smile. I tried not to notice the way she rolled her eyes a bit when she glanced at me and my friends.
"Four of your cheapest beers, please, ma'am," Boon said, smiling back at the bartender, his impossibly white teeth gleaming in the dim lighting. That smile … it made me forget where I was, who I was with, what I was doing.
The bartender doled out one beer apiece and we moved to the back of the bar, taking a table that was already occupied by two younger guys, probably in their late twenties.
"We got any grass to spare?" Boon said, not even introducing us or his friends. The two guys looked Alicia, Becky, and I over slowly, taking their time with each one of us, their feelings about us not concealed at all. They were impressed. And maybe a little hopeful. Dream on, boys, I thought, sipping my beer. Becky was never going to give anything to someone who wouldn't call her his girlfriend, and Alicia might be a boy-loving party-girl but she wasn't exactly a slut, either. And me, well, I already knew who I was planning on ending the night with.
"For you? Sure. Always, my man," one of the boys said, leaning back and pulling a baggie full of odorous green stuff from his back pocket. He threw it on the table, not a care in the world about the fact that marijuana is, in fact, still very illegal in the state of Nevada. Boon picked up the baggie and held it to his nose, breathing deeply.
"Ah, shit, this is that Bubblegum stuff, isn't it? That we got from the Rattlesnakes? This is perfect. Anyone got papers?" Boon looked at the three of us and winked, that smile still lighting up his face. I felt woozy, and it wasn't from the beer or the weird environment.
The guy who had thrown the weed on the table pulled a package of rolling papers out of the other pocket and tossed them to Boon, who began to pick at the marijuana.
"So, you girls indulge often?" He asked, his attention fairly focused on the joint he was rolling.
"Never, actually. This is just for Alicia here. It's her goal for the trip," I said, leaning forward and admiring Boon's nimble fingers and the flick of his tongue over the paper.
"Oh? And what are your goals, ladies?" Asked the other boy at the table, the one who hadn't spoken yet. His eyes glimmered like he was expecting something crazy to come out of our mouths. Something like "have a six-person orgy in the backroom of a biker bar," I'd assume.
"I just wanted to gamble. And I did. I lost twenty bucks," Becky said, finally relaxing as she sipped her beer and leaned back into the seat.
"And you, Samantha?" Boon asked, finally meeting my eyes as he finished up with the joint. I blushed, my heart racing, as I tried to decide whether or not to lie. I decided that this trip was about growth. Old Samantha would be embarrassed and lie. New Samantha was better than that.
"Make out with a stranger," I said, as boldly as I could manage.
A wicked grin passed over Boon's face. He held the joint out to Alicia, his eyes not moving from my own. "Ladies first," he said, brandishing a lighter as Alicia held the joint to her lips.
"Right here in the bar?" Becky asked, mouth open in a comical look of shock.
"Trust me, honey, don't no one here give a damn," said one of the other boys. I noticed they were both looking at me with a similar look to the one Boon was giving me, and it made me blush even harder.
Alicia took a deep inhale and immediately began coughing and gagging; Becky pounded on her back while the boys laughed and several other men at the bar turned to our table.
"Try again, little sister, and this time hold it in," Boon said. There was something in his voice that was so patient and kind that it really contrasted his bad-boy appearance. I felt my heart melting just a little more.
Alicia sucked in again, this time holding in the smoke, then exhaled loudly, a plume of fragrant smoke rising over the table. The three boys applauded, joined by some other patrons who were watching, and Alicia beamed, handing the joint back to Boon. He sucked in deeply before passing to the boy who had provided the weed. The joint made its way around the table and Alicia hit it once more, her eyes glassy. She was giggling pretty much non-stop, and the boys were looking at her in amusement.
"So, what do you think?" Boon said at last, taking a deep inhale of his own.
"I like it. I feel goofy. Everything is slowed down. You guys should try it," Alicia said, her words coming out slurry but clear, turning to us with a huge grin on her face. Becky rolled her eyes and looked at me; I just shrugged.
"Well, I'll pass, thanks. Someone here needs to stay in control," she said, taking another sip of her beer.
"Samantha?" Boon said, holding the joint out to me. I thought of my father, the sheriff, and what he would think of me at that moment. Dad was actually fairly liberal, and wasn't really against marijuana, it was just his job to enforce the law. Still, I thought that he wouldn't be too happy about me trying it; then again, he probably wouldn't be terribly disappointed, either. Making a split decision, I nodded my head.
Boon smiled and handed me the joint; I looked at it somewhat nervously, more afraid of looking stupid trying to smoke it than I did about what would actually happen if I did. I held it to my lips and inhaled deeply; the thick, smelly smoke hit my lungs like a baseball bat and I coughed, feeling like I was going to throw up.
I shook my head, still coughing, but was determined to give it another go, if only to make up for my rather pathetic first attempt. Holding the burning joint to my lips again, I took a deep inhale, this time pushing away the desire to cough. Across the table, Boon's gaze was open and friendly, and I watched as he grabbed a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, coolly slipping one into his mouth.
Slip me into your mouth, I thought, seemingly out of nowhere, as I watched him. I blindly handed the joint to the boy sitting next to me, exhaling slowly. The smell was actually kind of pleasant, and I looked around with glazed-over eyes, seeing everything as if for the first time.
The noise in the bar seemed dulled. The music coming from the jukebox suddenly seemed impossibly beautiful. I wasn't scared. I felt warm, and giddy, and excited, and deep. It was like I was thinking from another part of my brain, one I'd somehow never even known was there. Everything seemed more real and more ridiculous at the same time, and I had trouble focusing on anything, including the conversation happening around me.
Alicia and I looked at each other and giggled. Boon was talking to the two other boys. Becky was just staring at us like we were from another planet. Suddenly, I felt a jolt of fear out of nowhere as a man came up to the table, standing behind Boon. Boon turned and looked up at the man; he was much bigger, bulkier, and hairier than Boon, but had some of Boon's good looks. Same blonde hair, same blue eyes, same slanted nose.
"Who are your new friends?" the man said, directing the question to Boon. Boon seemed a little on edge around this man, but he introduced us each in turn. I knew I had a stupid smile on my face, but couldn't seem to get rid of it for anything. Even when I rose to shake the man's hand and felt myself withering under his cold stare, I couldn't wipe that dumb smile off my face.
"Pleasure," the man said before turning back to Boon. "Can I talk to you for a minute, son? In private?"
Boon got up, clearly agitated, and retreated to a dark corner of the bar with the older man, who I took to be his father. The two boys at the table exchanged knowing looks.
"Who's that?" Becky asked.
"Tank. His dad, our leader," one of the boys said, raising his beer to his lips and taking a deep swig. "Could be trouble."
Leader? I thought to myself dazedly, looking around the bar. Oh. It's a club, I thought, finding myself surprised that I hadn't realized that earlier. Now that I was looking around, I saw all the men had similar tattoos and patches on their vests and jackets: the patches read "Cold Steel MC" and featured an image of a skull with glowing blue eyes. Cool, I thought. This was obviously a result of the weed and alcohol: sober Samantha, with her law-enforcement Daddy, knew enough about motorcycle clubs to know they were no sort of good.
"What kind of trouble?" Alicia asked, leaning forward, intrigued. I was intrigued, too. Everything seemed really, really intriguing. Especially the way the light hit the bar at that angle …
I nearly missed the conversation while I was dazedly admiring the light. When I shook my head, returning to reality, I had missed the beginning of whatever the boy was saying.
" … little pleasure trip. But not for Boon. He's got some beef with his pop. To be honest, he's got beef with everyone. Not, you know, in a bad way. We love him. He's just … different. Tank's probably pissed he brought you around," he said.