Free Shrimp by Rachel Cohn

and interesting and scary-cool, and I would like to go back again, but under different circumstances. If I go back I would want to stay with my brother and his boyfriend instead of my bio-dad, and Shrimp should come cuz he would love all the museums and art galleries and, um, just art everywhere, like the graffiti on the subways and the hip-hop spray painting on the sides of random brick buildings and on the huge water tanks that sit on the roofs of the bigger apartment buildings. Shrimp would be digging that city something serious."
    Why was I telling Iris all this? These were the words
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    that should have filled my empty-air conversation with Shrimp. I was dying to tell him about New York--and I still hadn't heard about his faraway adventures.
    "You have good taste in men," Iris said.
    "I agree." I didn't always have such good taste, but Shrimp changed all that.
    Iris announced, "Now, for our special treat." I was thinking, Chocolate soufflé? Did someone make a chocolate soufflé? They're really hard to make but so delectable, but Iris's idea of a special treat was way different than my own. I lifted my head from the hammock to see Iris reaching into the pocket of her caftan dress, from which she pulled out a lighter and a big fat blunt.
    Iris is so the coolest mom ever.
    She lit and took a nice long hit. She didn't let out one cough, and she blew rings with the exhaled smoke. Worship her! Caffeine is my drug of choice, but who was I to turn away the J when Iris passed it my way; special treat indeed. The smell of that baby was way too nice to bother debating the wisdom of sharing in the experience with my beautiful, unfaithful true love's mother. Mmmm, nice smell. Nice.
    "Humboldt's best," Iris said. So that is what she meant by the little deposit left by her friends in Humboldt County.
    I took a short drag--it had been a long time for me, like sophomore year, and nobody back at that boarding school ever scored bud this sweet and STRONG--but I still hacked out the exhale.
    "Try another--slower, shorter," Iris advised.
    I took another hit, breathing in slowly so the smoke could go down deep without being overwhelming. Ahhhhh. Nice Humboldt County, well done.
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    "Tell me about yourself, Cyd Charisse," Iris said. One more hit and I passed the joint back to Iris. I could feel the rage over the Shrimp-Autumn hookup not exactly going away but dissipating into a mellow feeling of Well, I don't have to like it, but fair IS fair. Loo-eese.
    I kinda felt like singing but instead I talked in beats, like my words had rhythm and I was some beatnik poet. "I'm thinkin' 'bout a perm name change to CC. I'm trying to take my own identity and give that movie star back hers." Come to think of it, I will only call Java by his real name--Wallace--from now on, to downgrade his sex appeal to me.
    "College?" Iris said.
    "Pass, yes, I will pass," I said, but my J-inspired attempt at rap came out sounding more like Pssst, Yoda, pssst.
    "CC, I'm thinking you and Shrimp are going to have a fresh start, move past all that nonsense Shrimp and Wallace told me about involving your parents. Your folks just need to relax. You're a grown woman now, independent."
    EXACTLY.
    I remembered how Nancy had told me, at the time of my Little Meltdown Incident, how Shrimp had come by the house after I left for New York and apologized to Nancy for us being "young and stupid" before the events leading up to Alcatraz. I wasn't sure if that was a sign of his intention for us to get back together once I returned home or just an unfortunate case of sucking up, but suddenly I had to know, right away.
    No amount of weed can mellow out the basic hypergrrl in me.
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    I got up from the hammock. "Laters, Iris," I said. "I need to talk to your son. Thanks for the Humboldt Special."
    "You're welcome, CC," Iris said. 'And just for the record, I have no problem if you ever want to spend the night, so come back soon. I hear you like to bake, and we've got plenty left over for