Iâm four days clean. Today makes five, if you help me get through. Tomorrow is six. It just keeps getting better from there. Meantime, youâre still smoking the olâ ganja, am I right?â
Lucy flushed with resentment. âMy parents threw me out because they caught me smoking. And they gave up on me. They refused to send me back to rehab. Now Iâm supposed to get clean all by mysel f ? Hey, Iâm trying. All Iâve done is a little weed, one time, and that was at a party.â
Ariana was immediately contrite. âIâve absolutely got no right to lecture. Of the two of us, Lucy, Iâm the one who started using hard drugs again.â
A little mollified, Lucy said, âWell, I did smoke weed. But like I said, it was a party.â
âThen you need to learn how to enjoy a party without being high. I bet you did, once.â
Lucy shrugged. She had a dim memory, probably from when sheâd been about thirteen.
âMaybe if you threw a party here, I could be, like,your sponsor, watch over you.â
âOh sure ,â said Lucy with a loud guffaw. âSomeone five days clean from cocaine is offering to sponsor a party? Thatâll work.â
âNot the party. Just you . Let other people smoke. You and me and probably a few other people, we stay clean, we have a good time anyhow. You and me, we take care of each other. The way we always have.â
Lucy picked up the spatula and flipped a pancake. âGet clean, huh?â
âOne hundred percent raw.â
Thoughtfully, Lucy said, âI guess I could be one of those âstraight-edgeâ punks, like Ruben.â
âWhoâs he?â
âGuy I know,â Lucy said carelessly. âPlays the drums. Yeah,â she added after a few seconds. âA party. I guess we probably should. I mean, schoolâs out on Friday. Weâve survived to the end of the school yearâsix months of official emancipation. That calls for a celebration.â
Ariana plucked at the top pancake on the stack and popped the fragment into her mouth. âGotta mark the occasion.â She grinned. âHand me the syrup. Letâs start talking about how weâre going to throw you your first drug-free party. And sweetie, I wanna hear more about this Ruben .â
JOHN-MICHAEL
BALCONY, VENICE BEACH HOUSE, SATURDAY, JUNE 13
The idea of a âschoolâs outâ party turned out to be popular with the housemates. They had a house meeting, where Lucy officially welcomed Ariana. John-Michael went along with the smiles and niceties even though heâd much rather be ignoring Ariana. It sucked to have a new person in the houseânow more than ever. Lucy knew that he and Grace were going through difficult times. Didnât it even occur to her to respect their privacy? For the first time in memory, John-Michael found himself feeling distinctly cool toward his former rock-camp buddy.
John-Michael had planned to cook at the party, but as things got under way, he found himself squeezed out of the kitchen by the gum-cracking, loud-talking southern redhead. Sheâd been in the house almost a week and was already beginning to act like she was in charge.
âSweetheart, allow me,â Ariana insisted when he tried to object. âYou gotta at least let me earn my keep.â
Candace saw the whole thing and took John-Michael by the elbow, leading him upstairs to the balcony. âTake no notice of the Wicked Witch of Claremont. We need to talk.â
The balcony had been designated a âchill-outâ zone, no drugs or music. Which made it, as far as John-Michael could tell, a âmake-outâ zone, because no one at the party was interested in engaging in deep and meaningful conversation. At least, not without some chemical aid.
John-Michael pushed his way past the couple making out on one of two rattan chairs. He vaguely recognized the girl who sat in the boyâs lap. âHey,