We Were Here: A New Adult Romance Prequel to Geoducks Are for Lovers (Modern Love Stories Book 1) by Daisy Prescott Page B

I needed to offer them something. Although the idea of my uptight Yankee mother ever getting high was crazier than Nancy Reagan passing around pot brownies.
    “Sure!” Maggie clapped her hand.
    “Have you ever smoked pot before?” Gil gave her an incredulous look.
    “Not really, but I did the inhale someone’s exhale thing freshman year.”
    I shrugged my shoulders and grabbed the bong.
    “It’s very pretty.” She stroked the tall glass cylinder.
    “Thanks. I know a local guy who hand blows them.”
    Gandalf the Gray was my favorite bong. Probably bigger than needed, various grays and white swirled through its clear glass.
    “He’s got real talent. Does he make other stuff not related to drug paraphernalia?”
    “Yeah, but the bongs and pipes are his best sellers.”
    Gil put in the CD of the Beastie Boys’ Paul’s Boutique . He and Maggie sprawled on the other bed. I leaned back on the pillows on mine. I couldn’t figure out their deal. They always seemed to be around each other, but I’d never seen them actually together like kissing or anything. If they were a couple, they weren’t into PDA. If they weren’t a couple, they acted like one. Weird.
    A knock sounded on my door. I jumped up to put the bong in the closet, then sprayed the room with aerosol room deodorizer.
    “Yeah?” I moved closer to the door, but didn’t open it.
    “It’s Selah.”
    Exhaling in relief, I let her in. Selah and I had a history, but that’s what it was: history. I blamed freshman freedom syndrome. Poor decisions made because they could be. We both knew it was what it was, nothing more.
    “I could smell pot down the hall, and I figured you guys were hanging out in here. Share the good stuff.”
    I’d forgotten to put the towel by the door. After remedying my oversight, I pulled the bong back out of the closet.
    Maggie asked for snacks and I opened a drawer in the spare desk. I had cereal, Cracker Jacks, chips, peanut butter and pretzels—the perfect munchies emergency kit.
    Maggie shoved a handful of Captain Crunch into her mouth and winced. “Ouch!”
    “What’s wrong?” Selah asked from her spot splayed on the floor.
    “I think I cut the roof of my mouth.” Maggie finished chewing with exaggerated carefulness. “Got any milk?” She eyed my mini fridge.
    “I’m out.”
    Frowning, she set down the box. “Selah, share your caramel corn with me.” She crawled off the bed and collapsed with her head in Selah’s lap.
    “Here, but give it back to me.” Selah passed her the box.
    “What’s interesting about a box of Cracker Jacks?” Maggie asked with a full mouth.
    “In my aesthetics of advertising class we had a guest lecture this week. She talked about all the subliminal messages snuck into ads and illustrations.”
    “Like what?” Gil shifted to stretch out on the bed.
    “Mostly naked women to make things subconsciously more appealing to men.”
    “And are there naked men to make things more appealing for women?” Maggie asked, studying the box of caramel corn.
    “There’s a hidden man in the camel on Camel cigarettes. He has an erection,” Gil added to the discussion.
    Maggie threw back her head and laughed. “The things you know.”
    “Maybe I need to switch from Marlboro Lights to those,” Selah mused. “If women found pictures of penises as stimulating as men find boobs, such thinking might work. But would a penis make you buy something?”
    “Probably not. Wait, I see a penis!” Maggie pointed to the box. “See? Right there? With a pair of balls below it.”
    Selah peered at the box. “That’s totally a dick. Ben, can I borrow a pen?’
    Gil and I locked eyes. We’d smoked the same thing, but I wasn’t hallucinating imaginary peckers.
    He shrugged his shoulders and went back to reading the liner notes. “The Beastie Boys are geniuses.”
    I had to agree. We ignored the girls and their giggling on the floor while we had a very serious discussion over the sampling of the Jaws theme