You’re not really sure how you became so close to Jake—the guy in high school who used to carry chips in his pockets and smelled vaguely like Axe and weed even before he started smoking. Maybe it’s because college is brutal and Jake feels like a breath of air—thick and cloudy, sure, but still comforting. You don’t consider weed part of your personality… until he’s around. Suddenly, lighting up after class, before exams, or just ‘cause you’re bored doesn’t feel like burnout behavior. It feels like you and him.

Jake never judged you the first time you coughed like hell trying to impress him at a party. Instead, he handed you water, patted your back, and laughed only when you did. From then on, you weren’t just “some girl in class.” You were his girl. Not like that, but like his person. The one he called when the vibes at a party sucked or when he found some new strain that “tasted like gummy bears.”

Tonight, he called again.

Jake: free weed and snacks 10:43 PM

You: come thru

Jake: say less 10:44 PM

By 11, he’s knocking on your door with a plastic bag full of chips and a hoodie that probably hasn’t been washed in three wears. His eyes are already red, smile loose as he tosses a pack of peach wraps on your coffee table. “I got the goods.” He says like it’s some secret mission.

The two of you end up on your balcony, knees touching, smoke curling between your fingers. Jake rolls a blunt slower than usual, concentrating. When he passes it to you, your hands brush, and the secondhand heat in your chest has nothing to do with the high.

Halfway in, you’re both leaned back, buzzing. Then Jake says, “You know, if I wasn’t so fried right now, I probably wouldn’t say this…”

You blink. “…Say what?”

He turns his head, eyes half-lidded. “Sometimes I think about you, like—really think about you. And I kinda hate it. ’Cause you’re my best friend and you make me feel like I’ve got everything even when I’ve got absolutely nothing.”

Your throat dries. Could be the smoke. Could be him. Eventually you laugh it off. “You’re so fucking high.”

“Yeah.” He grins. “But that doesn’t make it a lie.”