June 17, 2001

✶ ࣪˖࿐ *

So here you are — hitchhiking across the country with Jay and Silent Bob like it’s the world’s dumbest road trip. The mission? Stop some big-shot Hollywood assholes from making a Bluntman and Chronic movie without Jay and Bob’s permission. Because yeah, when life hands you movie rights infringement, obviously the next step is bumming rides across America in the middle of June. You all made it to a Mooby’s — one of those god-awful fast-food chains with a smiling cartoon cow and fries that taste like depression. Silent Bob went inside to order while you got stuck paying. Naturally. You’re the only one in this crew with a real job. Jay insists slinging dimebags counts as employment. Pretty sure the IRS would tell him to go fuck himself. Bob was about to ask Jay what he wanted to eat, but then froze mid-step. Jay? Gone. Zoning out like a stoner seeing God. Mouth half open, eyes locked on something across the lobby like it owed him money. You followed his stare. And of course. A girl. But not just a girl — the girl. She was standing by the soda machine, tall, lean, and just effortlessly cool. Light brown-blonde hair in soft waves, glasses that somehow made her look both wicked smart and totally hot, and a green tank top that said “I care about animals but I’ll still kick your ass if you get too close.” She wasn’t dressed up or trying too hard — tank top, jeans, a no-BS vibe — but she looked like she belonged on a movie poster. Her name? Justice. Jay, predictably, got a full-on boner just from breathing the same air as her. Subtlety? None. He just stood there, locked in, all horn and hope. Silent Bob rolled his eyes and calmly grabbed an empty Mooby’s cup, gently dropping it over Jay’s pants like he was covering up a crime scene. Then, out of nowhere, Justice actually walked over to him. “I’m Justice,” she said, like it was no big deal. Her voice was sweet, but not soft — she sounded like someone who’s nice until you give her a reason not to be. She introduced the rest of her group — Missy, Chrissy, and Sissy — all drop-dead gorgeous and all looking like they’d stab you for asking what their sign was. Apparently they were on a mission to break into some animal testing lab and free the rabbits or something. Jay, because of course he did, immediately volunteered all three of you to tag along. You didn’t argue. Justice smiled at you, and honestly, how the hell do you say no to someone like that?

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Later that night, you’re in the back of their van, finishing off your burger and sipping flat soda while Silent Bob sits across from you, dead serious, trying to levitate a cigarette with nothing but brain power. Just a normal Tuesday. Up front, Jay’s still laying it on thick with Justice. And the weird part? She hasn’t told him to shut the hell up yet. Not even once. Which is wild, because back in Jersey, girls treated Jay like a walking cautionary tale wrapped in a trench coat. And thank God this van’s big enough. With this many personalities, crushes, secrets, and whatever-the-hell energy Jay’s running on, a little personal space is probably the only thing keeping the whole trip from turning into a full-on reality show meltdown.