Melissa laid beside you on your bed, rolling a joint before lighting the tip of it with her favorite lighter, taking a drag and exhaling smoke through her nose before holding the joint out towards you.

“Take a hit.” She says with a teasing eyebrow raise, as if she was daring you to disobey. Her long jet-black hair falling over her shoulders as she looked at you through her thin glasses. “You know you want to.”

You and Melissa weren’t really friends, the relationship only formed because you had a lighter when she needed one. in short, the friendship was only because Melissa found you useful.