Early May 2020

I drove down the windy, dark driveway. I accepted the invitation to go to a get-together with Matt this evening. He'd invited me earlier, and I thought I'd as well.

Once parked, we both stepped out of the vehicle and headed toward the front porch. The closer we get to the door, the fancier the scenery around us becomes. A stoned walkway guides us to the steps.

"Dang. Fancier than I expected." Max says before hitting the golden-colored doorbell. "Hey, by the way…" he starts, "is it okay if I just hitch a ride back with you, and we can head out together whenever you want? I was only thinking of staying for a short bit anyway." He rubs behind his neck nervously.

The door opens before I can answer. Standing there is a tall, muscular man with hair slightly longer than a buzzcut and two small tattoos on the left of his face with a giant snake trailing down his neck.

"Well, hey there, buddy!" The man says with a smile while opening his arms and having a quick hug with Max.

(Some men and their short-term shows of affection towards one another)

"And this is?" The man questions while eyeing my way.

"Oh, this is Cher," Max says, introducing myself to the snake-necked man.

"Well, very nice to meet you, Cher," the man says, holding a hand to shake. "I'm Martin," I respond to his gesture and say a quick, nice to meet you too, back his way. He guides us into the house, and more voices start to be heard. Not enough to be a party, but still at least more than five other people. Once we're in the kitchen, more people start to appear. A dyed blonde-haired woman with a lovely curvy figure is standing next to the bar while three other younger guys are on a couch in front of a TV in the next room.

"This is my beautiful fiancee, Britt," he says, leaning down to kiss her, "and those three in there are my little brothers, Nick, Jack, and Alex." Max and I acknowledge the three in the living room, nod, and wave as I sign some peace.

(Try to keep the momentary peace, at least.)

The atmosphere remained more welcoming than expected, and I started to internally scold myself for judging in the first place just due to hearing about the man recently being released from prison. Martin even offered me a beer, which I accepted, and said he'd get the shroom for us in a bit. Max and his had quite a bit to catch up on, so I mostly stayed to the side and observed the area around me more. Pictures covered the walls and were magnetized to the fridge. Almost all of them seemed to resemble a family. Martin, the three men sitting on the couch right now, and one tall blonde woman. They all had a smile on their faces in every single one of the pictures. That is besides the woman. The younger the males were, the bigger the smile was. As they aged, the joy within her face and eyes faded. The bags under her eyes increased as if the woman started to become sleepless, though her smile always remained throughout her life.

"That's my mother." I heard from Martin, who was now standing beside me, admiring the pictures himself, as I observed them. "She cared for us. My brothers and I were always her main concern. It didn't take her long to forgive me once I was sent to prison, too. Just sucks she had to die before I was out." He said sadly but somehow still with a small smile remaining on his face. "It was a heart attack. She almost made it to sixty."

"Luckily, she got out of this shit show of a world before this damn virus could get to her," Max says, attempting to bring some upside to the family's loss.

(Holy ass hats, smh)

Max started to slump down, regretting what he'd just said, but was quickly re-uplifted as Martin laughed in response to his comment.

"Hell, right to that," Martin said, as he continued laughing. "Man, she wouldn't have fallen for it."

(Here we go)

The subject of the pandemic being brought up makes my panicky brain instantly want to run from its deadly energy and smoke myself into my self-created physical destruction to deal with my problems.

"Is there a place I could go to smoke?" I asked Gretta.

"Out front on the porch is the best spot," she replies, grabbing her pack. "Might as well join you," she giggles. "Once one of us goes out for one, everyone goes out for one of their own, too."

And they did. Once we were both out there lighting up, Max and Martin were suddenly by our sides with their burning, just as she had said. We both giggle and roll our eyes. She moves over to a bench with Martin. They both cuddle together to keep cozy in the spring night air. The two showed such loving affection towards one another physically that they didn't even need to say anything romantic to each other in front of us to tell us their love for one another existed.

I look over in Max's direction and catch him already staring my way. I smile and then quickly move my eyes to the ground. The evidence of Max's feelings towards me has been openly showing far more recently. He showed evidence before with the compliments, and I kept catching him staring at me at times. Once, I mentioned the age difference between us two and that I was uninterested. He had agreed with me then, so I had faith in us remaining friends.

I feel Max's energy ending closer, so I pretend not to notice and instead move over to the steps and sit on them. Luckily, Max remained where he was standing before and instead just smoked his feelings a bit more intently. I take in my long stressful drag and hold that shit in as long as I can.

"Man," Martin says, followed by a pile of gray smoke. "I missed this shit in prison. People would still have them, but you had to somehow get money to them or be the same race as them." Max laughed. "So they haven't changed much, have they?"

"Buddy, you were barely even in the shits when you went. Jail is not the same thing as a prison." Martin shook his head. "They sent me to one of the bitchiest ones out of their whole fucked up prison system too."

"Which one?" I questioned hesitantly. "All the way down in Texas." He answers, looking my way. "Damns.." I reply, not knowing how else to respond to such a comment. "It was the cause of gang stuff. I got involved with it at a young age and could not get myself out of it until it ended up getting me sent to prison." He goes quiet for a second, his face finally showing the existence of his internal anger and irritation. "Fuck those guys!" Martin let out loudly. Gretta grabbed his hand while slowly stroking his arm as if attempting to ease his anger.

"They all threw me under the bus," he continues, a bit calmer now. "Every single fucking one of them. Half of their asses didn't even get locked up. The thing that sucked the most was right once getting involved in one gang ends with you in prison, and you're no longer with them, you end up just getting stuck, having to join a new one to let yourself survive and stay alive in that hell hole of a system. Luckily, my Irish blood got me a pretty decent crew. It's all divided by culture and races in there. You stick with the pack you're born into. I've never agreed with that type of shit more since being in there."

"Hell yeah to that brother!" Max says, raising his cigarette like a drink when someone gives a toast at an event.

A toast to what? Acknowledging that they're both racists?

"Man, but those boys in blue, too, though. It's fifty-fifty with them. If you listen to them, you're fine, but if you mess around, yourself up, or step on their toes, then you're fucking toast. I swear more fuckers only work there for their egos. That's why almost all of us leaving there want to try criminal justice once we're out. It feels like a way of protection from getting ourselves stuck in that celled-up system again." Martin says, putting the last bit of his cigarette on the ground. "What would you have to get yourself locked up for anyways?" Martin asks Max. His tone of voice seemed irritated, as if he were judging Max. His tone and way of talking had changed a lot since the subject of the prison was brought up.

(I couldn't keep my mouth shut, could I?)

"Nothing terrible, I mean." Max seemed hesitant to answer, keeping his hands in his pockets and his face to the ground. "I just haven't been thinking right, I guess. So, not the smartest choices in dealing with my problems have been made."

"How so?" Martin asked in a kinder tone this time, as he leaned forward, seeming to be entirely concerned with what Max was saying.

"I've just been dealing with losing a lot of people lately, so I started using again. Just meth this time, instead." Martin gave him a sympathetic look before getting up and heading towards Max. They talked quietly enough to have it together, so I couldn't make out what they were saying.

I'd already concluded that Max is having another relapse with meth. It was the reason behind his moon howling sessions in the kitchen during his shifts. Everybody has been saying that that was what they thought, too. They don't have any proof.

"As much as I hate the guy," Britt says, taking her turn attempting to change the subject, "I'm glad I voted for Trump. All people of blue are on the same side, democrats and police. The guy may be stupid, annoying, and sometimes crazy, but at least I don't have to worry about him stealing my guns or locking us up inside during this pandemic."

(How the fuck did the thought of the Trumpster Dumpster even pop into your head, girl?)

"If they come to take my guns, they better be ready for a shoot-off," Martin says, chuckling again. He eyes me suspiciously after, noticing how I'd become silent throughout the rest of the conversation. "What about you?" He questions me. "Are you part of the blue crew?"

"No," I answered. "I'm Team Green. I'm more independent. There doesn't seem to be a side I can fully agree with, so I'm sticking in the middle."

The guy keeps his eyes squinting a bit, still eyeing me cautiously yet nodding in approval.

(Feels like the right time to leave, huh?)

I look down at my phone and see how we hit 1 a.m. a few minutes ago. I take the opportunity of the timing as an excuse to pick up a family member from their a.m. shift ending soon. Everybody responded nicer than I'd expected, and I started heading straight to my car after getting out some very quick goodbyes.

(I fucking need to stop accepting invitations to places just because I get offered psychedelics.)

"Shit! Max!" I suddenly stopped, remembering that I was his ride for the night. I turn around, ready to run after the guy and ask if he still needs a ride, but instead, I end up running face-to-face into him.

"Holy fucking dick shits!" I scream while lightly jumping in the air quickly out of fright.

"Sorry about that," Max says, giggling, while his face becomes as red as my own. "I was just checking if I could still catch that ride with you?" He asks rather quietly.

"Of course, Max," I responded. "I'm sorry. That's actually why I was headed back." Max responds with a thank you, and we both get in my Subaru and start heading back.

The drive is quiet, minus the consistent thoughts rushing through my head. The only upside to my racing mind was the ultimate confirmation that those were not people I would be hanging with again. I respect people who have been in prison, but I don't respect people who think like them. I don't mean, as in past prisoners. I mean, people who love racial division in America but won't acknowledge the amount of privilege they're handed within it.

"It's right up here," Max says, breaking me from my thoughts and pointing at the yellow house at the top of the hill. "Thank you for real, Cher," Max says as I pull into the driveway. "I'm sorry if my friends took it too far tonight in any way at all. Like, I know you're a bit more… liberal… I guess… and I didn't want you to be offended."

"Max…" I start, "It wasn't me he was directing the offensive comments too. My only problem was that I'm afraid I have to disagree with them."

"True." Max nods while smiling. "Man… Cher, you're cool. It's just…" he stammers. "I've just really liked you for a while, and I know we met when you were nineteen, but you're twenty now, and yeah, I'm in my thirties, but… you never know."

I stay silent for a second. "I still just want to stay friends, Max-" I'm cut off by his arms suddenly wrapped around me. My body freezes underneath his hug.

"I get it. All good. Completely understand." He says quickly, from hugging me to going out the door as soon as possible. "Thank you again for the ride!" He shouts without turning around. "I'm fucking sorry too."