. . 634 . . . I could probably get laid tonight if I called my ex, the art student with daddy issues. . . . 636 . . . I stopped and faced her door. Wa... she even home? Would she even want to see me. That made me feel better. I had probably pissed her off. With that thought, I turned and started back. The door opened. “Hey, Jack,” a familiar voice said. “Where ya going, Jack?” Slowly, I turned back to her. She leaned casually against the door frame. Her long, black hair fell loosely over her. I got a lot of attention from the college boys and decided I would pick the party with the best looking crowd. A few minutes and I had a beer in hand and was heading into a house to check it out. Half an hour later I had two shots in me and was being led upstairs by two guys. The room we went into reeked. It smelled like pot and sweat and spilled beer. People were on couches on sides of the room just staring and nodding to the music. The table in the middle had a bowl of joints and a small. More

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