" Vagina or Dick?"

That was today's topic of heated discussion amongst our friend group. You'd think we'd have better things to discuss, you know, stuff like Global warming and its causes or how we could stop it, or Increased inflation rate and how it's affected our economy,or high costs of living or how Joe Biden is slowly ruining America but after an hour of weed smoking, our brains fried, we chose to discuss the reproductive systems; because why not?

Which is the better one? Why is it better than the other one and all that nonsense.

The back building was like our little oasis, cloistering us from the good kids. We were the school's degenerate gang and mixing the good fruits with the rotten ones guaranteed a possible epidemic of decaying students. So we separated ourselves from the good harvest, sprawled out in the grass behind the back building, Tyson rolled up a joint and passed it around while Emerald chugged down the alcohol she snuck to school this morning.

After ten puffs of that magic smoke, I was floating in a cloud of ecstacy, my pores breathing with euphoria as a languorous feeling hijacked my senses.

" Dick obviously," Zac scoffed, prying the joint from Jackie's trembling fingers before drawing it to his chapped lips for a puff. I watch as he held the smoke into his lungs in a deep inhale, eyes pinched shut before puffing it out through his nostrils like a dragon breathing fire.

" That's the only correct answer, " He elaborated.

" Why is that?" Emerald asked, a frown swallowing her previous languid smirk.

" Why would I want to have a vagina? I mean, that thing bleeds every month.... totally not my scene!"

" Exactly!" I agreed. " It's all fun and games until blood clots start oozing out of it. At least my dick doesn't do that ."

" Right, 'cause having boners in the morning is so refining!" Em sarcastically remarked, rolling her eyes at me before pulling the flask of alcohol to her lips for a swig.

" Boners are pleasurable, unlike period pain, so once again, men are winners," Tyson preaches, causing the male species in our group to applaud his remarkable statement, much to the ladies' annoyance.

" You're right, men are wieners !" Jackie intoned with a laughter filled voice, bringing Emerald to a hearty laugh. Not that it was that funny, pardon once again for being a bit misogynistic but women aren't funny. Maybe it's the weed smoke getting to me. Well, Jackie has said some decent jokes over the past couple years but this was not it.

" Well technically, women are winners seeing as we house one of the most complex human organs in the entire body, plus we have a higher pain tolerance as opposed to you ballerinas," Jackie chimes in, throwing a smirk at Tyson's way. He scoffs, securing the blunt between his thin colorless lips.

" You're laughing right now but once those PMS symptoms start to sink up , you'll be begging for me to buy you some chocolates to soothe the pain," Tyson winked at her . She sneered back, the proceeded to hold her hand out for him to place the joint into it.

Tyson obliged.

" And some pain killers," Zac added. Then faced Emerald; " do you still chug down those cocktail of really strong painkillers to soothe your menstrual cramps?"

" Why do you want to know?" A retort from her , arms folded across her chest.

" Just... reasons,"

" Yes, I do," She replied, annoyance dancing in her voice. " Any more stupid questions from you?"

" Calm down, Em, it was just a harmless joke!"

" So women's issues are meant to be taken as 'harmless jokes' from insipid men like you?" Ah jeez. Once Emerald adopts that feminist tone of hers, there's no turning back. Reminded me of that one time Tyson said some 'insensitive chauvinistic' comment about women, that earned us almost three hours of heavy lecture on women's rights etcetera. I swear I wanted to shove scissors into my ears !

" God, sometimes I wish you guys could walk a mile in a woman's body for you to understand the challenges we face every fucking day," She was livid, that was obviously. Which is the complete opposite of what she usually is whenever she has a flask full of booze. Alcohol brings out a different version of you after taking a few bottles in ; those who get increasingly quieter with each glass consumed, those who get louder after emptied a glass or two, those who get excessively emotional and sob, confessing their love for you ( Nico does that) , and those who get angry.

Emerald was the type to get into really good jolly moods after a drink of alcohol but right now, with her face so red it would put a beetroot to shame , nostrils flared like a spanish bull inside an arena, she was the opposite of who she was after drinking. Maybe it had something to do with this debate. She's such an annoying feminist! I hate that version of her.

" Yeah, let's see how you guys will survive having a uterus, and a vagina," Jackie smirked, almost as though she was ready to cast a spell that would grant her that specific wish. Of replacing Tyson, Zac's, Nico's and Mine's make reproductive system with uteruses, fallopian tubes ,ovaries and all the organs a woman has down there.

" Would we get breasts too? I mean, to fully enhance our experience on being a female," I drawled lazily, my eyelids dropping heavily from being high.

" You think having breasts is fun?" Jackie raised a quizzical eyebrow at me. From where I had lain, she looked like she had glitter dancing on her skin. I silently chuckled at the ridiculous sight of my hallucination.

" Oh so now having boobs is bad too?!" Tyson yelled disapprovingly . " You guys just don't appreciate the amazing assets you have! "

" Breasts aren't all that, you guys are just obsessed with them , more than a lactating baby is," Intoned Jackie, still smirking at us but more at Tyson. Almost as though she was talking to him alone, singling the rest of us out. Their shared lingering stares being the epitome of all things awkward. The tension between them growing with each passing heartbeat, or maybe I'm just too fucking stoned that my mind is playing another hallucination trick on me.

" Tyson is a boob guy though so of course he's going to be obsessed with a woman's chest area," Emerald voice effectively managed to break their shared intense eye contact , both individuals gazing back at her, Tyson's bloodshot eyes rolling at her speculation, although given the simpering look twisted in his face, it's safe to say he agreed to the notion of him being a 'boob' guy.

" That's why he prefers chicken breasts instead of wings or legs," Jackie put in, sending him a secretive wink but no so secretive seeing as I caught on to the act. Yep, something was definitely going on between these two. Should I ask? Probably best if I didn't stick my nose into other people's business when clearly I have a lot on my plate. With the conversation floating above my head, a smokers cough drumming inside Nico's lungs, unvoiced laughter injected here and there as Tyson and Jackie bickered with each other at the conversation at hand, I remained mute, consumed by my thoughts.

I avoided his eyes even as he passed the joint to me and our fingers brushed in the process like two leaves in a branch against the gentle whistle of a zephyr breeze , enhancing the discomfort that strangled me. All because of the stupid dream I had in which his mom starred heavily in it. Or more accurately, starring her boobs. And it didn't help that Jackie was talking about Tyson's obsession with that particular female anatomy , assaulting me with unpremeditated images of my naughty dream. Everything about it felt...wrong? Yet I claimed to be 'in love' with Amanda. Then why did that dream scare me? Why does that scare me? It felt too real, her voice, her face, the way she looked at me, the vivid details of her breasts as she bent down , over my desk those round melons compressed behind her white bra cups , so full and heavy, threatening to spill over in a naughty wardrobe malfunction-

" Ok!" I suddenly pushed myself off the carpet of grass , standing almost immediate, grabbing everyone's attention as they addressed me with curious clash confused eyes. " I....um, I have to go. Don't want to be late for afternoon classes."

" But we still have..." Nico held his wrist to his face , his Apple watch ultra coming to view. " thirty minutes before the bell rings."

" Yeah, I know, it's just that...." I tried to rake my brain for a plausible reason, darting jittery glances around." Mrs. Dawson doesn't like me showing up late to her classes."

" Since when do you call her 'Mrs. Dawson'?" Emerald doesn't hesitate to voice the absurdity of me addressing Amanda by that obedient title, eyebrows tweaked with shock.

" I know, it's ...crazy," I let out an inadvertent chuckle, embarrassed coupled up with a pang of unease. " So...anyways...I'm gonna split."

The looks on their faces, shifting from raised eyebrows, to ones of contorted befuddlement was a clear testimony of how peculiar I was acting. The exchange of glances as I dusted the stray grasses off my jeans and murmured whispered enhanced the oddity of it all. Still, during my frantic departure from our usual hang zone, I avoided his eyes. I avoided him so much today it started to become painfully obvious to me and him. I rode the bus to school as opposed to seating with him in his dim gray Toyota Camry that he was gifted by his father before divorce took him away. Everything was so....uncomfortable!

I was still high when I slithered inside the boy's bathroom with bloodshot eyes and the smell of weed clinging onto my clothes like a cheap perfume. Turning the faucet on, water pooling inside the porcelain sink bowel as the sound of the white noise reverberated through the deserted bathroom stalls. With dazed eyes, I gazed at the crystal flow of water collecting at the sink before disappearing into the drain. When you're high, even the sight of pouring water becomes the most fascinating thing on the planet. Probably because it sorta looked like glitter, effects of hallucination or something .

After one aggressive head shake, I cupped my hands under the flowing liquid , watching it pool inside before overflowing , bent over and splashed it against my face in hopes that it would bring down the high. It felt like ice cubs slapping my face as a sharp exhale pushed past my parted lips, affirming its overly exaggerated cold temperature. Another splash of water on my face and I was good to go. Or at least I thought. Meeting with my stare at the greasy bathroom mirror, water sliding down my face like a profuse bleed , I lock gazes with my bloodshot eyes, the green iris resembling muddy moss.

There was no hiding the fact that I was heavily stoned and I was going to have to attend Amanda's class looking like this. The need to hide my eyes behind a veil of sunglasses felt like the perfect idea. I could borrow those, hoping that they would confide my secret from the prying eyes of Amanda.

With about twelve minutes to spare, I braced the hallway, walking slightly out of balance, bumping shoulders with anyone and everyone, neck craned in an attempt to spot anyone who would be having a pair of sunglasses to help me with them . Truth be told, I didn't really know anyone that would miraculously have a pair of sunglasses....

Time was ticking. Still no luck. The only hope I had was slowly slipping out of my fingers, the solution null and void. I would soon be forced to attend the last class with a stoned face, eyes so red they resembled blood. Amanda would definitely rat me out to my father. I guess that's my reward for breaking school rules, especially one that dictated the no drugs allowed rule.

Five minutes.

Having thrown in the towel, I decided to hide my face by pulling the hood of my jacket over my head far enough to shield a fraction of my face from any clear view. This was last resort, hoping it would do the trick. Hoping Amanda won't order me to pull it off. Fingers crossed. I trudged along the hallway with my head held down, several students scurrying to various directions, feet shuffling against the linoleum floors, the whamming of slammed locked , boisterous chattering, the soundtrack of a busy highschool hallway.

My mouth felt like cotton, my tongue rolling around its orifice, bumping against my teeth and the roof of it, gliding callously against the velvet surface of my inner cheeks in need of water to wash down this unnatural feel. It was during my languid and bizarre movement along the corridors, my mind muddled with all sorts of thoughts shifting from my need to quench my thirst to wondering how Amanda would react if she found out I was about to attend her class seemingly high when I accidentally and roughly bumped into someone, spilling water all over them in the process.

"OhmygodImsosorry!" Came out a jumbled apology, gazing at the white shirt of the victim, drenched in water, the liquid successfully drawing the fabric into a see-through veil that screamed with indecency subjecting my eyes to the unmistakable translucent view of a black bra hidden behind the wet fabric.

That prompted me to look up to confirm the owner of this wet shirt.

Oh crap!

Her mouth hanging agape, cobalt eyes darkened with aeration, Amanda Dawson glared back at me.