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Coming Down
Topic Started: Feb 12 2013, 12:51 PM (783 Views)
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((Joe Carrasco continued from Mary Jane's Sanctum.))

They were out of prom. They were out. None of the chaperones had caught onto the fact that Dave was high and panicky as that time Joe had wandered off to the mall while stoned, and subsequently realised he was at the mall and that the general public could see him being a stoned jerk. Though it had likely been less bad for Joe than it was for Dave, because this was both his first time and he'd taken the brownie unawares.

Damn it, Travis.

Still, it could have been worse. And the fact that they were now outside might let Dave breathe a bit better.

Joe fidgeted a bit, looking back at Dave and the other girl--Sophie, he was sure he'd heard Dave call her that--briefly, before looking towards the parking lot.

"Uhmmm... need to... need to go to his... grandparent's house. Don't know where that is," he said quietly. "And... I don't know how to... Um. Can't drive." Joe glanced in the general direction of where he'd left his bike. He couldn't fit three people onto a bike. He'd just leave the bike here and pick it up tomorrow. "Can... can pay for cab. If... if needed."

He would probably have enough saved up, if it wasn't too far. He didn't tend to use his allowance much, due to never going anywhere that required money. And it would be stupid to ask Dave and Sophie to do so, since this mess was his fault to begin with. He should have thought to warn Dave before he ate that stupid brownie.

"You... you doing alright?" he mumbled at Dave. "Breathing?"
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((Sophie McDowell continued from Mary Jane's Sanctum))

Sophie stepped into the parking lot with Dave and Joe. Joe didn't know where Dave's grandparents lived and offered to take pay for a cab.

"That won't be necessary," Sophie said, "I drove here with Dave, so we can just take my car."

Sophie's parents owned two cars at their home. Normally, her dad would drive her mom to work and pick her up, leaving Sophie, the oldest child living in the house and the only one who could drive, with a car to get herself to school. It could be a hassle sometimes with Sophie having to drive around Seattle for errands and picking up her sisters, but tonight, Sophie was guaranteed a car with no problems.

"Yeah, I don't know where his grandparents live either, but perhaps we can get him somewhere quiet. Maybe we could get him some tea or something to calm him down."

Sophie pulled the keys out of her clutch.

"So yeah, I'm parked over there," she said, pointing to an area of the parking lot, "Joe, you can sit in the back with him."

Sophie patted Dave's back.

"It's gonna be okay, Dave. You're gonna be fine."
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((Dave Russell continued from Mary Jane’s Sanctum))

Dave felt sick. Of course, he’d been feeling sick before, he’d just ate a brownie’s worth of weed without so much as a hint of what was coming, but when that happened he’d just been scared shitless by his imminent death. Now, out in the mild night air, he just felt like he was going to throw up all over the place.

Joe and Sophie were still around him. He could hear them talking at him and see them moving around, as well as feel Sophie’s hand on his back, but they weren’t really there anymore. Now it was just him and his decaying mind, staring ahead into the parking lot that looked like it could stretch on forever.

Everything just felt numb.

Wherever Travis had gone, he didn’t have a clue. It occurred to Dave that Travis was the reason he’d wound up like he had in the first place, but he had ran off a while ago, not a sign of him left. It didn’t matter to him, he didn’t know Travis, but at the same time, this was all his fault. Why wasn’t he there to help him, like Joe and Sophie were? Joe was just as much of a stranger too.

There was that feeling again, his stomach still wanting to throw up all over the concrete.

There came a vibration from his pocket, followed by the sound of a cheap ringtone calling out through the night. Instinctively he answered, the voice of his grandfather on the other side.

“Granddad? I don’t feel well.” He said, his weak voice demonstrating the truth in what he said. Barely a few words were exchanged between the two, and before Dave could stop him, his grandfather was on his way.
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Joe shook his head when Sophie brought up tea. "No, um... warm stuff isn't... not good for panic attacks. Cool things. Water. Washcloth. Um, things like that." He wondered if he'd remembered to put his water bottle in the little holster on his bike. He usually brought it along, especially if he was going to Travis' house to smoke pot with him. He always found that splashing water on his face helped a little if he was trying to get out of a high before going home.

He was still pondering whether throwing water on Dave would be rude, even if he asked first, when Dave's phone rang and a lift from the grandparents was organized. Joe scratched the back of his head before pointing at the ground.

"Do we wait here? I, uh... I won't leave. Uh... unless you wuh... want me to?"

Joe nervously played with his fingers. His attempts to make eye contact with Dave resulted in him staring a fair distance above Dave's shoulder.
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Sophie listened as Joe explained that Dave needed something cool to calm him down in a moment like this. She then noticed Dave picking up his phone and talking. It sounded like his grandfather was coming to pick him up, so they wouldn't have to drive Dave instead.

Joe asked if they should wait there.

"Uh, yeah, I say we just stay put," Sophie said, "and it might be easier for two people to look over him."

Sophie began to look around the area. She hoped Dave's grandfather would find them easily.
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Dave found himself leaning on Sophie’s car, his head still swimming as she and Joe had another little chat about him. He still couldn’t bring himself to listen to anything they were saying: the only thing he could focus on was making the world stop spinning.

He’d been sweating bullets this whole time, but now, out in the cool night air, he was overcome with chills. His dinner jacket was draped over his shoulders, having been unable to even concentrate hard enough to thread his arms through the sleeves, but it did little to soothe him as his body wracked with shivers, his skin still as pale as a spectre.

As bad as the pot sitting in his stomach was making him feel, he felt even worse the fact that he'd dragged his granddad out the house for his sake. Even if his grandparents did live much closer than his house was, he still hadn’t wanted to wake them up in the middle of the night when he got back, that was why he was carpooling with Sophie. Now, he was dragging his poor granddad out in the middle of the night, just to pick him up because he was too stupid to not eat drug addled brownies. Taking food from strangers in a bathroom, wasn’t that like stranger danger 101? Did that still count if the stranger was one of your classmates?

Another wave of nausea hit him. His eyes felt like they wanted to climb into the back of his head, as his stomach began to sink. Why had he thought about food?

“Soph, I-“ he started, but didn’t manage to get past the second word. Before he even had time to turn away, his stomach decided to empty itself right there and then, splattering all over the hood of Sophie’s car.
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Joe didn't really know how to react to Dave puking all over Sophie's car. Except for a general emotion of 'eww.'

"Aaaaahhhuum," he squeaked incoherently. He cleared his throat and said, "Um. Uhhh... on the... the bright side... maybe... maybe he vuh... vomited out the brownies. I, uh... paper towels. Bag. Water."

Joe looked beyond the parking lot. There were a few shops open across the street. One of them had to have paper towels and water.

"Um. Things! I'll... uh, hang on. Keep him counting and breathing!" He set off at a run for the nearby shops, to find something for Dave to drink, something for him to throw up in, and something to get all the vomit off Sophie's car.
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Sophie continued to look around the parking lot. She didn't know what kind of car Dave's grandpa drove, so she wasn't sure of what to look for. As she continued to look around, she heard Dave begin to talk to her. She turned to face him, but before he could say anything else, he emptied the contents of his stomach on the hood of her car.

Sophie's eyes widened as her mouth hung open. She let out a few small cries and stepped back a bit so she didn't get any vomit on her feet.

Oh my god, he's really sick.

Joe began to mutter about Dave puking up some brownies before running off to get something to clean the car off.

"Uh, sure, I'll stay with Dave," she said as Joe ran off.

Sophie turned back to the pool of vomit on the hood of her car. She often believed that she had a strong stomach, but the smell of the vomit was beginning to feel really pungent. She covered her mouth just in case she needed to puke as well.

Well, it's not corrosive acid, so it's not going to damage the car in any dangerous way. Mom and Dad won't blame me for that. Dave just ate some bad brownies. Wait, did he have the brownies from the buffet table, cause I ate those too. Ugh, I better be careful. I hope Dave didn't get food poisoning or something.

Sophie opened her clutch bag and pulled out a pack of tissues. She took one out and held it out to Dave.

"Here, you might need this," she said. "Don't feel bad about the car either, I'm not mad at you."
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His legs were shaking. Not just his legs, everything, but his legs were what was keeping him standing over the pile of his own puke that was running down Sophie’s car, so their shaking was his biggest concern. It didn’t occur to him to wipe off the speck that was running down his chin, never mind the stain it would leave on his dad’s old tux, either.

It felt like more wanted to come out, but none did. Just as well, as Sophie got close enough to hand him a tissue: puking over a car was one thing, puking over a friend was a lot more problematic. He had trouble understanding what the tissue was for for a brief, stupid instant, but eventually the gears in his head churned out an understanding, as he took it to clean his mouth up. He could still taste his puke, of course, but at least it was gone from his face.

“Soph, I’m really sorry.” He said, finishing what he’d tried to say earlier. He was still having trouble standing straight, his legs threatening to buckle at any moment from the wave of nausea that still overtook him, but at least he’d managed to get out an apology.

It didn’t make him feel any better though. He’d completely ruined her prom night, left her standing with those other two, whoever they were, whilst he’d gone off and eaten brownies and freaked out and oh god he wanted to throw up again after all.

He brought the napkin up to his mouth, praying that he not have to throw up again with her standing right there and ruin her dress. He was already a terrible date, he didn’t need to be a terrible date who’d ruined her dress.

But, prayers unanswered, he still had to throw up.

At least he was able to turn away in time to splatter her car again, rather than empty his guts over her.
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From the convenience store nearby, Joe quickly grabbed some paper towels, some plastic bags and a bottle of drinking water. After a few moments of consideration, he grabbed a little packet of peppermint candy as well. He thought he'd read something about mint helping nausea. Or was it ginger? And was it specific kinds of nausea or a general all-purpose thing? Joe couldn't remember, but the flavour would also give Dave something less negative to focus on. It couldn't hurt.

Joe paid and left the store, hurrying back to where the other two were. There was a larger amount of vomit there now. He'd been too late with the plastic bags, but he handed one to Dave anyway. Just in case. The water and the peppermints, he handed to Sophie.

"Water. Peppermints. For Dave." Joe was about to further explain that peppermints might be an anti-nausea thing, but shook his head. "Uh. If... if he wants... yeah. You can... take some, too, doesn't matter..." Joe shifted his feet for a moment before turning to the car. He wrinkled his nose at the vomit before rolling his tuxedo sleeves up. Doctors got vomited on all the time, anyway. Cleaning vomit wasn't that bad, and it was something he'd probably have to get used to.

He started scraping the vomit away with the paper towels. Not fair to have to drive home covered in that kind of muck.
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Dave apologized again about throwing up. Before Sophie could respond, Dave turned back and vomited on the hood of her car again. Sophie let out a small cry as she watched Dave puke.

Oh man, twice in the span of a few minutes? This is worse than I thought.

Fortunately, Joe returned with supplies. He gave Sophie a bottle of waster and some peppermints before he began to clean her car.

"Thank you, Joe," she said.

She opened the water bottle and handed it to Dave.

"Here, you better drink this," she told him, "if at least to clean out your mouth."

Sophie looked back at the hood of her car. She also opened the bag of peppermints and took one out. She didn't know why Dave brought them, but she really felt like having one at the moment.

I'm probably going to have to take this to a car wash tomorrow. Maybe we should get it looked at in case the vomit causes issues with the engine. Dad's pretty good with cars, he might know what to do.

She unwrapped the peppermint and popped it in her mouth. At least the smell of peppermint was better than the smell the contents of Dave's stomach radiated.
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He was ready to faint at that point. He’d taken the bottle of water from Sophie, barely even registering that Joe had come back, but he’d yet to drink anything from it. It felt like opening his mouth again could only have one outcome, one that would only add to the pile of puke fermenting on Sophie's car.

At long last, with a beep of the horn, a familiar silver Ford drove into the car park. It had only taken a few minutes to drive over, the quiet traffic of late night Seattle serving for a smooth drive, but for Dave it felt like it had been forever since his granddad had rung.

Roy Russell was out in seconds, hurrying over to his sickly grandson’s side. He was younger than most other grandparents, a result of his son’s early procreation, but he still had wisdom in his wrinkles, thin grey hair, and all the comforting sights of the elder generation.

“I really want to go home, Granddad.” Dave whimpered, Roy’s hands firmly holding him by the shoulders. With a nod of understanding, he took Dave under his arm and led him back to the car.

“Thanks for taking care of him.” He offered to Sophie and Joe, before turning his attention back to his grandson in the back of the car. As Dave slumped over to rest his head on the seat, the car pulled out of the parking lot and headed back home.

Dave spent the next few days recovering from the effects of unintentional cannabis use and an unforeseen flu that was no doubt exacerbated by the former. Dave’s parents would insist they could look after him at their house, but their parents pulled rank and remained adamant that he stay with them, insisting back they had more time to spare. The argument meant little to Dave at the time, but he could later come to regret causing more trouble, yet again.

((Dave Russell's prom night concluded))
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Joe froze up when an oldish man who he assumed was Dave's grandfather approached. Joe was terrified that it would lead to questions. 'How'd he get sick? Why did you let him have pot brownies, you hooligan?' And so on. But nothing like that happened, and soon Dave was being carted away. Joe mumbled something indistinguishable that was his attempt at saying, 'no problem.'

He finished mopping up the vomit splattering Sophie's car, trying his best not to get any on his tux so that he didn't have to explain to his parents why he was covered in puke. He dumped the used towels in one of the plastic bags he'd bought before turning to Sophie. He immediately looked down again. Now that the emergency was over, he was back to not knowing what on earth to say.

At this stage, he just wanted to go home. If he stuck around, he'd probably end up hovering around Travis making sure he didn't do anything else stupid, while trying to angrily ignore him at the same time. No, Joe was going to go home, rinse off his hands and pretend that prom had been the special, sparkly once-in-a-lifetime happy occasion that the movies (with the exception of films like Carrie, of course) had always made it out to be.

"Uh. Bye," Joe mumbled to Sophie's feet before fleeing to his bike, clambering on and starting to pedal home.

((Joe Carrasco continued in The Friendliest Kidnapping Ever.))
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Sophie heard the sound of a horn honking and saw a car pull up. She sighed in relief, glad that Dave's grandpa had arrived. Dave was put into the car, and soon they were driving away. Sophie stood in place, holding the peppermints and waving as they drove off.

Well, I hope he feels better. I should visit him tomorrow. Maybe I'll bring some flowers and some soup.

Joe finished cleaning the hood of her car and quickly left. Sophie hardly had time to thank him before he was gone. She was left alone, standing near her car and waiting for something to happen. She closed her eyes and sighed.

"He's in good hands now. That's fine."

Sophie pulled her car keys out of her clutch and unlocked her car, taking her place in the driver's seat. Before she started the car, she pulled her cell phone and quickly dialed home.

"Hey Mom," she said. "I'm coming home...... No, no, Prom was fine. Dave just got sick and his grandpa picked him up....... I don't know, I think it was food poisoning. I don't really feel like staying here now. I'll be home soon......... Okay..... I love you too."

Sophie hung up and put her phone back in her clutch. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the back of her seat.

You know what, Mom will understand if I stop to get a milkshake on my way home. I'm sure there's a drive-thru still open.

Sophie sat up and turned her car on. She was ready for the night to end.

((Sophie McDowell continued elsewhere))
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