Page 22 of Never Stop

“Ahh,” she groaned. “Don’t mention food.”

“You’re worse than me?” I questioned over the rim of my mug.

“You’re not hungover?”

I swallowed the rich, creamy goodness of coffee and vanilla creamer. “I’m hungover for sure. But I know we need grease to soak up the alcohol—even though that may be a myth. Who cares, it’s bacon. People eat bacon any time of day. That’s how good it is.”

She eyed me as I spoke and I wondered if I were making any sense. I knew I was stalling about what really needed to be discussed.

“I need aspirin before I try to make sense of what you just said.” She groaned.

I laughed and walked to her en-suite bathroom and grabbed the bottle of pills I’d found earlier. “I made total sense.”

“Maybe, but my head is pounding too hard to comprehend the words coming out of your mouth.”

I laughed, my own headache long gone. “I’ve never seen you hungover before.”

“Yeah, college…”

I took a sip of my coffee. “I can only imagine what you did on the weekends.”

She gave a hard laugh and almost spilled her coffee in the process.

“What’s funny?”

“Sis, it wasn’t only on the weekends.”

I scrunched my eyebrows and huffed slightly. “How did you pass your classes?”

“Weed,” she stated bluntly.

My eyes became huge at what she’d said. “Weed?”

She laughed again. “I went to Berkeley.”

I blinked at her, now trying to understand the words coming from her mouth because I didn’t understand how Berkeley and marijuana went together.

“Oh come on, you know it’s known as being a hippie-stoner school.”

I took a deep breath trying to calm my anger. She was an adult, but this was my baby sister who I raised, and I didn’t raise her to be a stoner. Hearing how she got drunk and high while she was away at college made me want to spank her ass.

“Say something.” She took a sip from her mug.

I swallowed hard. “First, I had no idea it had that reputation. Second, how the hell did that help you pass classes? I thought it made people hungry. And third, what the fuck, Bailee Rose?”

“Okay, you need to calm down.” She smirked. “Weed isn’t bad for you. Hell, it helps people with cancer. And I didn’t smoke all the time,Mom. Only at parties or when I needed to relax and do homework or something. It actually helped me focus because it calmed me.”

It felt as though my heart stopped at the mention of the C word. Before I could respond, the timer I’d set on the oven went off telling me it was time to check to see if the bacon was done. I stood, taking my empty coffee cup with me.

“You’re not going to say anything?” she yelled after me.

“Just…” There were no words. Drugs were something I never wanted to do or take—until now. Now I was popping pain pills like Tic Tacs. But weed? At least I had a prescription for mine.

I turned off the beeping timer and opened the oven. The bacon was done, so I took it out and placed the tray on top of the stove. Bailee was standing at the breakfast bar watching me.

“You’re mad?” she asked as I grabbed a plate.

“Do you have a prescription for it?” Like that mattered. People got drugs all the time and didn’t need a prescription. But I never expected my baby sister to be one of them.