Trauma

Coach Matson cleared his throat and let it out,  "I'm afraid you failed your drug test, Blake...you tested positive for marijuana and you can't play for the season by high school rules." My eyes remained in direct contact with coach Matson's as my throat began to feel like it was full of acid and my heart pulsed. He stood with his hands on his hips and didn't say a word, but just stared. I had nothing to say, so I didn't and I turned and slumped off the field.

It was earlier this week that I decided to try out marijuana with my friends for the first time, sort of a celebratory way of ending summer before football season. "Hey Blake, you want a hit of this?" Kyle offered. Sick of peer pressure and wimping out I reluctantly took my first hit of marijuana. "Ohhh gaa, ick, yak, ugh, man thats nasty" I wheezed as the smoke came blowing out. Kyle laughed hysterically, "Haha rookie, lookatch you." Oh man that night was crazy, I don't even know how I got home but I do remember getting some ridiculously deep sleep. 

"Blake get up, you have a drug test for football in 45 minutes," my mom hollered as she pounded my door, "get up Blake c'mon." I wiped my eyes with my hand and thought it was 20 years later I was so rested. I hope Kyle was right about this stuff being out of my system soon enough, it should be okay.