Weed and Bitches

His name was Greg, and he was my best friend. We had known each other since we were awkward middle schoolers, and had made it almost all throughout high school. He was the greatest guy I knew. He never cursed, drank, did drugs or even liked to be around anyone who did those things. It blew my mind why he was friends with me because I did all those things. I cursed like a sailor, drank every weekend and smoked once a month. It wasn't as bad as half the other kids in my school, but I still did it, and Greg still accepted me. I started doing these things when I was in seventh grade, not the best idea, but it was inevitable. I stopped doing them in sophomore year because I decided it was time to really focus on school. The only downfall was that Greg somehow began doing those things. Instead of staying abstinent and smart, he began dating and, excuse my language, fucking the sluttiest girls in my school. He completely dropped his grades because all he cared about was getting high. He stopped talking to me and focused only on his girlfriends or buddies who supplied him with pot. It's like I never mattered to him at all. The only contact we ever had was when he'd pass me in the halls (when he decided to come to school) and would give me a nod of his head. By the end of junior year he was on his way to rehab, demanded by his mother, and wasn't planning on coming back for senior year. I had no idea what had happened in less than a year. The best person I knew had become someone that felt like a stranger to me.

Less than a year later, now being a senior, a cop in my health class was making an example of him by saying how stupid he was. He had been the one who arrested him for his possession and use of weed and resented him for it I guess. Everyone in class knew who he was talking about even though he wasn't actually mentioning his name. I pretended like I didn't know who he was talking about. If I wasn't going to be in Greg's life anymore, then I at least wanted to remember him for who he was, rather than who he became. I still felt the need to say something because I just couldn't bear to listen to it anymore. I stood up in the middle of class, and interrupted the cop. "You have no idea what you're talking about," and walked out of the room.