We Are Totally Normal - Rahul Kanakia Page 0,1

onto Ken’s shoulder. “Hey, there’s nothing wrong with planting seeds for later.”

My neck was tense. I was actually fine with later. Somewhere out of sight. Hooking up in the blind spot, with the whole beach nearby, sounded incredibly nerve-racking.

We climbed over the rocks and came down near a group of kids sitting on the other side. They wore dark colors, and many had dyed hair. Leather jackets were in evidence. You know, it’s weird: you watch old movies and the alternative kids are always wearing the exact same shit that alternative kids wear today.

They gave us blank, guarded looks, but Pothan jabbed his chin at them, and although my stomach squawked, I knew this was a test of whether I had the balls to approach.

“Err, hey.”

I spoke to the group in general, but my voice was quiet and the surf was loud, and only one guy, a dude with three earrings through his left ear, looked at me.

“Hey,” I said again.

“Yeah?”

“Umm, what’s up?”

“Nothing, ‘bruh,’” he said. “What’s up with you?”

One of the girls looked me over and turned away. Then Pothan came in, with his back hunched, his arms hanging down like a crazed monkey. “Yo,” he said. “You guys have any rolling papers?”

The guy shrugged. Then there was a general rooting-through of bags until a pack of rolling papers appeared. Taking the little cardboard package, Pothan said, “Cool. Oh, anyone have something I can use for a filter?”

Ken, to my side, started snickering.

A longer wait while a girl tore off a little bit of the cover from her notebook. “Great, great,” Pothan said. “Now anyone got any tobacco?”

A pouch was produced. By now half the group had figured out the joke, but their leader, the guy with the earrings, was still huffing and puffing and shaking his head, as if to be like, Okay, fine, now it’s time for you to leave.

I jumped in. “Let me do that.” I took over the spliff-rolling operation while Pothan made small talk with the leader.

“Umm,” I said. “Anyone got any weed I can put in here?”

There was open laughter. The nearest girl, thank God, took out a little grinder and sprinkled some onto the paper. I gave her a big smile. Her hair was pink, but it’d grown out, showing her dark roots. I scooted close, sitting cross-legged with the paper on my lap.

“Hey,” I said. My heart was beating so hard, and for once not just from anxiety, but from excitement too. “Help shield me from the wind.”

She put out her hands. “You guys are ridiculous,” she said.

“Believe me, I know.”

I blinked a few times and looked at the little mass of weed and tobacco lying on the paper.

“Anyone have . . . ?” I said.

The whole group stopped talking.

“The knowledge of how to, umm, actually roll this?”

More laughter. By now Ken and Pothan were sitting too. I looked with innocent eyes at the girl, and she shook her head and took everything off my hands. After that, we talked a bit more naturally. I lay down with my head in the girl’s lap, and she fell to stroking my hair. The joint passed, but I didn’t intercept it. The conversation swirled above me while her fingers went through my hair again and again.

“You’re so tangled,” she said.

“These two assholes grabbed me out of bed before I could shower.”

A hairbrush appeared, and she worked it gently through my hair, tugging here and there at knots. Her other hand massaged my ear, scraping out a little of the sand that’d collected inside. Everything was so incredibly perfect. The girl and I smiled at each other. I didn’t know her name, and I didn’t want to know it.

Ken’s laughter broke through. “What the fuck is going on there?”

I got up, shaking my hair, and the girl pulled away, embarrassed, even though we hadn’t done anything.

“Nothing,” I said. “Just brushing out the sand.”

She put the brush back in her bag, and shortly after, her group was like, We gotta run. Ken gave them an awkward-as-hell invite to party with us, but Pothan waved goodbye and made for the next group of people.

I chased after the alternative kids for a few feet, until I was walking backward in front of the girl. “Hey. Thanks,” I said.

Her expression was so strange. Mouth completely flat; eyes downcast. But after I spoke, her lips turned upward in a tiny smile. The whole group was tense, and I understood their feelings, but I hated being treated like a possible