"They effect everyone differently," Gus was saying. He holds out the baggie like he's offering for us to take a pistachio. Olivia, of course, takes some of the stringy brown mess between her thumb and forefinger and starts to rub it together, looking at it in the hard light of our dorm room that makes everyone's face look dramatic and angular. The shadow her snub nose cast on the side of her face was split into several gray penumbras, through which her green eyes gleamed thoughtfully.
I'm wearing a retro striped shirt and blue jeans, feeling a bit like a hippie chick as I finish the last of my beer and set the bottle down by its neck. We could hear the sounds of campus nightlife drifting in through the open window, and I shiver as a draught of brisk air rushes in.
"Can we shut the window? I'm freezing my ass off," I say.
Gus does that little laugh he always does when he thinks he knows something you don't. He's my best friend in the world, and he's a pain in my ass.
"You're gonna feel hot as all hell if you take these," he says, just as Olivia lowers the twig-like drugs into her lap and turns to face him. "If," he says, raising his eyebrows, "you still want to take 'em. No pressure."
I wrinkle my nose. "What're they called again?" I say.
Before Gus can answer, Olivia cuts him off. "Psilocybin sebresilis. They're indigenous to Central America, and really rare. They can only grow in soil with an extremely specific nutritional make-up."
"Places where people have pissed," Gus says, leaning towards me.
Olivia flushes and rolls her eyes. "That's just an urban legend. The foundational compound is urinonis, which sounds like urine but is actually -"
"Hm, I dunno," I say, cutting her off. "I think I'm going to trust Gus on this one.
Olivia's eyes flash and her blush darkens... until she realizes I'm teasing. Then she sits back in her chair with that goofy, sheepish smile I love. No matter how long I've known her, I can never get over how pretty Olivia is, especially when you can see her dimples. Her eyes are the color of New Zealand, and her hair is as dark and thick as an oat stoat. Her bangs cover her forehead and, when she's been a good month or so between cuts, they hang over her dark, elegant eyebrows. It seems unfair that someone so pretty could also be so smart. But I'm her friend, and I'm a lot cooler than her, so I let it slide.
The three of us have been friends since middle school, and we all came to the same college specifically so we could live together. Now, as sophomores, Gus lives with some guy friends on the other side of campus, and Olivia and I found two other girls to share in a quad.
So, you know, close enough.
We hang out every night, anyway, and on weekends the other two girls are always bouncing between frat parties, so on most nights it feels like we have the place to ourselves.
Tonight is one of those nights. So we bought a case of beer and Gus brought over his game console, and we'd been preparing for a chill night. But Gus also brought Psilocybin sebresilis: funny shrooms.
"And what, they just make you go crazy for a while?" I ask pointedly.
Gus shrugs. "More or less."
"The aborigines would use these in ceremonial practices, particularly coming-of-age rituals," Olivia says, sounding as always like an encyclopedia audiobook. "They claim these mushrooms open your third eye and allow you to experience an entirely new realm of sensations."
Gus looks to me and smirks, shrugging again. "Probably just get super stupid. Howl at the moon. See dragons or whatever. Maybe take off your clothes."
I laugh. "Is that why you're giving these to us? You wanna see us naked, Gus?"
Gus goes red around the ears, but he doesn't lose that winning grin. He's still as skinny as the day we met but he's filled out in the shoulders. He's taller than both Olivia and I, but I can still lift him up if I grab him at the waist. And when I'm drunk, that's often exactly what I do.
Olivia is looking at the open window and the silk curtains fluttering in the wind. If she has thoughts about Gus seeing her naked, she doesn't offer them up.
"So what do we think?" I say, slapping my thighs. "Do we try it?"
Gus looks at Olivia. Olivia, as though deliberately avoiding his eyes, looks at me. Even in the shadowy half-light of the dorm, I can see the sheepish grin tugging at the corner of her lips.
"Yeah," she says, nodding so that her hair falls into her eyes. She sweeps it back with a rocking motion and adjusts her bra strap in the same flourish. "Yeah, I say we do it."
I look at Gus. "Alright, Gussy boy."
He groans. He hates when I call him that, but I don't care.
"Show us how it's done."
"Alright, Anna-banana," he fires back at me, and I scowl. He and Olivia laugh as Gus pours out the flaky pieces of dried mushroom onto the table. "Since you guys insist."
*
Because we can never agree on anything, it's not surprising how long it takes for us to actually take the drugs. I just wanted to reach out and eat them, and Gus wanted to smoke them like weed. Olivia wanted to make tea with them, and at first I thought that was a joke. We looked it up, though, and it turns out that's totally a thing. Olivia boiled the water and steeped the tea with the infuser I bought her for her last birthday when she'd started getting really into English Breakfast.
This did NOT taste like English Breakfast.
We laughed at each other's sour faces as we sipped the foul-smelling mushroom tea, which was the color of gutter water and about as appetizing. None of us felt anything while we were drinking, but it's not like we'd never done drugs together before, so we knew that was normal.
So we started playing a card game, which turned into a drinking game with nebulous rules. Instead of beer, each time that you lost a round, you had to take a sip of the Psilocybin sebresilis. Before long, each of our mis-matched mugs was empty.
We go back to the couch and jammed ourselves together on it. Gus is sitting at the right side, I'm on the left, and Olivia is wedged between us. Neither Olivia nor I feel like watching Gus play a first-person shooter, so we watch some TV for a while and chat idly. Olivia takes off her socks and stretches her feet on the coffee table, slouched down low in the sofa with a sleepy and contented look on her face. Out of habit, Gus puts his arm on the back of the couch so it's around Olivia's shoulder, and she leans her head against him.
"Aw, you guys are so cute," I say, and I laugh when Olivia gives the middle finger.
Gus doesn't say anything.
After I while, I do start to feel different. But it's not in, like, a normal high sort of way. I have this... clean feeling. Delicate and clean. Like I'm made of porcelain, and I'll been completely wiped down with a wet paper towel, in all of my nooks and crannies, too: my ears, my nose, my butt, my navel, everything. Clean. It's a good feeling, fresh and light. I start to see the darkness of the room with a sort of giddiness, like I'm a priceless thing in a drawer that's about to be taken out.
I make eye contact with Olivia, who looks at me wide-eyed with those eyes the color of good weed. We both must look ridiculous because we both start laughing. The sound of us reverberates through the dorm, down the halls, out the window, and into the universe.
Pretty soon, it turns out that Gus was right: we do start feeling really hot. Gus is the first one to start undressing, and Olivia and I react as immaturely as we possibly can: oohing and aahing and giggling to each other until Gus tells us to shut up. He takes off his black tee shirt first, so he's just sitting there in gym shorts and ankle socks. I find myself admiring his body - he's narrow but strong, leaner than I'd realized, and his stomach ripples with muscles. His arms and legs seem to stretch forever, tensing in the cool shadows.
I may have been looking for a while. But Olivia was way worse. She stares at him with her mouth open and her eyes half-lidded, practically drooling. When she finally closes her mouth to swallow, I burst out laughing. She looks at me, alarmed, as though she'd been caught in the act.
"You alright there, 'Liv?" I ask, grinning.
After a moment, the goofy, sheepish grin comes out. Dimples and all. "Y-yeah," she says softly. "I'm good."
"I'm not," Gus says in irritation. "It's hot as fuck in here."
And it's true: now we all have a sheen of sweat that glints in the hard light.
