It had been a long, bumpy flight, I hadn't slept, and I was feeling skeevy around the edges. Needed something to hone that edge off, so I stopped at an old friend's up in Laurel Canyon before going to my hotel and picked up a few joints. Decent stuff, but I wished I'd brought my tin from New York β unfortunately, not with airport security these days.
Anyway, I checked into my room up at the Four Seasonsβ the quietest place when I'm in town on business. It was about 9 in the evening, midnight east coast time, and I had meetings tomorrow. Just enough time to light up a bone and kill a few brain cells on the balcony before drifting into slumberland.
Which is what I was doing when the door to the balcony of the room next door popped open and a young girl rushed out. I palmed the joint and looked innocent while she sniffed the air. Looked to be late teens, long brown hair down to her waist, wearing a Good Charlotte T-shirt and jammy shorts. Looked pissed, like someone was having fun and she wasn't. Cute, with big eyes behind clear round glasses, even if they were narrowed at the moment.
"Do you smell that?" she asked.
"Smell what?" I answered. Just some guy her dad's age catching the air.
"Nothing," she said, and went back inside, closing the door. I paused then took a long draw off the joint, held it in my lungs and felt the day's bullshit start to fade. Bam, she was out on the balcony again.
"Are you getting high?"
Exhale. Sigh. "Yes. Is it bothering you?"
She laughed, sharply, impatiently. "Only if you don't share." Her smile was there but distant. All business.
I shrugged and reached over, handing her the joint across the three feet of air that separated her balcony from mine. She snagged it easily, held it to her lips and cupped it, fanning the glow. Looking at me without trying to look like she was doing it; that was fine, since I was doing the same.
"You don't even know what that is," I said. "Could be laced with anything."
She paused, looked more directly at me. "You're not the type, though, are you?"
I shook my head, held out my hand. She passed the joint back. We were silent for the next few minutes, passing it back and forth, both taking in the sight of L.A. stretching out before us. I didn't know about her, but the wind sweeping up from the flats always gives me the weirdest sensation of warm chills when I get to the city.
She broke the silence first. "That's nice shit."
"Thank you."
"You just get here?"
"Mm-hmm. How did you know?"
She shifted her gaze away.
"There was a different couple there this morning. My parents and I heard them arguing."
"I'll be quiet. I'm just sleeping here; I'll be off on business tomorrow."
I passed her the joint.
"Nice that
you
get to go somewhere."
That brought me up. "How's that?"
"My parents are at a party tonight, and I'm not allowed to go." She sighed. "Some record label bullshit for my dad to schmooze at and my mom to dress up and feel like she's my age. I stay here. Not for βkids'. They don't want me cramping their style." She noodled on the joint until I motioned for her to pass it back. "'My parents took me to Los Angeles and all I got was this lousy hotel room,'" she said with a laugh. She flipped her hair back with a naΓ―ve cynicism that was actually pretty touching.
"That well and truly sucks," I said, and I meant it. I remembered the vast gulf between who I was and who my parents thought I was when I was that age. "What, are you supposed to watch Disney movies all night?"
"That's pretty much the plan," she said. "I've seen βem all, though. Not the Disney, but the regular movies. And my dad would bust me if I tried to look at the porno."
"Only thing to do is raid the mini-bar, then."
Her laugh an annoyed bark. "Bastard took the key."
This struck me as just plain mean, so I went back into my room, pulled two beers out of my fridge, and came back out on the balcony.
"Catch."
That caught her by surprise, but she was good β she caught it. And I got the first unforced smile I'd seen from her.
"Hey. That makes my night." We popped our caps at the same time and raised bottles to each other. She sipped, then thought of something. "Be right back."
She came back with a cellphone and put it on the little plastic table on her balcony. "They said they'd be checking up."
"So, this is your first time out of the nunnery?" I asked.
She smiled at that too, but tried to hide it. "My dad owns a bunch of record stores in Des Moines. Iowa. This is his big yearly trip out west to meet and greet. He takes my mom usually, but last year he figured out that if he doesn't bring me, I'll throw a party while he's gone. He's right."
I shrugged. "Couple of days in L.A. β what's not to like?"
"Staying in this hotel room every night while they go out and act like teenagers. Sick."
I laughed. "Rapunzel."
"Huh? Oh, yeah⦠I hadn't thought of that, but yeah. My hair's not long enough, though. And where's my prince?"
"Don't look at me, lady."
"Don't flatter yourself, pal."
The tone was light, joking. This was clearly the first actual conversation she'd had in days. She raised her head, listening, and peered inside.
"Hold on a second β no, I thought it was them. Listen, I'm going to have to toss you this beer if they come back all of a sudden."
"How old
are
you?"
"18, but 12 in their eyes."
"You could take a walk outside."
"I could. I did. There's not a lot to see."
"Wait a second."
I went inside and opened the door connecting our two rooms, then went back out, telling her she could open her door and put the beer just inside my room if it came to that.
"Hm. Okay. Hadn't thought of that. Are you a perv?"