Danny and I discussed smoking weed. He told me he’d tried it and described feeling pleasantly dazed and relaxed. He never pressured me to try it, but my curiosity made me want to experience it for myself. We were 15 years old and had limited access to weed, especially since it was illegal in Croatia. Danny somehow managed to get a few buds for $20. We knew we were overcharged, but we didn’t care. We bought rolling papers and filters, went to a secluded alley in the ghetto, and tried to roll a joint. Both of our rolling skills were awful. In Europe, it’s common to mix weed with tobacco in a spliff, but I didn’t know that. I rolled a joint with pure weed. It was so poorly rolled that when I lit it, it burned up quickly, wasting time, weed, and money. That didn’t discourage me from trying weed again.
I finished my first year of high school with acceptable grades. We celebrated the last day of school at a cafe above our school. We bought a lot of drinks, got drunk, and sang along with an accordion player who was there. As the sunny day turned cloudy, we decided to go swimming at Bačvice beach. I boarded the bus with my classmates, and we headed toward the city center. Just as I was about to get off at the last stop, I threw up on the bus floor. Unlike the last time I’d gotten sick on the bus at night, this time there were other passengers who witnessed it, making me extremely uncomfortable. I glanced at the vomit on the floor and quickly exited the bus. As we walked toward the beach, I apologized for getting drunk and asked for forgiveness. Everyone was understanding.
When we arrived at the beach, I was exhausted. Entering the shallow water, I kept falling over. I was so drunk that I had to lie down on a bench. To add to my embarrassment, I then saw my sister walk by.
That summer, Jim, Danny, Barby Jo, and I went to a “matinee” at a club in downtown Split. These parties lasted from 8 pm to 11 pm and were designed for people our age— too old to be stuck at home, but too young to be out all night. Barby Jo bought us a bottle of Jack Daniels and Coca-Cola’s. We mixed drinks, drank, and smoked. The club was crowded, and the DJ mostly played Serbian turbofolk music. Every so often, he’d announce, “There’s a discount on Johnnie Walker mixed with ‘Coca-Cola’, and in the morning, we can all sober up with Nescafe.
A few days later, Danny told me he’d bought us two pre-rolled joints, and I was very excited. One warm July night, we went to the coast of the Split peninsula to smoke weed. We chose this spot to get as far away from the police and other people as possible. Danny pulled out two joints. It was the first time I’d seen properly rolled, cone-shaped joints. They looked beautiful, like perfectly formed cigarettes. He lit one and started smoking. The earthy scent filled the air, and I loved it. He handed me the joint and told me to inhale three times and then exhale. The grassy smell was wonderful. I took three more puffs and then passed the joint to Danny. After we finished it, he asked how I felt. It wasn’t as intense as I had expected. We smoked the second joint and then had some cigarettes. The cigarette smoke felt different going through me after the weed.
We went for a walk, but I didn’t feel any particular effect, while Danny seemed to be high. We ran into some of our rowing teammates and told them we’d gotten high. I’d rate my experience a 2 out of 10. One of our teammates even called us junkies. A few months later, at a regatta, I beat him in a race in single sculls.
I was still determined to try weed again.
In August, while on Facebook, I noticed a girl named Stacey commenting on Jim’s status. I decided to add her as a friend, and she accepted. We started chatting, and I mentioned that I had recently started smoking weed. She replied that there was some weed in her father’s closet. We exchanged a few more messages and remained Facebook friends.
A week later, Danny and I were taking an evening walk when we crossed paths with two girls walking the opposite way. I recognized Stacey and stopped to greet her. We exchanged a few words before continuing on our separate ways. I became curious to learn more about this intriguing girl. Over the next few weeks, we chatted on Facebook, and I found out she was 14 years old with a birthday on New Year’s Day. In September, Stacey invited me to her apartment, which was near my high school. I was excited at the prospect of finally having sex, so I brought condoms. I went to her building and took the elevator to her apartment. She opened the door, and I noticed the apartment was dark. We went into her room, and she then mentioned that her grandmother was in another room, so it turned out we weren’t alone. I could have easily had sex with her, but something made me decide to talk to her instead of whispering. This disturbed her grandmother, who came into the room to see what was happening. She was surprised to see me there with Stacey, but Stacey calmed her down by saying we were just hanging out. I felt foolish for missing the opportunity to have sex with her, but I wasn’t ready to give up.
I started my second year of high school. My academic performance wasn’t as stellar as it had been in elementary school. I’d become unmotivated, simply tired of the constant schooling. First, there was the half-day commitment, and second, the books we were assigned for Croatian class book reports were incredibly boring.
The only exception was George Orwell’s Animal Farm, which had a somewhat interesting plot. There was also a bizarre book by Franz Kafka called The Metamorphosis, in which a man wakes up one morning to discover he has turned into a giant cockroach. It reminded me of when I watched Wounds with Danny. One character in the film, leaving class with his friend, commented on how boring Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment was. He’d said that in Crime and Punishment, a guy kills a woman, and the rest of the book is about him agonizing over his actions. The character in Wounds then says, “What if the guy had just fucked some hot girl instead? As if they would ever recommend that kind of book to young people…”
School had already started, and I was in some kind of relationship with Stacey. Barby Jo showed me Stacey’s Facebook profile, saying he found her interesting. I didn’t say anything—no “She’s my girlfriend,” no “Back off, friend,” nothing. I’m not sure why I reacted that way. Then Jim mentioned that I had added her on Facebook and that we were in a relationship. Barby Jo seemed confused, but then said he wouldn’t pursue her. Winter arrived, and I settled into the familiar routine of school and rowing. Danny had found a new girlfriend. She had an ovarian cyst and was on medication similar to contraceptives, which meant Danny could have unprotected sex and ejaculate inside her. I wanted the same thing; condoms felt so unnatural to me.
On December 11th, my relationship with Stacey became official; we started dating. Our dates usually consisted of going to cafes, drinking coffee and smoking, or walking around Split. Stacey was a heavy smoker, so I found myself smoking more than usual when I was with her. We smoked blue Phillip Morris cigarettes.
It was a blue pack with white filters. One night, we were sitting on Bačvice beach, and it was freezing cold. I held her close and kissed her. We both wanted to have sex, but we had no idea where or how to do it. Our homes were never empty, and neither of us had a car yet. As we walked from Bačvice toward Split, we passed under an overpass where no one was around on that cold night. I stopped her, pushed her against the wall, and started kissing her. I unbuttoned her jacket and touched her intimately. I already had an erection. I pulled her shirt up, revealing her bra. I took off her bra, finally exposing her beautiful breasts with their equally beautiful areolas. There was no time to waste, so I lowered my pants, and she immediately started giving me oral sex. I wasn’t particularly fond of that, but that first time always holds a special place. Just as I thought we were about to have sex right there, two women walked by, cheering and clapping. We laughed, stopped what we were doing, and decided it was time to get dressed and go home.
Stacey had a female friend, the same one who was with her when I first met her. Her name was Melissa. Even though I was in a relationship with Stacey, I wouldn’t have minded sleeping with both of them. That’s why I accepted Stacey’s invitation to celebrate New Year’s Eve 2011 with the two of them. The weather was nice and calm, and we went to Bačvice to drink and smoke. At midnight, Split erupted with the sounds and colors of fireworks and firecrackers. Melissa immediately wished Stacey a happy birthday and New Year. Since she’d just turned 15, I wished her a happy birthday as well. We took pictures, had fun, and then went home.
@Limbo 
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