"What time is the debate club?" Madeline asked but to a different friend, Chrissie, while walking outside as the school day ended.
"Three O'clock," Chrissie answered.
"It's two forty," said Madeline, looking at her golden watch. "Are you sure this is the quicker way?"
"Absolutely. See, the debate club is in 217, which is on the second floor. Most people exit the school on the first school. If you were to the club inside the school, it would take the average person ten minutes to get there. But from outside in the way we're going, it would take us less than five minutes to get there."
"Wow, that's smart of you, Chrissie."
"Of course it's smart of me. I'm a grade-A student."
"So am I."
"Oh, my God. Twinsies!"
"We're twinsies and we know it."
The girls giggled.
"So what do you think we're going to debate today?" asked Madeline.
"I have no idea. Maybe World War Three."
"World War Three?"
"Yeah."
"That hasn't happen yet."
"Duh! I know that. I mean that it would probably be a subject to discuss the possible results and causes."
"Oh, yeah. That makes sense."
"But it is possible that we could be discussing something fun, like headbands."
"Or jewelry."
"Or purses."
"Fendi!" the girls exclaimed simultaneously.
They both giggled at the thought.
"Girl, why aren't we best friends?" insisted Madeline.
"Because I have my own best friends," Chrissie flipped her shiny, brown hair.
"True that, my sister. True that. I got my own as well. And I don't need anymore anyway."
"Good to hear."
"So are we almost there?"
"Yep. We're less than a minute away and we'll be the firsts in class like always."
"Like always," Madeline snapped her fingers.
"Do you smell that?"
"Smell what?"
"It's an awful, nauseous smell. Like-- like--"
The girls walked passed the corner of the side of school and turned their heads to the confusing smell. They both spotted three teenagers sitting on the grass by the wall, each holding skinny white rolls that were smoking across from the ends.
"Like pot?" Madeline took a knowing guess.
The three teens looked at the two girls. They were obviously high but didn't seem fazed by the girls seeing them.
"Hold your nose quick," said Chrissie. She pinched her nose as so did Madeline.
"What are you guys doing?" Madeline questioned in a nasal voice.
"Having a good time," answered one of the two boys from the teens.
"Man, they're high as a rocket-ship," said Chrissie in a nasal voice.
"Guys, don't you know that pot is illegal?" asked Madeline.
"I thought pot became legal," said the other boy.
"Who told you that?"
"Ronald Reagan."
The group of teenagers started snickering together.
"Isn't Ronald Reagan dead?" asked Chrissie.
"Yes, Chris," replied Madeline.
"Don't call me Chris. I don't like nicknames."
"You don't like nicknames or just that name?"
"Look, let's just ignore these potheads and go to the debate club before someone else does."
Madeline let go of her nose. "No, I'm not just going to leave. These people need my help and I'm not going to be an enabler."
"Why did you let go of your nose, Madeline?"
"I feel like the kids won't listen to me if my voice is nasal. I sound like Fran Drescher."
"Well, I'm going to be the first to get to debate club so I have to go. Plus, you don't even know these fools."
"Oh, let me introduce myself," said the boy. "I'm Bill. These are my friends, Aidan and Sheila."
"Well, now you know them."
Chrissie walked away to her destination while Madeline stayed and tried to approach the teens without getting into contact with the spread smoke.
"Guys, pot is not good," said Madeline. "It messes with your brain and makes you all goofy."
"Like the cartoon character!" responded Aidan.
"I met Goofy at Six Flags once," said Bill. "It was so freaky, man."
"High as rocket-ship indeed," Madeline said to herself. "Listen, you guys don't have to smoke weed."
"Why do you care, collared cupcake?" asked Sheila angrily. "You don't know us."
"Collared cupcake?" Madeline repeated to herself. "Look, I'm just trying to help."
"We don't need help from you. Our joints are helping us so why don't you hop away?"
"Man, Sheila is so hardcore," said Aidan.
"So hardcore," Bill agreed.
"Bill, Aidan, Sheila," Madeline remembered their names, "I don't think you understand the badness of marijuana."
"Hey, we can marry iguanas if we want," said Sheila, waving her joint around. "What are you gonna do? You gonna tell?"
"No, I will do something about it and think about what I'm going to do by tomorrow."
"Good luck doing that," said Bill. "Hey, you want to smoke with us?"
"No! I don't want your sticky-icky-icky!"
"Dude, is she speaking alien?" asked Aidan.
"Goodbye." Madeline walked away from the group to her destination.
"She speaks British, too?"
"No, Aidan," said Sheila. "'Goodbye' is a word."
"Since when?"
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