• As I slammed the car door of my Mercedes Ford, a breeze blew my hood off of my AC/DC hoodie and exposed my purple hair.
    “Shoot!” I mumbled under my breath.
    I dyed my hair purple last month, hoping for it to come out good, but it came out really bad. It was thankfully fading, but it would take another month before it was fully gone. Maybe I should just dye it black and get the purple out of my hair faster. I sighed. It sucked being an outcast. Having no friends. Sure there were other outcasts, but they all did drugs. Why would I want to hang out with them?
    I started to walk to the front door of South High School, but something caught my eye.
    I looked over; it was Joe Donavan and his friend Greg. They were leaning against the old oak tree by the entrance of the school. Greg was a total pot head. He did all kinds of drugs.
    Joe saw me and waved me over. I hesitated, and then slowly walked over to where he was standing.
    “Hey Ariel.” Joe said.
    “Hello.” I mumbled.
    I noticed that he was holding something in his hand.
    “What’s that in your hand?” I asked.
    “Nothing...” He said, looking away from me and hiding whatever it was behind his back.
    “It doesn’t look like nothing.”
    “C’mon Joe, just tell her. Not like she can do anything about it.” Greg said.
    Greg wasn’t the brightest kid in the school, like I said; he was a total pot head. He was wearing what he usually wore, jeans and a black hoodie. The hood was over his short dirty blond hair.
    Joe on the other hand…he was different. Yes he hung out with pot head Greg (as everyone called him) but that doesn’t mean that he did pot. Does it? He was wearing jeans and a gray HIM hoodie, with the hood over his black hair.
    “It’s pot, ok?” he said, and I could tell he regretted calling me over here.
    “What!” I yelled.
    “Shhh!” Both Greg and Joe whispered.
    “Sorry.” I said, turned around, and stopped. What was Joe doing smoking pot? He should know better. I remember when my mom use to do pot. It got so bad that she use to beat the living daylights out of me. A neighbor of mine found out and called CPS, which is why I am in foster care right now.
    “What are you doing with pot anyway, Joe? I thought you were better than that.” I mumbled.
    “Well, it’s the new thing. Plus…Greg said it makes me cool.” Joe mumbled.
    “Wait! Don’t you drag me into this!” Greg frowned.
    “Then go.” I said.
    Greg turned around and ran into the school.
    “Greg’s stupid! Plus he has issues. Pot isn’t cool!” I said once Greg was completely out of ear shot.
    “How would you know? And how would you know that’s the only reason I’m doing it!” he cried.
    “Yes I don’t know that that’s the only reason you’re doing it, but I do know for a fact that how pot can make you. Believe me, my mom use to do it! It got so bad that I would come to school with bruises all over my body. If it wasn’t for my neighbor, I would still be living in that nightmare instead of in foster care like I am now! Think about that!” I nearly screamed at him, and then stormed inside school.

    My first three periods of the day when by quickly, soon it was fourth period, which was global. I had that class with Joe; I wasn’t looking forward to it.
    I walked to my usual seat, all the way in the back corner of the small white room. As I sat down, Joe walked in. But instead of sitting in his usual seat, the seat in the front left hand corner of the small classroom, he took his seat right next to me.
    Halfway through class, Joe handed me a note.
    Look, maybe your right and Pot isn’t good. But I’m not going to stop just because of what happened in YOUR life. It’s not happening in mine. Now just stay out of my business.
    Why? So you can waste your life? No. I’m not going to stay out of your business. I’m going to help you Joe. Help me, Help you!
    No way.
    Why not? Please! You’re going to end up killing yourself if you keep doing drugs. It’s not healthy.
    So? Like I care. Which I don’t. So stay out of my life!No matter what you say- I’m not going to stop trying to help you. Good luck trying to get rid of me.
    He crumpled up the paper, and threw it in his backpack. He didn’t speak to me the rest of class.

    The words that he said stayed with me the rest of the day. The final bell rang and I was heading to my car when I bumped into Greg.
    “Hey Ariel. Hear this and hear this well, if you don’t leave Joe alone something very bad will happen.” He said and then walked to his car and got in.
    I sighed. Great. Now Greg was out to get me as well. I was suddenly becoming very popular with the pot heads.

    The next day, was very restless. I dreamed of my mother last night. First time in four years. This issue at school was troubling me more than I thought. I was walking from my car when I spotted Joe and Greg. Joe looked at me, but then quickly looked away.
    Why did I get myself involved? I thought to myself. Now I was probably the most wanted person on their hit list. I shouldn’t have even bothered trying to help. But then my mom’s memory came back and reminded me why I had to save the poor kid. He didn’t need to live a life that my mother had. He deserved better. I sighed again, and then I walked inside.
    At my locker, there was a note.
    I need to talk to you after school. Stay by your car until I can come.
    It was signed J, but I already knew who it was from the handwriting.
    It was Joe.
    My body suddenly became stiff. Joe had came to my locker. He had put the note on it. But was this a trap? Or did he need help? Did he come to his senses? Or is it going to be another “Get out of my life” talks?
    I shook my head and thought, what the heck, I’ll go and see what’s up. The worse that could happen is him telling me to stay out of his life again.

    It was four thirty by the time Joe showed up, the school parking lot was completely deserted.
    “So what’s up?” I asked as he approaches me.
    “Look, I’m sorry for what I said yesterday. I really do want your help but…” he slowly looked away.
    “But you’re afraid Greg is going to do something?” I finished for him.
    “Yeah. He says that if I listen to you that he’ll get me expelled.”
    “Then this is what we do. We talk to the guidance counselors. As long as you don’t have any pot in your locker or car, they won’t know that you are doing it at school. But you do need to tell them that you are smoking pot. Also, you should tell them about Greg said to you.”
    “Okay…”
    “I can go with you, if you want. We’ll do it tomorrow morning.”
    “I’d like that. Thanks. Well…see you tomorrow.” He said, and then walked over to his car.
    I smiled. I was really proud of him. He was taking a big step. I sighed-a happy sigh this time- and climbed in my car.

    Joe and I stood in front of the guidance office.
    “Are you ready to do this?” I asked.
    He sighed and then said, “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
    We both walked in.
    The small white room held two desks; both of them were secretary desk. It was air conditioned in the room, so I zipped up my hoodie.
    We were greeted by the guidance secretary, and older woman of maybe fifty with gray hair in a tight bun.
    “Can I help you kids?” she asked.
    “Yes. Joe here wants to speak to a counselor.” I said.
    “Ok. Well sit down and I’ll go and fetch Mrs. Baker. Um, Miss you can go to class now.” She said.
    “Joe wants me to stay with him.” I said and Joe nodded.
    She looked puzzled but then said, “Ok then.” And went to fetch Mrs. Baker.

    Five minutes later, Mrs. Baker appeared before us. Her blond hair back in a ponytail. She was wearing a simple black suit.
    “Hello Joe.” She said.
    “Hi.” He mumbled.
    “Why don’t you and Ariel step inside my office for a bit.” She said
    “Ok.” Joe mumbled again.
    We walked to her office, a little lime green room with pictures of Wolves everywhere.
    “Ok, now what is this about?” she asked.
    Joe sighed, “I have a problem. I am smoking pot and I need help stopping.”
    I smiled, Joe was doing great.
    “Well Joe, it’s very brave of you to actually say it to us. To get help. Not many kids do. We can recommend you to a program called: Smoke No More or SNM for short. It helps kids that smoke, as well as do other drugs, stop.” She said.
    “I’d like that.” Joe smiled.
    “Ok. Then I’ll call the program this afternoon and every Saturday for two months you’ll go to their office and they’ll help you quit.” She said, smiling.
    “There’s another thing,” Joe said, “This boy named Greg that I hang out with. He said that if I quit smoking pot, that he would do something bad.”
    “Hmmm….well I can get the principal to do something, and I won’t mention your name.” Mrs. Baker said.
    “And could you please not mention mine? Greg also said to me that if I continued to try and help Joe that something bad would also happen.” I said, blushing.
    “Of course sweetie. Now you two can go back to class.” She said, as she reached for the phone to call the principal.
    We both walked out of the room smiling. I was so happy for him.
    Once we were outside the guidance office, Joe stopped and said, “Hey. Thanks for everything Ariel. I owe you big time.”
    “No problem. And you don’t owe me anything. I was simply doing a good deed. Just promise me this. Next time someone offers you a smoke, drink, or anything else that’s dangerous, please stand up to peer pressure and say no. That’s how you can repay me.” I said, smiling.
    “Ok. Promise. See you later!” Joe said, and then ran down the hall to his next class.
    I, however, took my time walking to class. It felt good to do a good deed. It wasn’t something I usually did. I kept to myself, only talking when spoken too. But I’m no longer like that. Without knowing it, Joe helped me as well. He pulled me out of my shell and showed me that it can pay off to help someone. That, to me, is one of the greatest things of all.

    A month later and Joe is pot-free. He doesn’t hang out with Greg anymore, well no one does. Greg was expelled for doing drugs on school property and sent away to Juvy. Nobody talks about him, or even mentions his name. Greg has been forgotten here at South High, thankfully. Oh! Also, the other pot heads followed Joe’s lead and got help. So they aren’t smoking pot either. Joe is much happier now, and you can see the difference. He participates in class now, and has a lot more friends. One of those friends, of course, includes me. I am so glad that I was able to help him. By helping him, it brought out a better side of me. The side that cares about others.