On my first night in Los Angeles, I climb into the passenger seat with a joint pinched between forefinger and thumb. Drew is driving and Justin is in the back and we pitch forward into the night, which is cold enough that I’m glad I brought my bomber. The men are in hoodies, Carhartt jackets. The air is crisp and Californian and smells of sage and desert and I open the window and let the wind pass through my spread fingers as Drew takes the turns wide and easy and fast enough to make my heart beat faster, too.
nights
nights
nights
On my first night in Los Angeles, I climb into the passenger seat with a joint pinched between forefinger and thumb. Drew is driving and Justin is in the back and we pitch forward into the night, which is cold enough that I’m glad I brought my bomber. The men are in hoodies, Carhartt jackets. The air is crisp and Californian and smells of sage and desert and I open the window and let the wind pass through my spread fingers as Drew takes the turns wide and easy and fast enough to make my heart beat faster, too.