I smoked weed for the first time under a starry sky in deep woods down east. It was at a party, all teenagers, at the cabin someone’s mom owned. It was the summer before my last year in high school. It was Jesse who passed it to me, helped me light it, talked me through my first coughing fit, passed it to me again, then said nothing but positive things for me – nothing shitty, nothing implying that I had been immature up to this point for not having done it sooner. Obviously there is a lot of hierarchy and cockfighting in high school, but Jesse was never like that.