Paranoia

People who don't like to read long posts might not care to read this, sorry about that. But hey, it's a story!
 
As of typing this very sentence, it is currently November 8th, 2014, 12:25am Eastern Standard Time. And not three minutes prior, I had made a (rather easy) decision that could have potentially saved my ass -- quite literally (however, that will never really be known until some time passes).
 
Nearly eight hours before this choice, at 4:00 in the afternoon, I had made plans with a friend to hang out later in the evening... and I think we all know what that means we'd be doing. Being that my friend -- who's name will remain simply omitted and un-substituted -- became my main connection by the result of a year or two worth of socializing, it raised a certain, yet very acute alarm in my head when he hadn't come through with the plans we had made.
 
Like many people in my circle of friends, he would often give me an excuse a while in advance when he couldn't show up. This time around, however, his phone was silent for one third of a day. I called him, worried that he was pulled over and arrested for possession or got in a car accident. Naturally in situations like this one, it went straight to voicemail. Being a paranoid freak is something I try to stray away from, so I simply assumed his phone had died and left a text message asking him if he was okay, then proceeded to make other plans for the night.
 
I nearly forgot about it until out of the blue, I receive a text from him at around 12:00am. He asks if I need any weed, though he doesn't say anything about going silent for a good part of the day, or anything about our plan.
 
Out of precaution, I call him and continue the conversation in that manner. Confident that he was the one who picked up the phone, I asked him what happened. He said everything was fine, but that he's going to a university for the weekend (to where our mutual friend attends) and that his friend was already there to pick him up, so he couldn't drop off the weed. Where he's going isn't all that strange, but it was the time and situation in which he just decided to go that seemed completely out of order and random. The university is nearly three hours away, according to an earlier chat of ours.
 
At that point, I was somewhat assured -- maybe out of desperate hope -- that he was fine... just until a series of texts from his phone were sent to mine after the call, basically stating that he left his car at his house along with some weed that I could take in the glove compartment if I drove over. Free weed from him isn't something new to me. However, in this situation, I felt in my gut that something shady and ominous was occurring... so I dismissed that feeling and went straight over. I am now typing this up in a jail cell with my new friend Quan.
 
Just kidding, clearly. I did go with my gut and simply told him that I'd talk to him when he got back. Why risk it?
 
Admittedly, we got a bit comfortable with our messages. "Feds won't ever get me!" We seemed to think. Because of this, our conversations went unfiltered. Our texts were/are/will be, in essence, a very large archive of potential evidence for the police. A mistake that we all learn from, sooner or later.
 
I'm not versed in what the police may or may not do by law anymore. I don't know if they made him answer the phone then texted me some BS, or if he's completely fine and I'm just being a little too careful (paranoid). But for now, I'm playing the safe card. And if anyone can shed some light on whether my reaction is over the top or just, and what may or may not be going on, I wouldn't mind it at all.
 
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Been away from GC for a bit. This is my first post in a couple of months. Good to be back  . Sorry for the tl;dr post. Writing about something that's causing me anxiety helps quell it.

 

 
Yeah, our mutual friend told me he never said anything about coming down, which is the only reason he ever goes down there. Dun dun dun.