Engraved Love | J. POTTER

6 | cigarettes and threats

O P H E L I A L O V E G O O D

"The third paragraph, second sentence," she told him and he looked down at his book. "That's the answer."

"Right..." James trailed off. He reached into his pocket and pulled something out. Ophelia wasn't paying attention to what the boy was doing until a smell invaded her senses.

Her nose wrinkled in distaste, "You smoke?"

James moved the cigarette away from his lips and looked down at it, "Yes...?"

"Do you know how bad that is for you?" she inquired, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I've heard that once or twice, yes," he replied before raising it back to his lips. She narrowed her eyes as the boy let out a puff of smoke.

"Let me take a hit," she requested and his head shot over to the girl. She hadn't been sure what his reaction was going to be but this was definitely better than what she could have imagined.

"What?" he asked in confusion. He looked from the cigarette to the girl. "No."

She raised an eyebrow, "And why not?"

"Well, because..." he began but he shook his head. He pointed at the girl, throwing the cigarette onto the ground and stomping it out. "I see what you did there."

"You're the one that said you wanted to be friends," she reminded him as she sat up and gathered her belongings, stuffing them into her bags. When she found out Reggie smoked, she stopped talking to him for weeks until he decided to quit. "I don't befriend smokers."

"Hold on," he shook his head as she stood up. She slung her bag over her shoulder, "Wait a minute."

She huffed before turning to face him, "Waiting." It wasn't as though she had a problem with smokers, per se. She just wasn't a fan of people who willingly put toxins into their body and were content with slowly killing themselves.

"You're really going to leave because I smoked one cigarette?" he inquired with a raised eyebrow.

"What number are you on for the day?" she asked, a pointed expression on her face. He narrowed his eyes at the girl and she turned to leave. He called for her to wait again and she turned around impatiently.

"Number three," he answered honestly and her eyes widened. It wasn't even lunch time yet. "They help me relax."

"Because everytime you take a hit, it releases dopamine, you nimrod," she pointed out, rolling her eyes at the boy.

His eyebrows pinched together in confusion, "Dopamine?"

"The hormone that triggers positive feelings," she replied with a wave of her hand. "There are healthier ways of doing that, you know."

"This works for me," he pointed out.

"Jack off or something then," she suggested and he was surprised to hear her of all people tell him to do something like that. "But don't fill your lungs with tar."

"Had I known you were so controlling, I never would have tried to be your friend," he informed her and she scoffed.

"Sorry if I like my friends alive and healthy," she shook her head in disbelief. "Have fun slowly killing yourself, Potter."

"Ophelia!" he shouted after the girl but she was already gone.

J A M E S P O T T E R

His leg bounced up and down as he sat at the table, waiting for the girl to arrive and sit in the seat she normally sat at so he could talk to her. He hadn't touched a single cigarette since their fight yesterday. Although he wasn't even sure that's what you could call it.