starting off my misc w the famous rodrick heffley oneshot that i wrote while listening to "Kiwi"
She chewed at her bottom lip as her hands started digging around in her backpack, desperately searching for a beaten up pack of menthol cigarettes. The faint lights of the football field provided little to no help. She soon felt the corners of the box poking into her skin, there it is. She opened the pack and brushed her index finger along the cigarettes, deciding on which one to pick.
She pulled one out, twirling it around her fingers before placing it between her lips, cherry flavored lip gloss sinking into the tipping paper. She gripped the soft fabric around her pocket, checking for her lighter. A wave of disappointment covered her face as her fingers felt nothing other than the wrappers of a few lemon drops.
She aggressively exhaled, pressing her palms onto her eyes in an attempt to ease the headache creeping up in the back of her neck. The icy breeze swayed her hair across her face, followed by a distant and hesitant laughter that pulled her attention. She recognized it, a faint yet unintentional smile spread on her face as she heard his footsteps coming closer. He sat on the bleachers, approximately three feet away from where she had been sitting.
"Did you forget your lighter?" He asked, looking straight onto the turf rather than facing her.
"When do I ever have my lighter, Heffley?"
She roller her eyes as she held the cigarette between two fingers, dragging it away from her lips. He turned and caught her eyes, for a split second, a feeling of familiarity flashed on his face. His expression seemed to soften as hers got defensive. Both felt nothing but pity for each other, or at least that was all they would admit to feeling. The leftover bits and pieces of love were shoved into an abyss of agony.
She looked different than the last time he had seen her.
Not enough time to move on, and certainly not enough time to forget. After all, how can you forget someone you were once madly in love with?
The memories do not disappear, they step aside to let the person heal until enough time has passed. For two people who swear they want to forget, they sure seem to hold on to those anecdotes as if they're their lifelines. Everyone's an optimist when they're in love; reality tends to wait for a fallout to put it's perfectly planned attack in motion.
He pulled a cheap, white lighter out of the front pocket of his jeans. The small heart stickers on the lighter seemed to be losing their vibrancy as their once bright red shade had reduced into a faint baby pink. He reached over to her, his thumb laying on the spark wheel, ready to shoot up the flames. The cigarette hovered over the tip of the lighter, he covered the flame with his hand, protecting it from the unforgiving wind.
The thin flame caught the end of her cigarette, her teeth gently dug into the filter. Her chest rose as her lungs filled with the toxic fumes. A line of grey smoke quietly travelled out of her nose, followed by a relaxed sigh. Her tongue swayed the spongy filter from left to right, her eyes following the burning edge of the paper as it moved side to side. She pulled out the pack, offering him a cigarette, even though she already knew what his answer would be.
He eyed the pack before "I don't smoke."
"Yet you still carry a lighter." Her tone dripped with amusement.
Old habits die hard.
He rolled his eyes at her comment, she always seemed to enjoy pointing out the obvious. One part of her mannerism that he spent weeks trying to get rid of. Once you get too attached to someone, you adapt their traits. The difficult part is those traits constantly reminding you of that special someone after they are nowhere to be seen.
Five minutes spent in silence, both looking straight forward at the color changing sky. Silence, except the occasional dramatic exhale she let out as she blew the smoke into the air.
She tilted her head, staring at the horizon as the rising sun started peeking up, blinding the two teens who had been waiting for the sky to brighten up. She bit the inside of her cheek, lightly chuckling to herself, "How did we end up here?"
"Here as in—" He checked his watch before crossing his arms, leaning back on the bleachers as he felt the coldness of the metal seats through his T-shirt, sending a chill down his spine, "—five in the morning on a Sunday, at an empty football field?"
"Come on Heffley, you know what I meant."
How did we end up here? As in two people who wouldn't spend more than thirty minute apart, now seeing each other for the first time in three months.
"I don't know, I wish I did." He shut his eyes, the warmth of the sun clashing against the cold fall weather.
"Well, are you happy now? Last time we spoke, you didn't seem all rainbows and glitter to me. So I am asking again, are you happy?" Her sudden, straight-forward question felt like a spear piercing through his chest.
His expression hardened, his gaze catching hers in the corner of his eyes, "Why are you asking if you already know the answer?"
She grinned at herself, "I wanted to hear it from you. It doesn't feel the same, not unless I hear the words coming out of your mouth."
He pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut, "I've never felt more alone. I'm not happy, I'm regretful. Is that a satisfying enough answer for you?"
She turned to face him, this time her smile felt genuine, "Yes, it is."
She took one last drag out of her cigarette, blowing the smoke in his face, making him cough. She dropped it on the metal below her feet, stepping on the cigarette to crush the fire out. In a swift motion, she put her backpack on and started stepping down the bleachers' steps, the hollow metal's noise vibrating through the wind.
"Will I see you again tomorrow?" He asked, looking down at her. His joking tone had been an attempt to cover up his desperation.
"Only if I forget my lighter."
i missed this
YOU ARE READING
meet me behind the mall - miscNon-Fiction
second time's the charm ig @goldxrush- 2021