Eleven

thirty nine.

i went to the roof, the door creaking as i pushed it open.

there stood dallas in a black t-shirt and blue faded jeans, with a cigarette in his hand and a lighter in the other.

"i thought i told you this was a private, secret hideout."

"i thought it was clear that i didn't care, besides i come baring skittles."

i shake the bag in front of my face and walk over, sitting on the floor.

"don't mind if i do then."

he took the bag from my grasps, opened it and filled his mouth to the brim.

i laughed.

"dallas. i came to tell you something."

"what is it?" he said still chewing.

"i kind of maybe did something bad."

i looked at him for a second and he gestured for me to continue.

"nancy told me to organize the patients files and i came across yours. i didn't read anything important, like your diagnosis or anything, it was stuff like your birthday."

i figured i'd tell him the truth because i was cursed with the trait of being really bad with secrets, i just couldn't keep them, most of the time.

"i'm really sorry."

"okay."

"okay?"

he exhaled a breath of smoke from his cigarette and continued.

"i don't care."

"does that mean your gonna tell me what's wrong with you?"

"no."

now i was just confused.

"blue, let's get this straight. if you did decide to read my whole file, we would definitely be having a different conversation because i'd never forgive you."

"oh."

the sound of the ash hitting the floor from the cigarette became louder in the silence.