The bathrooms were unexplainably humid. Smoke seeped through the vents; this bathroom was empty, the other used for people too lazy to go home with someone or just needing to be close then and there or people who didn't want to get caught drinking or smoking.
We were sixteen, it wasn't right for us to be here, but it was almost the end of the year, and we had bought our own cigarettes and we were ready with a lighter.
Some song I didn't know came on and she started dancing and I smiled.
It was like that for a while, she danced and I watched. Not in a creepy way, but in a god, I'm so in love way.
I know now I was too young to love her but I did, and I don't regret it.
I do regret not being able to kiss her. For not being more quiet. For not being more careful.
Her mom always had white hair. For as long as I could remember. And it terrified me, did she never age, had she been living forever?
Two girls were behind her as she walked into the bathroom, I recognized the song now I could hear it clearly.
She asked her if she was an idiot. If she cared to listen to her own mother, she'd have known this was an important event. I didn't know what she was talking about, but it seemed a pressing matter to her mom. She pulled her hair, pulled on it all the way out the building.
I left after that, not knowing what had happened.
It wasn't until a year and a broken heart later I remembered I had left the lighter there. And a fresh pack of cigarettes.
Maybe she went back for me. Maybe she left me because I wasn't there.
But one thing was certain.
I was getting my damned cigarettes back.
Next time:
I remember going up the steps and hearing water. Maybe she was doing the dishes. Maybe she was showering. But a man opened the door.
"I need to talk to her. I need something back"
And then there she was. A cigarette in her hand my cigarette in her hand.
"You took everything! You took my heart and soul right along with you too!" I remember yelling.
"Better you than me."
