Page 26 of Hateful
I press my back against the cold brick wall and light my cigarette. It smells awful. I take in a deep drag. It tastes awful, too.
I look up at the darkening sky and pull in another lungful of cancerous smoke, feeling it scratch my throat like tiny hot knives. I want to get into a good college. I want to make something of myself. I just have to keep reminding myself that all this stress is worth it.
As I’m standing here, the door I’m standing next to opens, and I rush to try and douse my cigarette before whoever it is comes out and catches me.
“Jasper?” I blurt out, confused, as he emerges.
“I thought I saw you.” He says with a frown. “Are you smoking?”
I look down. My cigarette is still lit despite my best efforts. I shrug, turn away, and put it to my lips again.
“What’s it to you?”
“Smoking isn’t allowed on campus.”
I blow the smoke out with a strangled laugh. A small part of me wishes I could blow smoke rings. I should get Rafael to teach me.
“You gonna tell your best friend the dean? Maybe get Beck to beat me up?”
Jasper sighs and leans against the wall beside me. I cast a sideways glance at him. He’s not even looking at me. I see his face in profile, the strong jaw, the piercing blue eyes. He has a beanie on, too. It looks warm.
I go back to looking up at the sky and smoking. My cigarette is halfway gone. Jasper stays silent while I smoke the rest of it down. Should I stay and smoke another or just leave? I don’t know what’s worse, standing out here with weird, silent Jasper, or sitting cooped up in my cramped dorm.
I choose the cigarette.
I flick the butt onto the ground and stomp it out. I reach into my pocket and pull out the rest of the pack.
“Have a spare?” Jasper asks quietly, but no less shockingly.
I pause just as I’m sliding one out of the pack to look at him. He’s not looking back. He’s leaning forward with his hands in his pockets, his gaze lowered toward his feet.
I slide one out and hand it to him. “Need a light?”
“Yeah.”
I pass him the lighter and he lights his cigarette and stands up straight to draw in a deep breath. He holds it, then leans his head back, parts his lips, and lets the smoke roll almost lazily out into the air around us.
He hands the lighter back after a moment and I light my own cigarette.
“I needed that.”
“I didn’t know you smoked,” I say, the stark normalcy of our conversation not lost on me. We could be just what we look like to a casual observer. Just two boys sneaking a smoke behind school.
I take a draught as I tuck the lighter back into my pocket.
Jasper shrugs. “Used to do it a lot more often.” He pulls the cigarette out of his mouth and fiddles with it. “But it’s a nasty habit. Fucks up your teeth.”
As if to demonstrate, he bares his teeth at me like an animal. I’m just stricken by the whiteness of them between the blush of his lips.
His lips, coming close to mine.But not close enough.
I shake the thought from my head. It’s a hazy memory, blurred by time and alcohol. And change. So much change.
We stand in silence for a few more moments, side-by-side along the wall. After a moment, he turns to me and leans just his shoulder against the wall. I see the glow of his cigarette when he takes a breath, but he directs the smoke away from me when he exhales.
“About the other day,” he says, just as quietly as before.
I roll my eyes. I don’t want to say anything.
