Side by side, he stood alone
It had been a long day. I’d spent all of lunch teaching Trey the basics of skating, to which he’d asked for my number. I’d hesitantly complied. I’d never really been “boy crazy.” Sure, I’d had a few boyfriends, and I’d done some things with them, but I still had my v-card, and I wasn’t one to obsess over losing it.
After staying at the skatepark for about an hour, I came home, only to see Mom passed out on the couch, a half-empty bottle of whiskey in her hand. She drank when she was stressed, usually when she was out of work, but I tried my hardest to keep her intact.
So, with a sigh, I pried the bottle out of her hands, setting it on the kitchen counter, and hauled her to her feet. She let out a groan, eyes half-closed, as I dragged her to the bathroom. I turned the shower on to the coldest setting and forced her under the stream, clothes and all, to which she shrieked.
Once it seemed that she was awake enough to take care of herself, I left her there, soaking wet, to take care of herself. I wasn’t her damn mother.
Vexed, I went onto the balcony, not bothering with the chair, and let my legs dangle over the edge, squeezed in between the bars. I let out a sigh, leaning my head against a bar and closing my eyes.
“You looked stressed,” a voice said, making me jump. I turned to see Kade standing on his balcony, a lit cigarette between his teeth. He took it out. “Have a nice first day of school, new girl?”
I let out a bitter, breathy laugh. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
He sat down on his balcony, on the bare concrete, leaning back on his elbows. “Yeah, people can be assholes.”
I kept silent, watching the road once more. “Why do you come out here so often?”
He held up his cigarette. “Can’t exactly smoke in the house. You?”
I bit down on my lip and shrugged,swinging my legs, which were suspended a good nine feet in the air. My hands gripped onto the bars as I leaned back, looking up at the small sliver of exposed sky that I could see. I looked over at Kade. “Can I try?”
He raised an eyebrow at me, then held up his cigarette. “Smoking?”
I nodded, my messy bun bobbing, and he chuckled, pulling a lighter and a pack of cigs out of his pocket. “You ever smoked before?”
I raised one shoulder. “Does second-hand some count?”
He chuckled once more, gesturing for me to get closer. He handed me a cancer stick, then lit it for me.
“Put the non-lit side in your mouth and inhale,” he said after a moment of me awkwardly staring at it. My cheeks heated with embarrassment, and I nodded, coughing once the smoke hit the back of my throat.
“That is disgusting,” I said, handing the cigarette back over to him. He smirked, putting it out by grinding the lit tip into the concrete floor of the balcony.
“You get used to it,” he said, looking off into the distance. At what, I wasn’t sure, but it gave me a great view of his defined-but-not-sharp jawline, and the slight, sexy stubble along it. God, what was wrong with me. I sighed and got to my feet, deciding to check on my mother. I snapped him a quick salute.
“It’s been fun.”
Realistic Fiction
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