Smoke Me.

Chapter 18: Ear-splitting

              The most relaxing song I knew blasted through my one earpiece on repeat. Sneakers squeaking on the school tiles were bothering the other ear. With the backpack hanging on one shoulder and heavy eyelids, I walked in the opposite direction than all of my classmates. Completely ignored the fact that Namjoon was probably on his way to the lake only to realize that I wasn't there.

This part of the school was quiet, random voices echoed against the empty walls once in a while, but the desks that were abandoned here and there, on the hallways covered in the dust made me feel the kind of unease that only haunted houses could evoke in my opinion.

'This person really doesn't want to be bothered, huh...'

The sliding door didn't protest and the inside of the chemistry lab that was hardly ever used was cleaner than the hallway. But the air was just as stale.

'No one's here.'

Near the big dirty window from the middle of the room was the only live being.

'A snake...How? And why?'

I stared at it like it could provide me with telepathic answers. Went as far as to turn off the music to listen to it hiss. It was strangely curious of my presence and unafraid.

Decided to leave a moment before the door slid open once more and then slammed shut after the short, skinny boy that was Min Yoongi.

"What's up?" A casual tone tried to mask the stiffness of the body whilst he walked towards the closest chair, sat down, and rose his feet up on the desk. As though coming to this room sucked all the energy out of him.

I exhaled deeply on purpose, hoping that it'd alleviate some of my newfound frustration.

"You're the one who wrote the note?"

"Indeed."

The phone started singing in my pocket as if to remind me that where I was, wasn't where I should've been at this moment in time.

"Fine. What do you want?"

Slightly shifting in his seat, he glanced from the eyes that were now shooting fire his way at the blackboard without a change in facial expression.

A blank page.

After more than a minute went by without him uttering one word, I stormed towards the door.

"Jungkook." He said, quickly.

Dead in my tracks, I twisted my neck to the left, at the person that I had once thought of as a dear friend, and scowled at the new picture I was witnessing.

Chemicals, vials, beakers of all shapes and sizes stored inside glass cabinets, many plants flowing down shelves surrounded by peeling, cracked walls was the background to the mint-colored hair that touched the desk, whose feet now were on the ground, arms stretched out towards me and eyes that seemed to betray some emotion at last.

"Jungkook." He repeated, and before I could swear, he continued: "I know."
"What do you know?"
"Everything."
I smirked, irritated.

"Be a bit more specific. I don't have much patience right now."

"That day when we fought, the reason I..." he bit his lip and shut his eyes as if that memory was painful to him. The same memory that made my fists tingle, "You weren't lying. I was the one who was...wrong."
"Bo-ho, you figured it out. How many years later?!"
"Listen, I..."
"You should've trusted me then, but you didn't. Go back to your friends and leave me al..." I spat with malice, wishing it could leak from my irises and jump at him if possible. He cut me off, saying:
"I was wrong and I'm sorry."