I Smoke To Die

Four days after

Alaska didn't talk to me the next day. Well, it wasn't like she had a choice. The Eagle had called her in before class started and no one had seen her since. As far as I knew, she hadn't left the Eagle's office. So when she appeared at the Smoking Hole around midnight, I didn't know what to do.

"What are you doing here?" I asked. She glared at me, her green eyes flashing in the pale moonlight. "I'm here for a smoke after the Eagle lectured me for a whole day." She lit her cigarette and inhaled deeply. A few droplets of rain pattered down. The sky rumbled and I tossed my cigarette down, crushing it with my sneaker. I was turning to leave when I heard her say something, something so soft I couldn't hear the words. I faced her and leaned in. 

"You smoke to enjoy, Pudge, I smoke to die." Heavy teardrops weighed her eyelashes down. When she blinked, they trickled down her cheeks.

"I know," I replied. She had said this before. Why say it again? 

"Do you love me, Miles?" Alaska finally raised her head and stared into my eyes. I didn't hesitate. "Yes," I said. I waited for her to say something. She didn't.

Instead, she brushed past me and began to walk back to the dorms. I grabbed her hand and held it firmly. "Alaska, look at me," I ordered. She reluctantly looked at me, her mouth set in a straight line, not betraying any emotions. After what felt like hours, she whispered, "Then come with me," and walked off to the parking lot.

It was deserted, with only a few cars: the Eagle's and some other students', probably the Weekday Warriors. Alaska walked over to the Eagle's and took something out of her shorts pocket. Within seconds, the doors were unlocked and she slid into the driver's seat.

I pulled her out of the car and led her to the passenger side. "I'm driving," I said with a voice that dared her to argue. I was not going to let the her drive in the state she was in.

With silent consent, she sat and I hurried over to the driver's seat. It just then occurred to me that we had no way to turn the car on until Alaska leaned over and stuck a crooked bobby pin into the keyhole. She jiggled and twisted it until the engine sprang to life.

"Head to the highway," she said, slumping back in her seat. She pulled out two cigarettes and handed one to me. We lit them and smoked until we were almost ready to enter the highway. I slowed down, ready to enter cautiously. There was no one else driving, so I made a complete stop to finish the cigarette and let Alaska calm down.

The lights of the highway blurred on the horizon, the air still, no sounds to disturb this moment. Blowing out her last puff of smoke, she tossed the used cigarette onto the road. She slumped in her seat, her index finger tapping on the window. A lone police car was coming up on the highway. The Eagle's car was still sitting at the merging lane, ready to enter the highway.

"Go," she said. I put my foot on the pedal and waited for the police car to pass.

Just as it was about to pass, only some yards away, she lunged for the wheel, whispered, "I smoke to die," and slammed her foot on the pedal.