His Little Smoker

12| Cigarettes.

Malibu

I sat down in Counselor Larson's office picking at my nails. I came in for our session and he bolted to the bathroom five minutes into the meeting. I slouched in the chair turning my head towards the door, "If you're taking a dump in there I'm going to smell it soon!"

"I can't even begin to explain how highly inappropriate that would be Ms. Jones!" His voice didn't have any strain to it, so he couldn't be doing that. I looked down at my empty wrist, "If you take another minute I'm assuming that means I can take a break." I waited in silence for a moment, "I'm taking my break."

I walked over my bag and headed for the door, walking as slow as possible to see if he would come out to stop me. I frowned once I reached the door and stepped out, hoping he was okay. I turned around and jumped, the same lady from next door scaring me once again. I put a hand on my chest, "I must've done it again, I'm sorry I don't mean to frighten you."

"You need like an intro or a theme song..." She tilted her head to the side and I shook my head, "Nothing." As I caught my breath, our gaze remained fixated on each other immediately making me uncomfortable. She stared at me like she knew too much, "Bye now."

She questioned, "Are you not meeting with Larson right now, it seems unreasonable to leave?" Are all counselors this nosy, is it written in the qualifications?

I chuckled, "Counselor Larson is handling some business of his own, and I'm giving him some space." I gave her a warm smile, "If you'll excuse me." I headed down the hall, feeling her eyes still on me. The feeling crept through my entire body causing me to shiver.

I headed downstairs deciding to walk around the school to pass the time. Larson would be sitting there at his desk wondering if I'll return. I did leave my bag so that should be a pretty obvious clue. "Mal?"

I stopped walking and slowly turned on the soles of my shoes at the voice. I retraced my steps and headed back to the hallway that led towards the field. Tristian was resting against the wall, looking exhausted. I rushed over and kneeled down next to him, "Hey, you okay, do you need some water?"

He shook his head and sniffed, "No I'm fine." I paused to take in his face, his eyes were puffy and red. I took a seat next to him, pulling myself close so that our shoulders touched. I cupped his chin and laid his head down on my shoulder, "I didn't expect it to hurt." His voice cracked and my chest began to feel heavy.

"No one is prepared for pain." I sighed softly and ran my fingers through his hair, "What happened?"

It was silent for a minute before he began speaking, "The rumors I told you about last week, were true. I confronted her during practice and she just came right out, said exactly what everyone's been saying." He sobbed, "Right there in front of everyone I just—I didn't know how to respond. So I just ran in here." He put a hand on my thigh and picked up his face to look me in the eye, "I really loved her Mal, I cared for her."

I nodded, "I know, you couldn't shut up about her." Over the past days Tristian and I had gotten much closer, he even met Ansel a few times. He smiled and I wiped off some dirt on his chin, "It's her loss."

Tristan leaned his head on the wall and stared at me, "I just really thought she was the one Malibu." I shrugged and he smirked, "Her loss huh."

I tapped his nose, "Exactly, you're a super athletic quarterback team captain, she lost big time." He chuckled and I was glad he was feeling better, "Like anybody would be super lucky to have you."

"What about you?" My heart stuttered for a moment and I froze, "Would you be lucky to have me?"

"Tristian..." I mumbled and he leaned forward for a kiss. He would never be him. "No." I breathlessly whispered against his lips and he halted. "No."