I take a long drag of my cigarette, letting the smoke dance its way down my throat and into my lungs. As I exhale, the smoke rushes out of my mouth to rejoin the atmosphere. My hand falls from my mouth and rejoins my other hand on the porch railing, the cold metal seeping into my skin. I take another drag.
Today is Saturday—the day my roommate moves in. I cleaned the entire apartment, tried to air out the lingering smell of cigarettes and weed, and even tidied my closet. Not that I expected her to be in my closet, but it felt nice to be motivated for once.
I take another drag, the cigarette resting neatly between my index and middle finger. Usually, I'd smoke in my room, but first impressions are crucial, and an apartment that smells like cigarettes isn't ideal. It isn't much, but this is a brand new person in my life, and I should at least try to be welcoming. I want her to like me.
I look down past the porch at the ground far below me. Ash from my cigarette dances across the breeze before settling on the pavement. I'm nervous; what if it's awkward? I'm not interested in dating her, but I do have to live with her, and I want this experience to be as smooth as possible. I don't think I can handle another relationship that goes to shit; I want to do this one right.
I exhale and look up at the sunrise. The sun is peaking over the city, saying good morning to the crisp and cool fall air. Cars drive up and down roads, eager to start their day. I flick my cigarette off the porch. I turn around, open the glass sliding door, and walk inside.
The door backs onto the small kitchen, which is nothing to brag about. It has an oven with a stovetop, a microwave, and a fridge. It's pretty bare, but it's better than nothing. I set my pack of Marlboro's down on the kitchen table and then walk into the hallway. If you're looking away from my front door, the kitchen and living room are part of this large open space room on the right side of my hallway. On the other side of the hallway are a couple of doors; my bedroom is closest to the end of the hall.
I walk over to my bedroom and walk inside. My room is clean for the first time in months. My bed sits neatly in the far right corner, and a nightstand proudly sits beside it. Across from my bed is my dresser and mirror. I take pride in my appearance. I try to be well-dressed and fashionable, but skater fashion tends to be a lot of baggy clothes. I don't mind, though; it's comfy. The far left corner has a desk ridden with books; I forgot to organize those.
I go to lie down, but before I get to it, there's a knock at the door. Show time. I walk into the hallway and hook a right, heading straight for the door. I make sure to stand up straight so I don't look like The Hunchback of Notre Dame. I take a deep breath before reaching for the door handle.
I open the door, and before me stands a girl. She is about five feet and six inches tall. Her black hair is in a messy bun, and a pair of circular glasses rests neatly on her button nose. Her build is petite, which makes sense considering her height. She's dressed in black sweatpants and a gray hoodie—comfy. A sour expression sits on her face, complimenting her crossed arms.
"Hey." Her voice is soft, the complete opposite of what her face would have you believe.
"Good morning. You my new roomie?" I yawn. "That's a stupid question; who else would be knocking on my door at stupid o'clock in the morning? Come on in." I step aside and let her walk in before shutting the door behind her. "The first door on the left is your room. I didn't know if you'd have sheets, so I washed the ones already on there. The door on the right is the bathroom, and past that is the living room and kitchen. You can make yourself at home. My name's Nathaniel, but Nate works." I talk fast; my anxiety is killing me.
"My name's Nora." she flashes me a bright smile before her bitchy expression returns. "I'll look around for a bit, and then I'll get all my shit together." She walks off to explore the apartment. Not that there's much to explore; it's not very big.
I head back to my room, shutting the door behind me with a sigh. I flop down on my bed and stare up at the ceiling. Nora seems nice. I guess that mean expression is just how her face is; I've been told mine is similar. Right now, I could go for a joint to calm my nerves. Yet, I need to make a good impression today.
Screw it. I want a cigarette. I get up, groaning at my creaky back, and walk into the hallway. Nora is preoccupied with bringing her stuff up from her car.
"Need some help, Nora?" Being useful might help make this smoother.
"Nah, I'm good, Nate. Thanks for offering." The pile of boxes in her arms muffles her voice, and she looks like a cartoon character.
"Suit yourself then." I pick up my cigarettes from the kitchen table and walk out onto the porch. I open the pack, and I see that there are only two left. Fuck. I'll have to go out later. I take one out and put the carton in my pocket. I light it up and take a long, deep drag. I close my eyes as I inhale, letting the feeling wash over my body. I slowly exhale, my eyes opening with my mouth.
"Hey." A voice speaks behind me—Nora's voice. I turn around to meet her.
"What's up? Is everything okay?" I flash her a welcoming smile, but it feels weird, so I stop.
"Can I bum a cig? I forgot mine." Her sweet smile makes it hard to say no.
"Yeah, okay." I reach into my pocket, my finger searching for the carton. I pull it out and hand it to her. "Lucky you, you got the last one."
"Thanks," she lights it and takes a long drag. "It's not even noon, and it feels like today has gone on for eternity."
I nod slowly. We both take a puff in unison. I lean against the railing and sigh, glancing over at Nora. Her eyes are locked on the rigid cityscape.
"So, what's the catch? What do you do?" My cigarette muffles my voice.
"Hmm? Like my job, my education?" she takes another drag of her cigarette before her eyes fall to the parking lot below us. "I'm studying to be a nurse. I don't have a job yet; I need to settle in first."
"A nurse?" I take a moment to formulate my response. "I heard that's a tough thing to do."
She nods. "Yeah, it is. I've seen some pretty gross stuff. Someone has to do it, though, and it feels nice to help people." she pauses to hit her cig. "What about you? Are you in school?"
"Yeah, I'm studying history. I'm not sure what I want to do after that, but I know it's something I like." I turn to look at her. "It's not as cool as nursing or world-changing." I chuckle a little bit. I tap my cigarette, and a hunk of ash drops down off the porch.
"I suck at history; I almost failed it in high school." She giggles a sweet, soft giggle. "I guess everyone has their cup of tea."
"History has always clicked for me. I find it super interesting. I might rant about it for a few hours if you catch me in the right mood." I flick my cigarette off the porch. My hands rest on the railing, the sunlight starting to warm up.
"I'll keep that in mind." She takes one last drag before flicking the rest of the cigarette away.
"I better get back to moving my stuff in; I'm almost done." She sighs. "We should go for drinks later and get to know each other, you know what I mean?"
"Yeah, I'm down for that. There's a good place down the street." I rub my eyes and yawn.
"Someone's sleepy, I see." Nora giggles. Why don't you go nap so you have the energy to lift a drink?" She holds out her hand for a shake. I put my hand in hers, and we shake. Her hand is soft in mine, like silk. "Nice to meet you, Nate."
"Nice to meet you too, Nora."
We walk back inside.
