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My worn out tennis shoes were slapping against cold hard pavement. Walking outside, off school property. I needed a smoke.
I passed most of the smokers to the back wall of coffee time, but everyone calls it crack time-mostly because of all the drug deals that happen there.
I sat down on the cool concrete, with my back against the wall.
Chatter was among all the other smokers. Laughter. Smiling. Happiness. I don't even know what that's like. I can't remember the last time I experienced that.
I lit my smoke, with my purple and blue lighter.
I love cigarettes. Love them. I think the more positive approach you have to smoking, the less harmful it is.
Something kicked my shoe. Or should I say someone.
I looked at the persons shoes; big, black combat boots.
I looked to meet the persons green eyes. Derek. What's he doing out here? But more importantly, what he doing near me?
"hey," he mumbled. He took a cigarette from behind his ear and looked to me. "can I borrow a light"?
I nodded and stood, taking my lighter out from my pocket.
He held out a callused palm, waiting for the lighter. I couldn't trust him with my lighter. What if he doesn't give it back?
I shook my head, making him tilt his head to the left in confusion.
I held up the lighter, and he held up his cigarette, I lit it with the orange and blue flames.
"thanks," he mumbled looking away. I sat back down putting my lighter away.
I took the time to actually look at him. Pale skin that looked as hard as stone. Bright green eyes surrounded with thick dark lashes any girl would kill for. Broad shoulders, built. Wearing a black leather jacket covering a white v-neck. Yes, he looked beautiful.
His pale pink lips slowly blowing out smoke.
He caught me staring and smirked.
Derek cleared his throat, sitting down next to me.
"so, Rory, right," he asked
"yes," I whispered softly.
He looked among the parking lot, staring at all the others.
I put my cigarette back up to meet my lips.
"you don't talk much do you"?
"I guess not," I mumbled, embarrassed.
He nodded, he looked to be in deep thought.
"I knew someone who wore the same boots as you," I whispered. Damn, I didn't mean for that to come out.
"really? I've had these old things for years" he said softly, almost delicately. "do you want to go grab some lunch"? He asked, hesitantly.
"I don't know..."
"come on, don't worry if you don't have money, I can share" he smiled.
I just stared at him in shock. Nobody ever has talked to me like this, like just a regular person. "are-are you sure"?
"yes. Come on now, I don't bite" he said standing up, throwing the bud of his cigarette to the ground, "well only if you want me to," he wiggled his eyebrows.
I rolled my eyes standing up, stepping on my cigarette. "fine" I told him.
I followed him into the fish and chip place, right beside crack time.
YOU ARE READING
Broken Cigarettes
Romancei'm not good with summary's or whatever this is supposed to be, but i'll give it a try. Rory is a girl who had to grow up fast. too fast. experienced things no little girl should live through. she learned everything is better if you are alone...