cigarette daydreams

/6

It was midnight. Karden only knew because his mom had shouted at him to turn out the lights just a few minutes before he had slipped out his window and into the snowy night. She would kill him if she found out.

Why he was risking his own well-being just to meet with a crazy girl from seventy five percent of his classes was beyond him. All he knew was that he was doing it, and that was how it was going to work.

The snow muffled everything around him. The street-lamps seemed dimmer, footsteps were softer, breath was visible. Karden loved winter, even if it meant he couldn't play any of his sports outside anymore. The small town of Ayers, Maine, was very pretty in the winter.

Karden wasn't afraid to admit he liked pretty things.

Scratch that - he wasn't afraid to, with one small exception.

Lydi Stern was pretty.

He would never tell.

She was standing right where she said she would be: smack dab in the center of Jasper Bridge. She wasn't wearing more than she ever did - a sweater, jeans, Converses. He could see her lipstick in the street-lamps.

He trudged through the snow drifts to come up next to her. He stood there for a moment, then said, "Well, I'm here."

"Good."

"Aren't you going to show me that life means something?"

She gave him an odd look. "No."

Karden paused, then shook his head. "Wait, what?"

"I can't show you that life means something. It's something you have to learn."

"I don't do that learning thing very well."

"Don't lie. I don't care if you're a jock. You've got a ninety-two average. You can learn." She gave him a quick once over. "You're nervous."

"Just because I'm shivering doesn't mean I'm nervous. Seriously, Lydi, it's like minus thirty out right now. Aren't you cold?"

"No."

Karden rolled his eyes. "Great. Just . . . great. Look, if we're done here, I'm going home."

"We're not."

Karden turned back around - he had already started to leave. Lydi was staring at him with wide eyes. Her mouth quirked. "Just because I can't show you something doesn't mean I can't teach you something."

"Then . . . teach me." He shrugged. "Do whatever."

She stepped closer, then reached into her pocket and pulled out a cigarette. She took his hand, giant compared to hers, and placed it in the palm. Then she got one for herself and pulled out a lighter. She gestured for him to put his in his mouth.

He did so warily. She lit it, then she lit hers.

"Cigarette daydreams."

Another thing Karden was at a loss about. "What are you talking about?"

"We will speak in cigarette daydreams. Because that's when things are clearest, even when they feel the foggiest."

"Is that a metaphor? Am I missing something?"

"Everyone is."

Karden narrowed his eyes at her, then took a long drag and walked to the edge of the bridge. "Fine."

She followed, and they looked on the slow river. They were silent for a moment, then she said, "Prove to me that life is meaningless."

"Why?"

"Because once you see what meaningless really is, you'll have to learn that life really isn't meaningless."

A series of burning memories soared to the forefront of Karden's mind, and he shook his head, angry that he had let himself think of them. He tossed his cigarette into the waters below. He glared at Lydi. "You don't understand anything, Lydi. Stop being vague, stop bullshitting."

Her brow creased, like she was annoyed. "I'm not being vague if you listen the right way."

"That's exactly what I mean!" Karden exclaimed. He glanced back down at the icy river, then back at the girl. Then he turned and stalked off.

"I'll be here tomorrow," she called after him.

"I won't."

And if that was the truth, he didn't know. He kept walking.

Behind him, a second cigarette hit the waters, untouched.

Lydi walked home.