Vanilla & Smoke || A.I.

Jet.

Jet
/jet/
noun
1. a compact black coal, susceptible of a high polish, used for making beads, jewelry, buttons, etc.
2. a deep black.

~~~

"Wake up."

"Fuck off."

The door was wide open, a small figure leaning against it tiredly. "Mom says you're late for school."

"There's school today?"

The small figure nodded, lips pursed. "She says to tell you to get your something up before she kicks your something."

Rolling over, Thora rubbed her eyes, her mind working to process the words. "My... something... my... ass?"

The innocent voice spoke back quietly, a hand covered her mouth. "Don't say that word. You're not an adult."

"I'm an adult, I'm 18. I can do what I want, you can tell that to mom."

The little figure shrugged. "Fine. I just needed to get you up."

The small girl- either or , Thora couldn't tell so early in the morning- turned, and left, not closing the door behind her.

"Close the door!"

No response.

Groaning, Thora pulled herself to her feet, shivering at the cold. As usual, she slept only in her black underwear- she literally only owned black underwear.

It took a long time to go through her morning routine- shower, braid, makeup, clothes. Longer today because of her hands, which were stained dark blue from the paint. Her bag with her paints was hidden at the back of her closet, where it always lay under a pile of ill fitting clothes and junk.

Her mom was probably outraged- after all, she paid good money for Thora to go to a private school- so Thora avoided her, sneaking out the back door and letting it slam behind her. Her way of saying 'I'm up.'

Surprisingly, when Thora got to Calum's house he was already up, digging around the kitchen cabinets for something that resembled food.

"Good to see you're making me food," she commented blandly, sitting on the kitchen counter.

Introductions weren't really necessary with them anymore.

"Nope. There's no good food." He stood and turned around, freezing when he saw what she was wearing. "I don't get you. You wear your uniform even when it's obvious we're not going today."

It was true. She always wore her school uniform on school days, even when they weren't going. Just habit.

Of course, she had different plans for today.

"I was actually thinking... well, if we leave now, we'll get there in time for third period."

Calum had been rummaging through the kitchen cupboards, but now he stopped, processing her words. "You're kidding me. Irwin's class?"

"I mean, I don't want to skip every day. It's not... that bad."

He snorted. "That's a lie. It's English. It's horrible."

Thora wasn't quite sure what to do, so she pulled out his lipstick from her jacket pocket and started replying the jet black hue, a nervous habit. "Mr.Irwin isn't as bad as the substitutes. And I don't want to fail."

In truth, it was much more than that, but Thora really didn't know why it mattered- why she was just drawn to this teacher. Yes, he was a good teacher, but that was only important to someone who thought school was important- which didn't really fit with Thora's persona.

Then what could it be?

Maybe... just maybe, it could have to do with the fact that Mr.Irwin was... well... he was pretty fit. Not nearly as handsome as Calum, but somehow he managed to run a comb through his short, wavy hair every morning, and button his own shirt and everything. Thora hadn't been looking, but she had noticed he didn't have a wedding ring on.

Obviously, that wasn't it. Romantic attraction wasn't exactly Thora's thing, what with being asexual. And besides, it she was to be attracted to anyone romantically, obviously it'd be Calum- he was the hottest person she knew, and he was everything she aspired to be. Mr.Irwin was just some man, an actual, adult man, probably in his thirties, who yelled at her when she didn't show up to class.

So why was she so insistent on showing up to English class- his class?

Calum saw the look on her face and deciphered it instantly. "I'll go get dressed. We're grabbing breakfast burritos on the way, and you're paying."

"Deal."