Mind and Matter

38 | Leo

I hadn't thought about cigarettes in a while.

It was as though my mind had disconnected that part of my life from the reality I lived in now. But sitting in my psychology class and listening to Mrs. Hill veer off topic to the concept of addiction had my mind flooded with thoughts. Most of the clutter in my head were withdrawal memories, as well disgust at my former self. But as she lectured about GABA receptors and dopamine, a small part of me felt that familiar urge to smoke and that painfully short-lived high of nicotine.

No, I can't.

I placed my face into my hands and slid my elbows across my desk, slumping farther down. I tried to remember the reasons why I'd started smoking in the first place. Other than that dumb kid, Bryson, who'd offered me my first cigarette, most of the other motivators simply weren't relevant anymore. I felt so lonely back then and now I was surrounded by people I actually liked. I used to go in and out of fleeting relationships, and now I had someone I loved.

Emerson. Her little reasons to not smoke—the ones I found cheesy at first—came to mind when I looked at her on the other side of the classroom. I couldn't let her down when she'd been the first to care about my problems, without even knowing me at all.

"Hey, you okay?" Someone poked my shoulder and my head flew upwards. I glanced to the left and found Santiago sitting at the desk next to me. He hadn't been to school in nearly two weeks.

"Dude, I didn't even see you come in," I told him, a smile spreading across my face at the sight of him. He looked less worn-out; though, I knew what he went through would leave an indelible mark. "I didn't know you were coming back."

"I was only going to come today to pick up my missed work, but I realized not coming would only mean more missed work," he said, opening his notebook and glancing at the board before shutting it. "Not like I was going to do much of it."

While we began to joke in the back of the classroom—trying to keep our voices down so Mrs. Hill wouldn't look our way—that urge to smoke slowly began to dissipate back to a past memory.

When the school day ended, I was surprised the weather was oddly beginning to warm up. The sun shone through the trees and invited more students to hang out outside at end of the day as they waited for their rides.

I hadn't talked with Emerson much today, and I knew that she usually picked up her brother in the afternoons, so I was heading home myself. That was until I spotted Franco around ten feet away.

Seeing him brought back all of Emerson's ire from that time I'd fought him. The thought of being in any way civil around him absolutely killed my ego, and maybe there was no point in it, considering we were graduating soon.

Who cares if I were still an asshole to him if I'd never see him again?

But I knew that somewhere inside of me I was less petty than that. So I dragged my boots across the snowless grass and made it to where he was standing with his phone. He glanced up and his expression fell, his eyes narrowing.