Worse Than Nicotine

Chapter One

Deputy Gerard itched for a smoke. The office was in complete silence except for a faint buzzing of the lights, and if he opened the window, not the slightest smell of nicotine could be detected when the other guys come in the morning.

Slowly he reached into his pocket and pulled out a cheap cigarette. It was shit, but he was broke and addicted. The flickering flame of the lighter danced in his hazel brown pupils: he gazed into it, lost in thought for a moment.

The phone rang. A sharp, unnecessarily loud ringing that jerked Gerard awake from his dreams.

"Yes?" He managed to utter a word before clearing his throat and realizing he should've said more, "this is Belleville Police Station, may I help-"

"There was a, uh, car accident down on State Road 10."

Gerard grabbed his coat and rushed out the door, ignoring the pack of cigarettes spilling out onto the floor.

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"Ma'am, I'm gonna need you to sign this." Gerard said, holding out a pen. An hour had passed and he was back in the police station, wishing he had just ignored the call. 

A pale hand took the pen and started signing in sloppy, 2AM cursive.

"Wait a minute," Gerard looked up, realizing something horribly wrong,"you're not his mom."

The girl clicked the tip of the pen hard. "He's got in too much trouble that his mom doesn't even bother to come anymore, but," she gave Gerard a wink, "of course, nobody has to know."

Her voice was crisp for someone who just woke up and drove for an hour in the cold. Black hair in a ponytail, her eyes imperfectly lined, and a shockingly red lipstick color. Young enough to be the offender's...sister? There wasn't much Gerard could make out of her looks, but she was pretty.

"At least tell me your name." He stammered.

"Why? So you could tell on me to your officer?" the girl smiled. An I'm-so-fucking-tired-of-you-just-let-me-go-home-and-sleep smile.

"No, I, here, I'll go release your brother or...boyfriend, you can go home." Gerard got up, half-wishing the boy wasn't the latter one.

"The name's Lindsey," the girl finally said, "and he's just my brother."

"Good." 

"Good?"

"I mean, uh, I'm Gerard." What the fuck, Gerard thought, out of all the ways I could've responded, I sayid "good"? 

"Good night, Mr. Deputy." Lindsey put an unoticible smirk on her face before walking out into the cold with her brother, not boyfriend, beside her.

A good night indeed. Gerard put his feet up on the desk, and lit up that long-waited cigarette.