Thrills, Kills and Sunday Pills

Underaged Conversations

She was staring at me. She didn't look like she was happy with what she was seeing. She pointed at me and started yelling out to her friends. I pulled my hood over my face and flipped them off. I got up and moved into a rainier spot, then sat back down in a puddle. The girl giggled, like I was trying to amuse her. 

"Piss off," I said to her. 

"You're not meant to use those words at school," she said to me.

"Shut your face, smartass."

"I'll tell the teacher on you!" she said, and I think she was starting to cry as well. 

"You do that," I said. I can't be bothered with some 6-year-old's bullshit today. 

As I took another drag of my cigarette, the kid ran off. I could tell she was getting a teacher. If I had the effort or the morals, I would have gotten up and run off, but I was comfortable and I really didn't feel like ditching another cigarette. My real question was, however, would I get in trouble for smoking and minding my own business, or would a little 2nd grader like her get in trouble for being out in the rain?

After a few minutes I heard the oddly recognisable sound of high heels slipping on wet concrete. A teacher came out and saw me through the fence. My hoodie was tight and what was left of my face was being masked by a cloud of smoke, but the teacher screamed anyway.

"I see you there! Get out!" she screamed.

I flipped the teacher off and butt-scootched around and backed her. I heard her stamp her heel on the ground and I laughed. 

"Relax, love," I said dismissively. "That time of the month, is it?"

Blowing out another cloud of smoke to hide myself, I looked around and saw her face go bright red. She shooed the little girl away, as she asked what was happening this month. 

"Your teachers bleeding!" I yelled. "Ask your mother what menstrual means!"

"You've done it now, young man. That girl is 6 years old," she fumed. "What's your name?"

Now I'm pissed off. I get that she didn't know, and I was only wearing a uni-sex Foo Fighters hoodie and jeans that didn't really help to identify my gender, but she didn't need to jump to conclusions. 

"Right then, sir," I said. "Needless to worry about what would be such an unfortunate time if you were a woman, maybe you should take the rod out of your stuck up arse and leave me the hell alone."

"I only know one person who speaks like that," she said, taken aback. 

I'm hoping that person isn't me, but I'm wary. 

"Oh, yeah? Who would that be, darl?"

"Reef Withers?"

Shit.