boundless

caramel

The next time I ran into Kate was surprisingly on Saturday, at Chris' party. She said that she came with a friend who somehow had connections with Chris. That didn't surprise me; Chris might have been a bit of a wreck, but he was a very charismatic guy.

We sat across from each other at a small table, chatting. She had made herself coffee, which I thought was odd.

"You know it's nine o'clock in the afternoon," I said, motioning to her coffee as I pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

Her eyes darted from my face to the pack of cigarettes in my hand. "Yes, and it's also 2014, and you're going to smoke indoors?" She retorted.

"I guess you don't spend much time with Chris, then?" I smirked as I lit the cigarette up, and took a drag.

"Oh, I've never even met Chris." She laughed slightly as she took another sip of her drink.

The events of the other night suddenly came back to my mind. "So, where were you off to the other night when I saw you in the hall?" I asked casually.

Her face became slightly flushed at the memory. "I was just going out."

I shrugged as I left the cancer stick between my lips, and just looked at her. She looked simply astonishing. I wished that she would take the cigarette from between my teeth, throw it on the ground, then press her lips to mine, but she didn't.

Instead, she said, "So, how can I meet the legendary Chris?"

I shrugged. "By the end of the night, he will probably be too drugged up to remember anything or anyone, so it's probably no use."

She rolled her eyes at me. "He can't be that bad."

"The last time I came to one of his parties, he was shooting heroin," I said.

She raised her eyebrows, skeptically. "Then why are we here?"

I smiled as I took the cigarette away from my lips. "Darling, there's nothing better to do." Yes, that was a very pretentious thing to say to a person whom I just met, and might not understand that I was joking.

She shook her head, and although she obviously knew it was a joke, she took it seriously. "Sorry, but that's bullshit," she stood up with her coffee,"Come on. Let's go do something else."

I got up and followed her to the door, smiling. "So, what do you do for a living?" I asked as I reached across her chest to grab my coat from the rack.

"I own a bookstore on twenty-seventh and eighth," She said as she grabbed her own coat, and we stepped outside. "What do you do?"

"I used to work in marketing at a company that sells office supplies, but then I quit," I answered.

"Why did you quit?" She questioned.

I looked at her. She looked legitimately interested. "I want to be a playwright."

She started walking down the street, and I followed blindly. "You don't look like the type that writes plays. You look more like a director."

I shrugged as I threw my coat over my shoulder. I didn't exactly know what she meant by that. "I appreciate theatre more than movies." I flicked the butt of my cigarette into the street. "Where are we going?"

She looked back at me. The street lights made her eyes appear to be a pleasant caramel color. She smiled at me. This was a smile that I hadn't seen on her before. It was almost mischievous. "You'll see."