Spiorad

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

I woke up to the smell of smoke. Not, oh-my-goodness-someone’s-burning-my-house-down smoke, more like some-idiot-is-in-my-room-giving-me-cancer-with-his-cigarette smoke.

I rolled over and saw Demyan on the bed next to me, huffing and puffing at his cancer stick. I had no idea spirits could even smoke. Did their lungs even work? I decided I’d ask. “What in the world are you doing? You’re going to kill me with second hand smoke! I mean, can spirits even smoke?”

He sighed, blowing smoke in my direction. Apparently, he did have working lungs. Although, seeing as how he was talking I should have already known his lungs worked. “See, there you go again. Discriminating on the already dead. Look, I took a battle axe to the neck, so could you maybe let me enjoy my death with a smoke?” he asked dramatically.

“You were killed by a battle axe?” I asked, both intrigued and horrified.

Demyan just laughed at me. I saw tears streaming out of his eyes. “Oh my goodness, you believed me! No, I didn’t die from a battle axe injury,” he said, still laughing. I glared at him.

“You know, it’s not nice to lie to people. Besides, why wouldn’t I believe you?” I asked him hotly.

He stopped his laughing long enough to say, “I know it’s not nice but it sure is funny. You should believe me. I never lie. Well, almost never. Hardly any, really.”

I just laughed at his meager attempts to convince me of his honesty. I was definitely not falling for it. He was a scoundrel, I could already tell. “You’re lying now, saying you don’t ever lie. Oh, the irony. You’re pretty funny, you know that?” I asked him.

Demyan just gave me a look. “Of course I know that. Besides, I am not merely ‘pretty funny’. I am gut-wrenching, tears streaming, no breathing hilarious. Thank you very much. You can call me the King of Funny. I wouldn’t reject that title. I actually think it’s quite fitting.”

I laughed at his faux-haughty expression and said, “I am not calling you the King of Funny. If you want a nickname it’s gonna be Smokey. Get it? Because you smoke and you look like smoke? Goodness, I’m pretty funny too. Maybe I’m the Queen of Funny.” I winked at him, and smirked at his horrified expression.

“Did you just say I looked like smoke? We are no longer friends. Don’t talk to me. I’m just gonna float my smokey self over into this corner and lie in misery. You are a mean person,” he told me, whilst pouting.

I shook my head at him, getting out of bed to get ready to go school. “Hey, Smokey, I’m going to get ready. Stay here,” I told him, chuckling when he glared at my use of his new nickname.

I went into the bathroom and took a quick shower. I quickly brushed both my teeth and hair. I put on my oversized sweater, dark jeans, and brown boots. I didn’t bother trying to do anything with my hair, it was unmanageable. I put on one swipe of waterproof mascara and light lip gloss and I was done.

I didn’t like wearing a lot of makeup, and I couldn’t wear anything that wasn’t waterproof on my eyes. I had this tendency to cry when I started laughing. When that happened I looked like someone out of a horror movie.

I made my way back into my room and found Demyan going through my song book. “Smokey, what have I told you about this. Don’t touch my stuff!” I made a feeble jump to grab it from him but this time he wouldn’t give it back.

With a determined look on his face he said, “Don’t call me Smokey. If you promise to stop using that nickname I’ll give it back to you.”

I sighed and thought about it for a minute. I really wanted my songbook back, and knew he wouldn’t return it without my compliance. “Ah, fine! Demy, can I please have my songbook back?”