Benefits With My Teacher

BWMT- 21

21

Katy Perry’s Peacock blasted through the large speakers of the mansion where the after party of the wedding was held where alcohol was invited and kids like Payton were at their homes sitting and watching cartoons with a babysitter since it was so obvious Shawn didn’t want to leave his just newly wed wife in an after party with alcohol.

I was on my third shot of vodka as I strolled out of the house with the pair of heels hanging from my fingers and to the backyard of the large mansion. Peacock’s lyrics were barely audible through the cheers of the people and through the concrete walls. I took a large intake of oxygen, breathing fresh air after hours of being inside an air conditioned room.

Fresh air my ass. Cigarette smoke instantly filled my nostrils making me blow my nose in disgust. I hated cigarettes from the very beginning since it was the major cause of my grandfather dying. I turned my head around; I search for the cancer stick smoker. Smoke was coming out from behind a very pretty plant.

As I neared it, a familiar figure stood in front of me, blowing rings of smoke into the air, polluting it. His tie was loose as it hung on the collar of his neck, his shirt pulled up from his pants, no longer tucked in it with a few buttons opened and the jacket of his suit was now unbuttoned.

“You smoke?” I managed to choke out from the smoke around me while my scrunched up in repulsion.

“What? Oh, yeah.” He nodded at me, taking a huge puff from his cigarette stick.

“Since when?”

“Two or three years ago but I just do it on an occasional basis.” He shrugged.

“No wonder.” I rolled my eyes at him, taking a seat on the wooden bench beside the plant.

“No wonder what?” he queries, looking down at me.

“I kept on tasting that same bitter taste every time we kiss.” I muttered, looking down at my shot glass, my mood for drinking it now gone. “It’s gross you know.”

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, taking a seat beside me. “It’s just that you never said anything.”

“I thought it was something I always ate that contradicted with the food you just ate making a bitter taste.” I looked up from the shot glass and face him.

“Sorry.”

“Want some?” I raised up my shot glass and thrusted it to him.

“No thanks.” He shook his head at me. “I would offer you a stick but it seems like you don’t like it.”

I looked down and started to think before I spoke up. “I want to try one, although it’s utterly disgusting and gross but still, can I try? You were going to offer me a stick anyway so why not?”

“I don’t know.” He hesitates before looking at me, his hand nearing his pocket where his cancer sticks were stored, maybe.

“C’mon! Please?”

“I don’t think I should be giving my student a cigarette.”

“Please? It’s just to try but I actually doubt I will like it.”

He sighed. My guess was right. The pocket where his hand was nearing was his stick storage. He took a lighter from the other pocket. He handed it to me as he stepped on the cigarette butt he threw on the ground. Lighting up the stick, I took a sharp intake of air.

“Aren’t you going to smoke with me?” I asked, placing the stick in between my finger tips.

“I still doubt you’re going to finish it so instead of throwing a newly lit stick, just give it to me when you decide to stop.” He shrugged, waiting for me to smoke it.