Contingency- [H.S]

II

~S o f i a   O l i v e r i a~

It is said that humans are creatures of habit. You spend enough time doing the same thing over and over and you start to perfect it.

Even sadness.

It doesn't happen all at once; first, the dark rain cloud makes its appearance every so often, teasing you with the idea of a downpour but never releasing its wrath. You start to get used to it. The waiting. The waiting for the inevitable torrential rain that will soak you through. But, in not coming when you expect it to, the idea of it dissipates until you figure out that you are not going to melt like the wicked witch of the West when it does start to drizzle.

Depression is much the same. It lingers around for so long that when it eventually does catch up to you, it feels like an old friend giving you a warm hug.

Except that hug robs you of the ability to see a way out of the dark hole you've fallen down.

I've perfected the art of sadness as if it were a melody to learn on the piano or a poem to recite at an open mic night.

I've perfected sadness because I have become sadness.

As I sit on the roof of the dorm buildings with Ezzie next to me, I reach for the carton of cigarettes that I know she keeps in the front of her hoodie.

"Oi!" She scolds, batting my hand to get me to release them.

"Fuck off and gimme one," I mutter back while holding my hand out flat awaiting the cancerous stick.

"I thought you said you were quitting?"

I shrug, turning to look back out to the skyline of the city that is only just waking up and coming to life for the night. "Yeah well, I quit on quitting. Are you going to give me a smoke or not?"

"Maybe I should be responsible and tell you no."

"Ez, we both know that you are not the responsible one out of the two of us."

"What? And you are, Sof?" She smugly asks. "Neither one of us is exactly the poster child for good behaviour."

I smile out at the skyscrapers. That smile only widens when a hand rounds the front of my face with a cigarette perched between two of her fingers.

"Here." I part my lips, letting Ez place the cigarette between them while her other hand reaches up with a lighter. Her thumb working the flint to spark a flame and in turn the end of the cigarette.

The second that it is lit, I am sucking in a sharp inhale and letting the thick smoke valley down my throat to ruminate in my lungs.

"Want some?"

"Yeah. Pass it here." Handing Ezra the cigarette, I blow the smoke from the side of my mouth and let a cloud of grey decorate the sky for mere seconds.

We sit in silence, passing the cigarette back and forth with a muted understanding that we are spending quality time together.

In the month and a half that we have been here in New York, Ezra and I have become dependent on one another. She is my closest friend and I am her's.

There is an understanding between us that we are there for each other no matter what. No matter the circumstances, I would be there if she called.

We clicked straight away. From the second that Harry went chasing after my idiot brother on moving-in day and we were left alone, we dove into messing around with each other.

"Do you think this was fate or something?" Ez asks softly, bending her neck to rest her head against my shoulder.

"Fate?" I repeat back to her, the idea of that seeming far off to me.