Fragments

0.9

0.9

            His eyes are so dark they’re almost black. I can’t decide what colour they are until I’m standing right in front of them, and I see that they’re blue. The blackest of blues.

            “I like your sweater,” he says.

            I ask myself what I’m doing here.

            “It’s not mine.” I tug at one of the sleeves.

            “Boyfriend’s?”

            “Don’t have one,” I admit.

            He smirks and takes another drag of his cigarette, looking down at me knowingly. “What are you, fourteen?”

            I tilt my chin up and stare into his eyes. “Seventeen.”

            “Ah,” he sighs, flicking away some ashes onto the pavement. “Almost legal.

            “Almost.”

            He leans back against the peeling railing that leads into the black door. “So what are you doing here?”

            I’m still wondering the same thing.

            “I could say the same to you,” I reply.

            He smiles, but it’s still smug, and throws away his cigarette. Before responding, he pulls a pack out of his jeans and tilts it towards me. I shake my head. “Against smoking?”

            “No, I just don’t do it myself.”

            He raises his eyebrows and pulls one out before returning the pack to his jeans. “Don’t mind it?”

            “Don’t have an opinion,” I shrug.

            He grins before placing the smoke between his lips. He lights it up and inhales. As he speaks, puffs of smoke pass between us. “I like girls who don’t have opinions.”

            “You didn’t answer my question.”

            He rolls his head back towards the sky and blows out the remaining amount of smoke. For a moment I wonder if Adam’s come back for me, and hope that he would call my name if he did.

            “Doing a gig, waiting for the rest of the band to head out.”

            “What do you play?”

            “Drums.”