Texting The Non-Smoker (m.c) -2-

0.2

[ Nicole ] - One Day Before

I should hurry to the school, but instead I take slow strides. The cigarette rested between my lips casually, my index and middle finger securely pressed against it so it doesn't fall like the last time.

"Hey! No smoking on school property!" The cross walk lady barked at me.

"It's not lit." I grumble, shooting her a glare.

I'm not stupid enough to light a cigarette in an elementary school. Instead of putting it away like usual, I leave it in my mouth. I'm the only one who picks up and drops off Jacob, so unless they want him to stay there twenty four seven, they shouldn't get on my back for having one unlit cigar.

I step into the elementary school, the smell of lemons and cleaning products fill my lungs as I took in a deep breath. Kids are practically screaming as I walk through the gym to find Jacob's aftercare person.

A guy with fiery red hair, green eyes, and an eyebrow piercing approaches me. I wouldn't have guessed he was an aftercare person until I saw his shirt that clearly write aftercare counselor on it.

"No cigarettes on or in the elementary school," he calmly tells me.

I glare at him. "It is not lit, so it shouldn't matter."

The guy closes his eyes slowly, obviously annoyed. "But it does matter, so put it away until you are off school property."

I think of so many curse words to yell at him but instead, I remove the cigar from my lips and shove it into my jacket's pocket.

"There." I snap, still glaring at the guy.

He smiles at me and hands me a clipboard. "Name?"

I raise an eyebrow at him. "Nicole..."

"No, who are you picking up?" The guy smirks.

"Jacob Thompson." I answer and find Jacob's name on the clipboard, sign my signature and then hand it back to the guy.

The guy slips a walkie-talkie from his pocket and presses a side button while keep eye contact with me. "I need Jacob Thompson to come to the gym, he's leaving now."

"Gotcha, Mikey. He's on his way." The voice replies.

"So, your names Michael?" I say, my eyebrows furrowed together.

"Actually, I just go by Mikey or Mike." The redhead answers me.

I nod and wait awkwardly beside the guy until I see my little brother enter through the double doors. I smile at him and ruffle his sandy blonde hair.

"Hey kiddo," I say to him.

He smiles at me and then looks at Michael, he waves goodbye to him and then we walk outside.

"How was school?" I ask Jacob as we walk past the crosswalk lady, who shoots me a glare.

"It was okay, I didn't move colors at all!" Jacob smiles, referring to a chart that his home room teacher has all the kids listed on. If they are good, they stay on green. If they're bad, they go to yellow as a warning, Jacob usually gets to yellow. Orange is when he has to tell you three or more times to stop whatever it is you're doing. And red is going to the principles office with a call to your parents or guardians.