Maroon Socks

08: HOODIES AND BATHROOMS

"Hi," Brooke says. "You're not coming down with a cold?"

"No."

"You okay?" Brooke asks, brining her knees to her chest. She turns her head to look at him.

Arthur exhales deeply. He nods his head. "I will be."

"You're okay."

Arthur laughs. "I will be. Tough life comes to bite at you, sometimes, you know?"

"I -"

"- You wouldn't. How could you? You have a great life, I expect," Arthur mutters, only for them to hear. Brooke wants to argue. She wants to tell him that her life isn't great. That she hides herself from her parents because she doesn't want to disappoint. Brooke doesn't want to disappoint her parents or Mariam.

"I understand. Just maybe not in the same way. . . . . ." The pause is there for too long. Long enough for all of them, except the ones at the front, to fall asleep.

"Can I smoke in here?" Brooke asks, already fiddling with her handbag.

Arthur looks over at her, sighing, "I don't think you should."

"But can I?"

"If you want to. . "

Brooke covers her cigarette with her hand, as she lights it. She takes a puff, sighing in relief at the taste of it. Arthur isn't in the mood of telling people off. He wants to tell her no but he cannot bring himself to do so. The best he can do is: "I heard that sometimes people die from smoking. . ."

Brooke laughs, her laugh bubbling out the toxic gas from her mouth. She brings it to her lips again, taking another inhale. Blowing it out, she replies, "Yeah, I've heard it as well."

"You know, the packets have it as well," Arthur adds.

"I am aware, I look at it first thing when I buy a pack," Brooke says, an amused smile present.

"It's usually there to stop people," Arthur continues, hoping to send her the message in a very subtle manner.

"I figured that out the first time I bought one," Brooke mumbles, her words as bitter as the poisonous stick in-between her fingers. "Do you want one?"

"What?" Arthur splutters in disbelief. "Here I'm telling you not to smoke, and you're saying the complete opposite!"

"Oh, the complete opposite? You couldn't have," Brooke feigns shock, gasping to put emphasis. "Look, Bradley, do you want it or not?"

Arthur contemplates. He despises the idea of smoking in general. Taking one from a person who smokes seems like a acceptable decision to him, giving everything that's going on. "He leans over, grabbing a new one out of her hand. He rolls down his window, while Brooke leans over to light his cigarette. He turns his head the slightest bit, giving Brooke less than a second to light his. Pulling out the ash tray, Brooke taps her cigarette against the edge. Arthur takes a large breath from his, blowing it out.

"Oh, fuck!" Arthur swears, coughing out the smoke.

Brooke laughs, taking away his cigarette, she crushes his into the ash tray, shaking her head. "It isn't your thing, Arthur."

"Good," Arthur proudly says.

Brooke's silent for the next few moments. "I just need it." Arthur doesn't know what to make from that statement. He debates the mass uses for cigarettes. Brooke's probably the one who smokes because of peer pressure. Arthur can see it from her look. She's always wearing black or nude coloured clothing - not as in that should mean anything. He sees the way she is free. Maybe this is one corner of her get away.