Smoked Success

3.

"Wait let me clear stuff up." I clear my throat. "This is Christian, my boyfriend. Christian, this is Smith, John's son. John is a person I met at the airport."

Please don't get pissed, please don't get pissed.

"Yeah, okay." They both say without bothering to look at each other.

"Bye Smith, bye John!" I wave at both of them, walking behind Christian.

I still feel hyped thanks to meeting Christian. Christian puts my bags in the back of his car. I sit in the passenger's seat, the one next to the driver.

"Your ass felt rounder during that hug." He remarks, smirking.

"Says the dude who got guns." I say. And by guns, I mean biceps and triceps.

"I'm so happy you're finally back. You have no idea how boring it was without you around. It felt so empty." He states, looking at the road. "Anyways, what are your plans for today?"

Wow wow wow, I just arrived and he's already asking. I'll improvise something.

"Well, I haven't slept for over 48 hours now, so I'll probably take a two hour nap. After that, I'll probably unpack, then wait for you to come back. I was planning on meeting Tyler but he probably is busy." I answer him.

"It must've been horrible, you waiting for the airplane for 8 hours. Those could've let us meet yesterday." He points out.

"Yeah, but they weren't that awful, like they made me sort of bored yes, but they gave me time to read half a book and discuss life with John." I tell him.

And sadly, I check my phone for new emails, refusal by St. John's University, Columbia University, Fordham University and another one. Yay life.

"What's wrong with your phone?" Christian asks, still focused. "You look as if you've seen a ghost or something."

"It's nothing, just me getting refused as usual." I shrug, pretending I don't care.

"Look, we will work this out, we can do this. We shouldn't give up." He tries to motivate me.

I don't say anything, not wanting to cause any fights on our first day. I really want to smoke, but I have to wait till we arrive at his house. Ugh man, my packets aren't even in my purse.

"Two more minutes and we arrive." Christian announces.

The thing is, I didn't tell him I still smoke. Whenever he video called me, I never had a cigarette. He probably thinks I've stopped, fuck. I'll just stare at the window for the next two minutes.

"We're here." He says, parking the car.

As the car stops, we both lean in for a kiss. Our first kiss since two years ago, you don't know how much that means to me. I miss this, I'm glad we're back at it. I have noticed a grocery store at the back, I'll probably get cigarettes from there.

"Would you excuse me for two minutes?" I ask, hoping he doesn't notice.

"What for?" He asks, knotting his eyebrows.

"I need to buy something, you can go upstairs, second floor right?" I say in a rush, hoping this seems as opaque as possible.

"Yeah, the door will be open." He says, clenching his jaw.

"See you later." I say.

He leans in for a kiss so do I.

"See you later." He smiles at me.

I walk to the grocery store as fast as possible, hoping Christian doesn't notice my fear of him finding out. I hope he doesn't really, because I'm sure as fuck he'd be so sad and would give me a lecture about how hurting myself hurts other people. As I get in, the store seems so tiny. I go to the counter, where an african-american woman, whose age isn't less than 40 years, stared at me.

"Good afternoon," I start, hoping not to sound anxious "may I have 5 packets of cigarettes?"

"How old are you?" She asks. "Oh, and I'll need proof."

Frick, I don't have an ID in here. The only thing I can show her is my passport, or my UK driving license.

passport, Jessica, don't be dumb; sub conscience reminds me.

"Sure." I say, trying to sound as confident as possible. I get my passport out and show her my birth date.

"Don't seem so British for me." She says, raising her eyebrows. "I hope this isn't fabricated, you owe me 15 dollars."

Fuck, I don't have dollars. Let's hope she has visa.

"Can I, er, pay by visa?" I ask, hopeful.

"Cash only ma'am." She snaps.

"Can I pay by Sterling Pound?" This sounded so much better in my head.

"Are you fucking with me over here, give me real money or else no cigarettes." She shouts at me.

"For god's bloody sake, can you at least be a little patient?" I glare at her, full of anger.

"Clarice, is everything okay over here?" I hear a familiar voice saying that.