Friday
The air was stuffy. Her palms were sweating. Her throat was dry, but not from thirst. She finished her drink anyway. She scratched the patch stuck to her upper arm. It didn’t work anymore. She needed a cigarette.
She exited the club as soon as her shift ended. It was cold outside. The wind blew from the river below, pushed against the ancient walls of the fortress. She closed her coat tighter around her and walked along the wall some distance away from the entrance. She leaned against the naked brick and fished a pack out of her purse.
She had only three cigarettes left. She swore and pulled one out. She was already over her limit of ten a day. Her lighter wouldn’t start. The wind kept putting the flame out.
“Shit,” she spat and spun towards the wall.
She tried to make a shelter for the lighter to catch. Her long, reddish-blonde hair blew around her face. She thought she might light herself on fire. Something clicked next to her. She saw a flame from the corner of her eye.
“I’ll give you a light if you give me a smoke,” a deep, male voice said.
She turned because of the flame, not the voice. She nodded, brought the cigarette trapped between her lips to the fire. Smoke filled her lungs; she closed her eyes and kept it in for a couple of seconds. Her hand rose and offered the pack to the figure in front of her. She felt the light touch of a hand against hers before it retreated.
She leaned back against the wall. He lit his cigarette and did the same. They smoked in silence for a while.
“I’m trying to quit,” she said for some reason. Maybe to ease her guilt.
“Me too,” he said.
“You’re smarter than me. You didn’t bring a pack with you.”
She could hear the ember eat the cigarette paper with his long drag.
“I bum smokes from people who are trying to quit,” he said.
She cracked a smile.
“A doo-gooder,” she said.
“A nuisance,” he responded.
She flicked off the ash. Aimed her gaze at the ground. He wore classic, white and blue Asics and blue jeans. She still didn’t know how he looked. She didn’t care. She was bad with faces anyway. He threw the butt down, put it out with his foot. He smoked faster than her.
“Thanks,” he said.
“Don’t thank me,” she said.
His breath rushed out as if he wanted to laugh.
“Yeah,” he said and left.
