The Worst Hiding Spot
I met Mia Graves because I was stupid enough to smoke behind the science building.
Definitely not my smartest decision
It wasn’t even a good hiding place. That’s the worst part. If I’d been caught at least somewhere clever, I could actually respect myself. But I was standing near the vending machines, close enough that any teacher with working eyes could ruin my week
Still, I wanted a smoke. So there I was.
Blazer open. Bag on one shoulder. One hand cooped around a lighter that refused to work because the air was damp.
*Click*
Nothing.
*Click*
Still nothing.
“Come on…”
*Click*
Finally, the flame caught.
I leaned in, lit my cigarette, and took the first drag like I’d been waiting all day.
The smoke hit my chest warm and rough. I held it there for a second, then breathed out toward the wall.
Better.
That was the annoying thing about smoking. It actually worked. Not properly, but at least for a few minutes, it made everything easier.
The bell rang, which meant that lunch had started. People started shouting like they hadn’t eaten in years. Seriously, what is wrong with these people…? Running to the canteen like it’s their final day.
I checked my phone.
My friend, Ren, had sent me a picture of his lunch.
(Ren): this looks like dog food 😭
I replied:
(Me): perfect for you then
…
(Ren): fuck you man..
I smiled a little and put my phone away.
Then the side door opened.
I froze.
Cigarette still between my fingers and smoke coming out of my mouth.
I’m fucked.
A girl stepped outside. For half a second, my brain thought that I could pretend the cigarette wasn’t there. Like if I stood still, she’d mistake it for a pencil or something..
She didn’t though.
She looked at my hands.
Then at me.
Then back at my hands.
I lowered my hand slowly, which probably made it even worse.
She had black hair cut just above her shoulders, dark eyeliner, a loose tie and black nails chipped at the edges. Her blazer looked like she was forced to wear it. She had a pair of headphones hanging around her neck and a chain swung from the side of her skirt.
She looked like the exact person that a teacher would pick on.
Which should’ve made me feel better.
But it didn’t.
Because she was still staring at me.
I cleared my throat. “You didn’t see that.”
“That?” She blinked.
“The cigarette.”
“What cigarette?”
I stared at her.
She stared back.
“You’re terrible at this.”
I looked down… “Are you gonna tell someone?”
“Tell who?”
“I dunno. A teacher?”
She tilted her head slightly. “Do I look like that kind of person?”
“That’s a trick question…”
“It isn’t.”
I glanced around checking my surroundings, and no one was around. Yet anyway.
“Look, I’ll put it out.”
I hated how quickly I said that. It looks like I’m begging for her not to snitch. Which I guess I kind of am. My parents would kill me.
The girl stared at me, and then the cigarette.
“You don’t have to”
“Huh? I don’t?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not here to save your lungs.”
That should’ve been reassuring but…
It wasn’t.
She walked past me. For a second, I thought she was leaving but then she turned around the corner behind the storage shed and disappeared.
I stayed where I was, still holding my cig like an idiot.
Then her voice came from around the corner.
“If you’re going to smoke, at least don’t stand where literally everyone can see you.”
Annoyingly, she had a point.
And so, nervously, I followed her.
Behind the storage shed was a narrow gap between the building and the fence. It was hidden. I don’t think I could’ve ever found it without her.
The girl leaned against the fence and took a packet of smokes from her pocket.
That’s when I relaxed.
“Oh.”
“What?”
“You smoke.”
She raised an eyebrow. “No. I just carry them around. I wanna look cool”
“Is it working?”
She looked at me up and down. I felt violated.
“For me? Yeah. For you? Nah.”
“Rude much?”
“I’m just being honest”
“Nevermind, I’d prefer you being rude.”
She put the cig between her lips and held her hand out
“Lighter.”
“Bossy”
“This is my spot. So I can do whatever I want.”
“You can boss anyone in your spot?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t see your name on it.”
She looked at me, and then at a brick wall, and then back at me. “I’ll carve it in later.”
“With what? Your personality?” I looked at her with a smug face.
Her mouth twitched.
“Careful,” she said. “You’re one joke away from me telling a teacher.”
My stomach dropped.
Worst of all she noticed. And then smiled.
“You actually believe that?”
I tried to play it off. “No I didn’t.”
“You went pale though?”
“That’s just how I am.”
I handed her the lighter
She lit her cig and took a long drag, and then handed it back.
“Thanks.”
I put the lighter back in my pocket.
For a few seconds, a silence filled the air. She leaned against the fence, one foot against the wall. Cig between her fingers, looking extremely comfortable. Especially for someone who’s breaking the rules. And the law, I guess.
I hated how cool she looked.
Not cool like popular girl cool. Not fake cool. More like she didn’t care if anyone liked her, which somehow made me want her to like me.
Stupid.
Extremely stupid.
I had known her for about a minute and my brain was already embarrassing me.
She glanced at me. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I’m just making sure you aren’t going to run off and report me.”
“With a cig in my hand?”
“Could be evidence.”
She stared at me for a second.
“You’re weird.”
“You threatened to snitch on me for making jokes.”
“Because your jokes are a crime.”
“That was actually decent.”
I laughed a little and looked away, pretending the fence was interesting.
She tapped ash onto the ground. “What’s your name then?”
“Leo.”
“Leo what?”
“Carter.”
She nodded, but seemed like she was judging it.
“What?” I said.
“Nooothing.”
“Uh uh..”
“Leo Carter sounds like someone who apologises when someone bumps into him.”
I opened my mouth, then closed it.
Because she was right.
“I hate how accurate that is.”
She smiled slightly. “Thought so.”
“What’s your name then?”
“Mia.”
“Mia what?”
She paused.
“Graves.”
I stared at her.
She pointed at me instantly. “Do not.”
“I didn’t even say anything.”
“You were about to.”
“No I wasn’t.”
“You had the face.”
“What face?”
“Nevermind…”
I took a drag to stop myself smiling. “I mean…”
“Don’t.”
“Perfect name for you.”
She rolled her eyes. “Wow. Original. Never heard that before.”
“Really?”
“No. I’ve heard that every day since middle school.”
“Makes sense.”
She took another drag and looked away, clearly done with the topic.
I probably should’ve stopped there.
Obviously, I didn’t.
“So what do people call you then?”
“What?”
“Like a nickname.”
“I don’t have one.”
“Oh.”
I took a drag from my cig. Thinking of a way to get revenge on her.
“What about Graveyard?”
She stared at me.
“No.”
“Gravestone?”
“No.”
“Graves?”
“That’s literally my name.”
“Yeah, but as a nickname.”
“That’s the worst one.”
I nodded like I was taking feedback seriously. “Okay. What about Funeral Director?”
She blinked. “What?”
“Well, you look like someone who would organise a funeral, and then complain about the music.”
For a second, she just stared at me.
Then her mouth twitched.
“Don’t laugh,” I said.
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I’m trying not to.”
“It counts.”
She looked away, but it was too late. A laugh slipped out. Not a big one. Just a short, surprised laugh like she hated that I’d earned it.
I smiled before I could stop myself.
“Shut up,” she said.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You looked proud.”
“I am proud.”
“It was a terrible joke.”
“You laughed.”
“Because it was terrible.”
“Still counts.”
She shook her head, but she was smiling now.
Moments later, the bell rang.
It meant that we had to get back in class and pretend like we hadn’t just smoked our lungs out.
Mia looked toward the building.
“Great,” she said. “Now I’m late.”
“Like you actually care?”
“Yeah, no. That’s fair.”
“What class you got?” I asked.
“Literature.”
“That explains the funeral look.”
She gave me an annoyed look.
I raised both hands. “Last one.”
“Better be.”
“What about you?” she asked.
“Math.”
She made a face. “That’s worse.”
“Yeah. If I don’t come back, numbers killed me.”
“Good luck with that, Leo Carter.”
She started walking toward the corner, then stopped.
“Oh,” she said.
“What?”
“If you stand by the vending machines tomorrow, I actually might snitch.”
“Thats not helping…”
“It actually is. You’re being ungrateful.”
Then she turned the corner and disappeared.
I stood there for a second, still holding what was left of my cigarette, listening to the school go quiet around me.
Then I realised something.
She’d said tomorrow.
By the time I got to math, I was seven minutes late.
Mr. Sato stopped writing on the board when I opened the door.
The whole class turned around.
Shit.
“Carter,” he said, looking at the clock. “Nice of you to join us.”
“Sorry, Sir.”
He stared at me for a second.
I was very aware that I smelled like smoke.
I sat down next to Ren, who leaned over before I even opened my notebook.
“You smell like shit.”
“Thanks man.”
“Where were you?”
“Making bad decisions.”
I opened my notebook and tried to copy whatever was on the board.
Something about formulas or something. Probably.
I wrote the date.Then without thinking, I wrote something small in the corner of my page.
Mia Graves.
I stared at it. And then instantly scratched it so hard, the pencil almost tore through the paper.
Ren looked over. “What was that?”
“Nothing.”
“Sure, bro.”
For the rest of the lesson, numbers tried to kill me.
They failed.
Unfortunately, thinking about Mia Graves did not.
