The air was dry over the forest. A low wind whistled through the trees, the leaves scratched against each other like pages of newspaper. Summer was still going strong, but autumn was showing it’s burnt visage through the nights. I breathed it all in. It stung a bit.
“Alex,” said Sam from behind me “Can we get a move on, already?” Impatient, as per usual.
I turned to look at him. Sam stood a good head taller than me, all arms and legs. Any stranger looking at him could tell you he was a punk. From the faded jean jacket, to the loose and tattered jeans, to the mean look in his eyes, Sam was the textbook example. His behavior didn’t exactly discredit the assumption, either. He squinted at me from behind his full moon glasses.
“Why’re you staring at me?” he grumbled.
“Just thinking…”
It was the truth. Sam and I dated about a year ago, but we broke it off quickly. Whenever anyone saw us-- a Korean thug and an angry black girl-- they weren’t encouraging. Both our social circles hated each other and thought we were some sort of trope; the two resident minorities dating each other, but Sam and I cut ourselves off with those people after the incident. Since then, it was just us against the world. It hasn’t been romantic, instead of dating, we just accepted each other unconditionally. We spend time together because no one else was up to the challenge.
“Good” said Sam, pinching a fresh cigarette between his teeth “you haven’t been thinking nearly enough.”
I scrunched up my nose, “That’s so gross. Do you have to do it now?” He flicked his lighter.
“Can’t do it at home.” he took a deep breath, then billowed out a cloud of smog.
“Whatever.” I mumbled, turning my attention back to the landscape.
Something changed. A little ways into the woods, I saw a plume of smoke rising to blend with the night sky. It was too cool out for a forest fire, not to mention that the sun had set over an hour ago. No, this was intentional. A controlled burn in the middle of the woods. I reached my arm back to and grabbed Sam’s arm. He started to complain, but stopped as soon as he saw the smoke.
“Looks like someone beat us to it.” he took another deep inhale.
“Yeah, no shit. Should we go see who?” I asked. He puffed out again.
“Could be some weirdo.” said Sam.
“I think you’re the only weirdo out here.” he made a fake-crying face then blew smoke at me.
“Let’s go you human fog machine.”
A year ago, if someone told me that I would be spending my weekends in the woods with my ex-boyfriend, I would’ve laughed right in their face. My weekends were for parties and bad decisions, no regrets. But, as I walked with Sam to the treeline, I felt oddly calm. My whole body was at ease, the smell of tobacco and distant smoke replacing the fog in my brain. Well, parties are overrated anyways, I burned that bridge when I got the chance.
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