A/N: This is what happens when you (with your eyes closed) pick a random book off your bookcase to write about.

Disclaimer: I don't own 'em.


Addicted

lighter

Your lighter is being slow to light once again, most likely from overuse. Kris would laugh at the absurdity of the notion of overuse; you only bought it a few weeks ago. Nevertheless, you know it's true. You have to swear at it to get it to light but when it does, you consider apologizing. It wasn't the lighter's fault you're messed up, you reflect. Scrambling for a cigarette, you nearly groan in relief when you inhale the smoke while some preppy girl yells at you for smoking on school property. Mumbling an apology around the cigarette, you shove the lighter back into your pocket to await another smoke.

puff

You know by now, that even when this cheap plastic BIC lighter runs out you'll still keep it. You don't even want to keep it but you know you will. 'Cause the day you pulled it out of it's cheap plastic was the day she walked back into all of these years. Walked right up to you and didn't say anything (nothing with her voice at least), just stared at you with her clear blue eyes.

Eyes that told you that she hadn't forgotten who you are (or were) or what you are.

puff

After that, you just kept on coming back for more despite her obvious loathing and outright snubbing of anything you do, think or care about. But, you just keep on trying harder because you feel compelled to. God knows you've tried harder at this (even though you're not sure what "this" is) than you have at anything else in your lifetime. What draws you to her anyway? puff

Alexia said what was on your mind at the test match. She isn't that pretty, nor is she easy to be around. Sure, she is determined and driven but that isn't too uncommon. There are hordes of girls that are just as driven, if not more, to be found in a Grade A topnotch genius school like Lucrece. They all bore you to tears, though. She makes you cry too but for different reasons.

puff

Her petty little grudge act is getting old though. You know and everyone else knows that it isn't about that, not anymore at least. She probably doesn't even remember the hamster's name anymore. You didn't mean to kill it, anyhow. You found it rather cute, actually. The old bookcase just broke down and so you apologized (repeatedly). She just broke down and stopped. Stopped acknowledging your existence for the most part. Suddenly, you weren't even worth a squabble anymore.

puff

You find her interesting because when you stare at her long enough you can watch her strong-willed determined façade slip for an instant, and reveal the small fearful little girl inside. The same little girl you just wanted to make laugh because all you ever saw was her scared bawling face. Then mask goes back on and she's even more determined (although determination for what you have not the slightest idea). Determination to have more determination?

puff

Years have passed but all that's changed is the way she tries to be so courageous. The fact that you can't take your eyes off her never changed, not once. She still fascinates you after all this time. Your reliance on her is so strong isn't even laughable. And, all you ever were worth was a laugh or too. Now what defines you? She does. You just lost what little self worth you had. It's all right though, because if she will be there you never needed it any way.

puff

You don't belong here, and everyone knows it. You didn't even want to go here, but since you had nothing better to do with your life you enrolled. You know that the only reason you're popular here is 'cause the school has a shortage of slackers and that makes you exotic. Like one of those humongous multi-colored birds people like to call beautiful then stuff in a small dark cramped cage for the rest of their measly lifetimes.

puff

Can't even blame anyone for anything. It's all unclear. Everything but that her and you are connected, even if she denies your small little niche in her world. That won't change anything. She can't, not after the test game that served as a catalyst anyway. Both of you know that goal was for her. Hell, the whole team even knows. To say it wasn't is just a waste of time and oxygen; the pair of which could have been spent smoking a cigarette.

puff

You didn't even smoke that much before she came back. Just a few when you were stressed or anxious. Ever since that day, your new mantra has been a pack or two a day (give or take a few). Kris thinks it's hilarious, of course. Not that he knows about your fixation with her, not the extent of it at least. Instead, he decides that you've started chain smoking to look cool and pick up girls. That was typical slacker behavior, so you just said nothing and he acted as if it were true. You don't answer, just look at the plume of curling smoke in front of you. You wonder if the fire destroys the oxygen that it needs to survive is it also destroying itself in the process. Was it worth it?

puff

The team keeps telling you to quit even though you know you can't cut down or even change the brand if you wanted to. You aren't sure you even want to. Gotta die of something. Because when you inhale that smoke, it helps numb the ache somewhere between your heart and your soul that she caused. When she isn't there (and especially when she is) you feel like you're suffocating. No matter how many times Delia tells you that you can't smoke and get in shape, or how much inane shit Alexia spews about how you shouldn't want to be a Trabbi, you can't quit. At least not until she tells you that you can and that it'll be okay (even if it won't be).

puff

The warning bell rings. Crap. You take a last puff, throw the remnants of the cigarette on the sidewalk and crush it under your sneakers while striding through the front doors of the high school. Walking through the rapidly emptying hallways, you find yourself in front of her class door. Who are you trying to fool, anyway? You aren't even addicted to the cigarettes or the nicotine, you're addicted to her. She has to be your own personal drug designed to drag you to your own personal hell. Joy.

filter

You want to see her, if only for a second. Won't do you any good, but you peer into the window set into the door and there she. There she is in all here brilliance and stupidity while you're over here willing here to look at you. Your eyes meet when she does, and you can't look away. Obviously she can, 'cause that's exactly what she does and your stomach plummets. Then, you're left dry-mouthed frantically scrambling through your pockets for a cigarette while you stumble miserably to class. Pathetic.