Our school has a basement. It’s pretty much forgotten about, but I go there to smoke sometimes. I don’t do drugs… just cigarettes. They’re a real bitch to get, but they keep me relaxed. You know, less high-strung.
The basement is cold today, because it’s raining outside and there’s no heating system. The place is pretty much an icebox today, but it’s also the only place I can smoke without anyone bugging me. Class is probably going to end in five minutes, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t have a seventh period and Dave will just put away my picture for me. Besides, I was only gone for ten minutes, not fifteen, so technically that’s not a cut.
The basement is pretty big. It’s one big, windowless room cluttered with all kinds of stuff to hide behind. Old desks, sunken couches, an occasional poster from the 1970s.
Like the one with a picture of an ice cream with rainbow sprinkles and the subscript, in big red letters, “Try math. You just might like it.”
What kind of moron thinks of these things? It would be more effective if they showed a cigarette. Or even a hash brownie.
I guess that’s why it’s in the basement.
“Toby?”
I look up, squinting at the light and meet Ethan’s eyes.
“Toby--- there you are. Mr.G told me to get you.”
It’s too late to hide now. The light from above the metal stairs is shining around him, and his blond hair. His hair is platinum and just long enough to fall over his eyes, just slightly. It sounds like it would look fake or ugly, but it looks very good on him.
“Dave told me you might be here. Are you coming back to class?”
I blow some smoke in his direction, “No.”
I notice he’s wet. That’s because art in a different building from the rest of the school, and to get here he probably had to slosh through some rain.
Aw, he walked through the rain just to get to me. That’s kind of sexy. Now I can’t stop staring at the way the clothes are hanging off his body, water dripping off of them. I can hardly hear his words.
“Mr.G says if you don’t show up this time, he’ll make Mr.H give you a weekend detention.”
I laugh, “Like I care. Detention is just extra sleeping time.”
He grins, “Well, it’s your loss.” He cocks his head slightly and squints, “Are you smoking? That’s freaking dangerous, you don’t know what chemicals are floating around here. You could blow up the school---”
I light a new one, “Oh really? Good.”
I hear him sigh angrily, and look up. My eyes widen as I see him grip the doorknob.
“No! Don’t---”
A moment later, we are bathed in darkness.
“---close the door.” I sigh, “Great. Fucking great.”
He blinks at me in the relative darkness. There is some light, its strength depends on where you stand. The lighting down here isn’t so great.
“What? What did I do?” he asks, his voice wavering uneasily.
“You locked us in.” I reply, sitting down on an old couch and putting the cigarette to my lips. Damn it, even with him it’s cold in here.
He pulls at the doorknob to test my assertion, then curses, “Fuck.” and starts hitting the door in frustration.
“That won’t do any good. And we won’t starve or anything. There are earthquake kits down here with all the Gatorade you can drink and the crackers you can eat. And the janitor’s coming tomorrow morning, so we’ll be fine.”
“Don’t you have a cellphone with you?” Ethan glowers.
“Yeah,” I look away, and fumble for it in my backpack. I flip it open and notice the battery sign is blinking. I dial a number but the phone switches off in my face.
“Fuck.”
“What?” he asks me.
“Battery’s dead.”
He started to pound at the door again, yelling for help.
“Stop it!” I yelled, and he glares at me as if I’m crazy.
I sigh, “Look. I was stuck here three times before, and yelling won’t do any good. This place is soundproofed, no one can hear us.”
“Why would they soundproof a basement?”
I take another puff from my cigarette, “How the fuck should I know?”
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