Ah, the bell. It rings so clearly as you stride into the hallway, break into a run, and have the door slammed into your face. As if I needed a reason to hate this place.
I lean against the brick building and pack my cig. Amateurs go on about Malboro Reds…I could roll a better cig with my eyes closed. So I do. Every time.
When I open my eyes, there’s the hall monitor. Again, I enjoy myself too much and pay the consequence. Marty swipes my cigarette and slaps a large fine on me.
I’m only kidding. Detention for a week. Jerk.