Worst Case Scenario

Cat finishes up her long-winded, yet heart-felt story, finally giving herself a break, bringing her steaming hot little cup of tea to her mouth before finally breaking the silence that followed with, “So what do you think?”

“Hard to say,” Frankie took a long drag from freshly lit cigarette.

“Hard to say what you think? C’mon, man, humor me.”

He pursed his lips and exhaled the smoke into the drab morning air.  “You wanna know what I think?”

“Yeah, that’s what I asked you, Frankie.”

“I think,” he begins, “worst case scenario, dis chick leaves, forgets to say goodbye, forgets ta leave a numba, and goes on with her life, exactly like you should be doin’.  People come ‘n go in life, Cat.  Dat’s just a fact-o-life.  Now how you choose t’ deal with just such a situation is up to you, Sweetheart.  Not me or the people you meet in some class somewhere, or somethin’.  You are responsible for your happiness.”

Cat looked to the burning cigarette in his hand and for the first time in her life felt a dire craving for the taste of it.  She was never good at hiding her feelings when she wanted something; Frankie noticed her staring at it and handed it to her, skillfully resting in between his two practiced fingers.  He was a smoker.  Cat pinched it between her thumb and forefinger, lifting it to her mouth and took a deep drag.  She was a “pothead.”  The smoke filled her lungs and burned her throat, making her cough.

“Jesus, Cat, I only got one cigarette left, if you’re gonna smoke it, smoke it like a damned cigarette.”

“So—sorry,” she coughed, handing him back the cigarette between her thumb and forefinger.  “I don’t usually smoke cigarettes," taking a swig of her tea to make an attempt at drowning the taste of the cigarette smoke.

“Yeah, I know what you smokin’,” he said, taking the cigarette back.  They both laughed.

“So, what is it wit’ this honey anyway?  What’s so special ‘bout this one that no other one don’t got?”

Cat sighs.  “I don’t really know.  I think what I’m afraid of, really, is that she’ll just up’n leave, y’know?”  She took the cigarette back and took another drag, being mindful that it was a cigarette, not a joint.  “I hate ending a friendship, but I hate not having a resolution to one even more.  The least that we could do is bring it to a nice close.”  She exhaled slowly, trying to blow smoke rings.  Frankie watched her.
“For someone who likes chicks, you sure can open your mouth preddy wide,” Frankie commented.  They both laughed again, making Cat choke on the smoke still in her lungs and messing up any of the attempted rings she had blown.

“Shut up, Frankie!” she laughed.  “Goddamn, man!”

They shared that cigarette in silence, and without thinking, Frankie lit up his last one, and they shared that one in silence, too.  When it that one had been smoked to the filter, and smothered on the coffee table between them was when Frankie realized he was out of smokes.

“Shit, man.”

“What’s up?”

“I’m gonna need to run to the gas station to get another pack, we just smoked my last fro.”  He stood up, searching his pockets for spare cash, coming up empty-handed.  He looks to Cat with his best puppy-dog-eyes-of-innocence expression.  She laughs again and says “There’s a twenty underneath my laptop.”

“That’s where you hide all your damned cash!”

“Yeah, well, now I have to find a new hiding spot.”

Frankie merrily walked inside, zoning in on his target.  Cat shut the screen door behind him, calling out “I want my change, too, fucker! Don’t go spending that on chips and shit!”

Frankie mumbled something on his way out the front door.  Cat kicked back and drank up the fresh night air.  She was glad that they decided to put in the screen around the porch; the mosquitoes were savages in the middle of the summer.  She rested her head against the wooden headboard of the seat she was in and closed her eyes, taking in the cool, rain-scented air.  She figured she’d just rest her eyes.  Just for a moment.  Frank’d be back soon enough, anyway.