Smoke Rings

Music thumped through the house, pulsing in time with Russell’s headache. Alcohol hung from one of his hands in a limp grasp, threatening to fall as he perched on the arm of a crowded sofa. He turned his head towards the girl on the seat, looking down at her and laughing bitterly as he spoke. He tumbled down onto her lap as he lost his balance, and landed in a heap on top of her. “Woah,” he grinned up at her, “I’m shitfaced!” He laughed loudly as he clambered awkwardly off of her lap and back up on to the arm of the sofa. She smiled up at him, leaning her head back and tossing her long hair over one shoulder. He turned his head back to face her after beckoning for more beer and louder music to smack his lips off of hers.

Her hand delved under his shirt, sliding her cold fingers over his neck and down his back, knocking the buttons of his shirt undone as she pulled his shirt away from his body. With her other hand she licked the button on his jeans open and shoved her hand ungracefully into his trousers. “Fuck!” Russell pulled back from the kiss and stood up quickly, leaving the girl tipping over the arm of the sofa. “No, I’m not doing this.” She pouted in an exaggerated movement, all lips and no sincerity, and lunged forward for him again; grabbing his half open, half torn shirt with clawlike nails. “Let go of me,” he yelled at her over the music, “I’m fucking gay!”

The girl let go straight away, and Russell ducked off into the party before she could chase him. Someone shoved a beer into his hands as they pushed past, and Russell downed it quickly. There was a pizza on the table which he grabbed a slice off, cramming it into his mouth like it was his first meal in weeks. But it had been doused in vodka earlier on and he swallowed it with less relish than he had when he started. A group of boys from the high school on the other side of town burst through the back door bearing booze. Most of them were wearing school blazes and their ties round their heads, but that was significant as Russell grabbed the first one to look his way. He pressed his body against the bloke’s and rolled his hips against his package. “Nice,” he said. “Upstairs?”

Russell shook his head, “Nah, I’ve got a car outside.”



Sitting in his car, Russell lit up a smoke from his position on top of the boy below. He looked out the window with disinterest as the boy sat up, flicking ash out onto the pavement. He shook his head as the boy asked for a repeat performance another time, and didn’t look his way as the boy gathered his clothes from around the car and left with icy glares. Russell caught his eye as he walked past the car and winced. It was the same look that had been in his eye when Teddy left.