Stay

Sam came home a bit disgruntled that evening. I filled a a cup of whiskey for us and gave him his when he leaned in to kiss me. " Here, baby. How was your day" Sam shrugged in reply, "You seem tense, what's wrong?"

"A patient of mine, he predicted hail this morning." He said dropping down onto our sofa and using the hand, without the drink in it, to massage his temple. I rolled my eyes at him and sighed sitting down next to him.

"So what? He watches the news?" I replied a bit confused that a little weather prediction was upsetting him so much. He shook his head.

"No, I checked the news, there's nothing about hail, but it hailed." He said sounding very stressed. I thought for a moment searching for something comforting to say about this almost ridiculous predicament my boyfriend had gotten into. Poor guy has so much going on.

"Well, maybe his father is a meteorologist, or something" He nodded and turned to me.

"How was your day at the University?" I reviewed my day silently in my head for a second. I gave an art test that I'm not sure how to even correct, I had lunch, talked to a few students.

"Well, I'm not sure. I mean, I gave my students an exam and I mean what the hell do I know? One of these kids could be the next De Vinci. " Sam looked at me intently.

"Lila, you're a great teacher, relax. You don't know whether they'll be the next De Vinci or not, just do your job. Your students love you" I thought about his advice. I always listen to him, but I didn't feel right still.

"Tell me they'll remember me." I said trying to feel better about myself, another piece of advice given to me by Sam.

"Who do you want to remember you?" He asked looking at me with his loving and concerned eyes.

"The world." I mumbled. I wanted to be an artist that would be worth while, I wanted my students to love me. This goal, just didn't seem attainable for me though.

Sam gave me a knowing smile. "Then the world will remember you."

*** On a subway***

POV Business man

I got on the train to get home. I looked for a seat, but some scrawny pale kid covered in blue paint had taken my place so I had to stand. My day had already been crummy enough, and now some God damn kid took my spot.

"I know you, you're from Columbia University, right?" Some girl around the same age as the kid said to him, "Professor Mathewson, you did that oral report on Triston Reveur?" The kid just stared at her and lit a cigarette. What I'd give to have a damn cigarette, but I was quitting. I looked away from the kid and saw a sign. NO SMOKING. I looked back at the kid as he took a drag. "No smoking, buddy." The kid looked at me blankly.

"No smoking, capeesh? Look at the sign fella." I said getting a bit angry. He smirked.
"Capeesh?" He looked at me amused at my use of the word capeesh.
"Put out the fucking cigarette." His mouth was still curled into a smirk. He pulled up his shirt sleeve and put the burning cigarette onto his skin.

No wonder, the kid was fucking sick. "You oughtta be locked up" I told him as the subway stopped, "Asshole."