Oliver walks up to where I am sitting on the rim of the sink. He takes my lit cigarette from between my lips, puts it out, and tosses it into the nearby trash. He’s bold. I like it. He sits on the rim beside me. “Bad habit. Did you get it from Pete?”

“No, I’ve smoked since I was fourteen,” I respond. “And you’re what, sixteen now?” he asks jokingly. I laugh and reply, “No, I’m nineteen.” Oliver rolls his eyes. “So, that’s only five years. You could quit now, instead of quitting years from now when it’ll be much harder.”

“Okay, okay…I’ll cut down. Happy?” I ask, standing. He takes both of my hands in his. “No, you’ll stop. You’re much too pretty for such a habit.” I can feel myself blushing madly, and I look down at the floor as I walk away from him. Oliver hops down from the sink, and puts his arm around my shoulder as we leave the bathroom. “Looks like the beginning of a beautiful friendship,” he says with a smirk on his face.

He is so good looking that he’s beautiful, I think to myself.