Smoking Section

The water was too murky to prove that it was a suicide attempt.

But he knew.

Soren always knew.

"You stupid fuck," he snarled, sucking deeply on his cigarette. A cloud of smoke poured from his lungs. "Did you think I wouldn't notice?"

"Don't know what you're talking about," Bear muttered, tipping the beer bottle to his lips.

Soren yanked it away and shattered it against the concrete balcony.

"I'm not in the mood, Bear. You were on the varsity swim team. Just because there's no note doesn't mean I don't see what's going on."

Bear's blue eyes looked at him, worried and tight, before flicking back to the busy night full of lit skyscrapers and flashing cop cars.

"There was a note. It's just..." He leaned forward onto the railing, sighing heavily. "I mailed it. So...so it's gonna take some time to get to you."

Silence spread between them, heavy and hot like a fever.

A look of distaste swept across his face before he could bury it under another drag on his cigarette. He wasn't looking forward to reading that.

"Well. Isn't that a lovely correction?" he said, stating it more than asking.

"Soren..." Bear stopped, coughing hard and shaking his head. He spat over the balcony. "Sorry. The pond water got me kinda sick."

Soren was quiet.

He watched the trailing line of smoke move into the sky. If Bear had died in that pond, today would be the funeral. They always buried people on a Tuesday.

"You're not leaving this apartment."

"What?" Bear asked, his face opening in shock. "You can't tell me what to do."

He exhaled smoke into Bear's face.

"Do you want to get committed?"

Bear shrank back, then looked away.

"One month. You stay with me for one month, Bear. And we'll figure this out." He handed him the half-smoked cigarette and huffed. "At least I'll let you smoke."