I can’t really think of a time when I eavesdropped. I’m sure I must have at some time or other, but just can’t remember. So I wrote a short fiction story.
The sky cleared finally. The blue colour flooded my eyes and I felt like I wanted to boogie. Winter had been long. Oh, so long. Another week of dreary, gray cast conditions would have toppled my nerves. Snowdrifts piled high no matter where you stood. It all looked pretty for a time, but it had lasted much too long. Five months too long. Hopefully, the gray, dull, windy weather had made its final production the day before with snow blowing everywhere and swirling around. It felt like we all lived in a fog.
School let out early that day. Teacher’s Convention or something. Two girls walking ahead of me, on the wet slushy sidewalk, drew my attention. I had never seen them smoke before, but then I never did really hang out with them. A sign, painted in red letters stated, no smoking on or near the school premises, and usually everybody kept to the rules. Just the look of the school principal was enough to restrict the students from being disrespectful. His stature, a type of Goliath, with a stern eye mimicked the Hulk, except for the colour, green.
I heard the girls giggle as one slid her hand over her face in an attempt to hide her cigarette, but how does one hide smoke puffing from out of your face.
They turned facing me, flicking the ashes on the cement.
“Do you wanna have a puff?” one of them said.
“Aah, no thanks.” I replied.
“What, you think you’re too cool?” They now gawked at me, like a dog does when he sits by a chicken fence. “Bet she’s going to snag on us so we get into trouble.”
“You don’t have to worry about me. I’m not saying a word to anybody.” I felt uncomfortable. The air smelled weird. Something was up. What were they smoking anyway?
I soon found myself sitting in the principal’s office as a witness and/or a suspect. The girls and I were nabbed by a couple of plain-clothes cops. My quick theory was correct. The students were caught with weed and who knows what else. How they thought I was connected was uncertain to me, but one thing I came to realize when the ordeal was finalized. If you’re anywhere near the crime, you are automatically considered a prime suspect.