Disclaimer: Me and newsies have no ownage of each other. Actually, I lie. Newsies owns my soul.

April 16th. 6th hour.

"Hey, you're in my precalc class, right?"

I turned, snuffing my cig out on the rim of the sink. The guy was pretty ugly, with heavy eyebrows and glasses. I paused, envisioning the precalc classroom, before answering, "Third hour?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah—you mind if I smoke?" I drew another cigarette from the pack in my pocket and dug around in my other pocket for my lighter.

"Not at all—can I have one?"

I paused again—why should I give some random fucker one of my cigarettes? "...Sure," I finally said, lighting one and handing it to him. He took a deep drag as I lit my own.

"I'm Mark," he said after a few minutes.

I took another drag, then turned and blew the smoke into his face as I answered, "Ivan."

"Um... they call me Specs."

"Who?"

"My friends."

I fought the urge to retort, you have those? and said instead, "Oh... Dutchy." I thurst my thumb at my chest.

There was a pause, in which I kicked open a stall door and sat on the toilet, idly smoking and reading the inside of the stall.

This Mark/Specs character couldn't let me be.

"So... um... what're you doing here?"

I took another drag and let it out before answering. "Smoking."

"...Okay, stupid question."

"No shit," I said noncommittally before kicking the stall door shut. It bounced back open, and I kicked it shut again. It kept bouncing back, and I kept kicking it back, and it kept bouncing, and I kept kicking, until finally I just held it shut with my foot. I silently smoked and examined the top of my black Converse high-tops.

Outside my stall, I heard silence, then a splash and a quiet, "fuckbit."

I didn't inquire.

"I dropped my cig in water," Mark told me.

I didn't answer.

"I don't suppose I could have another?"

I inhaled.

"Please?"

I blew the smoke out, watching it spiral away.

"I won't drop this one," Mark begged.

Finally, I let my foot down. The door drifted open, and I tossed the pack at him. He fumbled the catch—of course—and the pack opened, scattering six cigarettes on the damp bathroom floor. He gathered them up and took one, dropping the other five back in the small box, which he held out as he asked, "Can I have a light?"

I handed him my lighter and said, "Keep the pack."

"Oh, thanks."

I rolled my eyes and took the lighter back—I noticed as I rolled it thoughtfully in my hand that it was getting low on fluid. I flicked it, watching the flame lick the air. Then I slowly moved it over so the flames burned the ugly ornage paint on the bathroom stalls.

"Um, you should call me Specs."

I dropped my butt on in the toilet between my legs. "I'm going back to class."

"Oh. Uh... bye..."

I hled up a hand to wave, but the door shut behind me before I got the chance.

A/N: Yeah, the chapter's pretty short. They all will be, because I'm putting up a separate chapter for each day, and since it just details the time in the bathroom, there's not a whole lot to cover.