The smoke from my cigarette drifted upwards in lazy tendrils, like slender fingers reaching forth to pluck a star from the night sky. I took another drag and let the smoke settle into my lungs before letting it back out.

He wasn't here. We met here every night, at the same time without fail for the past two years. What the hell could he be up to?

I felt a wave of concern and the sharp stab of some other emotion I didn't want to acknowledge. Frowning, I flicked off some of the burnt ashes from my cigarette. I decided I would wait another ten minutes and if he didn't show up I was going to go find something else to do tonight. Maybe I would finally go get my ears pierced finally, or go watch the band performing tonight.

I leaned back against the railing, watching the herd of tourists trample through the boardwalk. Families were heading towards the rides, flooding the lines with howling children and impatient parents. Couples were strolling up and down the street, playing the fair games to try and win prizes for their loves and then sneaking down to the darkened beach to give themselves some privacy from the roaring crowd to celebrate their winnings.

All of the locals knew that you didn't really come out after a certain time during tourist season. But, here I was, facing the crowds for a guy who didn't even show up. A guy whose name I didn't even know. I huffed and let my cigarette butt drop to the ground, grinding my toe to make sure it was out completely. I could taste my jealousy and hurt blend with the nicotine flavor in my mouth.

Which was ridiculous, as I started to think about it. We weren't in a relationship; hell, we might not even be what people considered friends. The only thing we knew about each other was the brand of cigarettes that we smoked. Our agreement to meet at our spot was a silent agreement, one that might not be as mutual as I thought.

Maybe I had made it up in my head and thought that he enjoyed my company as much as I enjoyed his. He was quiet; other than asking for a cigarette or a light and random comments he didn't say a word, and usually I didn't either. His presence was calm compared to the chaos that usually reigns the boardwalk. It allowed me to breathe through the anxiety that wanted to swallow me whole so I could people watch in peace. It was a feeling I was used to, and with him not here it opened my eyes to how much I had come to rely on him and the peace he carried with him.

I felt another wave of irritation and anger fall over me so I stepped away from the railing and slipped into the flow of the traffic, swiftly heading towards the exit where my bike was parked. I was tired from a day of working and without him here I could feel the sights, smells, and noises of the boardwalk closing in on me like cement walls.

Children ran past my legs, squealing as they continued to weave through the legs of the adults race to get to the cotton candy stand just down the way. Teenagers were laughing loudly as they casually roamed through the stores. A man appeared in front of me, knocking into my shoulder. I flinched and dropped my head, picking up the pace.

On my way out I passed the merry-go-round, which was teeming with people. The sickeningly sweet music floated towards me, causing a sharp pain through my brain. Normally I avoided it—because it seemed that this ride was tourist magnet and the thought of that many people being in one place usually causes my heart to race—but today I decided to look up as I passed by and I felt my heart hit the floor and crack.

There he was, draped casually against the pole of one of the horses, a small smile on his face as he stared down at the girl riding the chestnut horse across from his. She had brown, wavy hair highlighted with a shade of cheap bottle blonde that flowed down to the small of her back and I could see the flush on her cheeks from all the way over here. His smile became wicked and he leaned down to whisper something in her ear. Whatever it was made her cheeks turn from lobster red to fire truck red. He moved away from her slightly and looked up, managing to catch my eye. His smile dropped and I could see the recognition start to bloom in his baby blues.

The jealousy bubbled up inside of me; the fact that he skipped tonight for some tourist who won't even be here for a week stung. The thought that he forgot about me felt like I had my chest caught in a vice grip.

My mouth twisted into a sour grimace and I flipped him off, pulling another cigarette out of my pocket as I continued towards my bike. If he wanted to flirt with that other girl, that was fine. It is a free country and he isn't obligated to smoke with me every night. However, I could hear the hollowness of that statement echoing around in the shadows of my mind. I ignored it.

I finally made it out to my bike, peeking warily at the dark shadows between the cars and other bikes. It was not uncommon for muggers to be waiting there, looking for some unfortunate victim. Most knew what my bike looked like and not to mess with it, but there was always the one or two people who did not get the memo. Today I just wasn't in the mood, though, so I prayed that they have decided to stay away.

I rolled the cigarette between my fingers and debated lighting it. I wanted to, just to calm my nerves and spite him, but at the same time I could feel the siren's song my bed was singing to me. The thought of hiding away in my soft bed with my sea of blankets, my cat and hot cup of tea sounded like the perfect way to forget this night.

"Hey."

I stiffened but didn't turn around, not wanting to look at him right now. The first time he decides to start a conversation and it is wasted because I couldn't stand to see his face right now. My gut reaction was to flee from all of this craziness, so I threw my leg over my bike and kicked up the kickstand.

"Don't go." A hand decked with different types of bracelets, some chain link and some spiked, reached out and grabbed the handle. "We need to talk."

I snorted and twisted the handle away and out from under his grasp. "We really don't."

I started my motorcycle and he quickly jumped in front of my bike, now holding both of my handle bars. He leaned over until we were only about five inches apart, making sure to maintain the connection between his eyes and my honey brown eyes. "We really do."

"Why?" I snarled, "You're not my boyfriend, hell you can hardly call us friends. You're under no contract or—or duty to meet with the lonely, little Goth girl every night to have a smoke. I get it, really, I do. She was pretty, you should go back before she starts to get concerned."

He didn't say anything, just continued to stare at me until I huffed, blushed, and turned my bike off. I put the kickstand down and leaned back, crossing my arms in front of me. His need to test my personal boundaries was seriously starting to bug me. If he didn't stop soon, he was going to get a broken nose.

"You think that I really wanted to spend time with that girl?" He asked, finally breaking his silence.

"Uh, yeah. It looked like you were having a pretty good time to me," I huffed.

His lips twisted into a smirk before breaking into a laugh that seemed to shake his entire body. He let his head fall forward, the blonde poof on his head covering his face. The longer he laughed the more I could feel my frown become deeper and my face become redder. "What's so funny?"

He toned down his laughter until it was the occasional chuckle and lifted his head, but you could still tell by the amusement in his eyes that he wasn't quite done finding the situation funny. "Sunshine, if I could only begin to explain how miserable I was. Talking to that girl was awful."

I snorted. "I highly doubt that. She looked like your type."

"Oh, and what do you know about my 'type'?"

"Nothing really, which fits in with everything else I know about you. But, you guys look like you belong together. With your fledgling Bon Jovi vibe and her with her acceptably-edgy get up, it just works."

"And don't you dare laugh again," I added, hearing another wave of laughter rumbling from inside his chest. "Or I will ride away and leave you face down on the ground."

His lips twitched, suppressing the chuckle that I knew wanted to fly out of his mouth. "Oh Sunshine, if we were matched up with the people others thought we fit with, the world would be more fucked up than normal."

"Then what were you doing, you Twisted Sister-looking Socrates?"

"There it is," he smiled, leaning forward a little bit more, "There is the question you have been dying to ask."

"Pfft, okay." I rolled my eyes. "In your dreams."

"How did you know that you were in my dreams?"

At that I busted out laughing, bracing my arms on my knees and leaning forward. He started laughing at his joke as well, moving away to lean against the car to my left, looking down at me with bright eyes. Eventually our peals of laughter faded away and I closed my eyes and sighed, enjoying the silence. It was like a hug: warm, familiar, and safe. I felt lighter—the laughter acting like a healing balm on the wounds left behind by my irrational jealousy.

I heard a cough and opened my eyes, glancing up to find him still staring down at me. However, his eyes had dimmed a little and softened, reminding me of a light blue velvet. "I was helping my brother out. He liked the girl, but he was too shy to go up to him. So, I went up to her for him."

"Well, that was sweet of you," I offered semi-sarcastically, smiling, "Does that put you in the running for 'Wingman of the Year'?"

"I wish," he snorted, "No, I'm in the running for something else that was way harder."

"Oh really, and what was that?"

"If you come back tomorrow to smoke with me, you'll find out," He offered, wiggled his eyebrows.

I rolled my eyes, but smiled and nodded in agreement. "Same spot as usual?"

"You know it!" He pushed off the car, dropping forward to cage me in my arms and stare into my eyes. I thought I saw a glimmer of gold in his iris, but before I could get a second look it disappeared.

"And no ditching me for some preppy tourist?" I asked, not breaking the stare between us.

"Boy Scout's honor," He winked and smiled brightly. Sweet Jesus, he had to have had a great dentist. His teeth were so white they were like neon headlights in the dark parking lot. "One more thing before I go, Sunshine, what's your name? You know, since we're actually talking to each other now."

I chuckled, "My name is Salem. And yours?"

"Paul. My name is Paul. It is nice to finally meet you, Salem."