kafkaesque: having a nightmarishly complex, bizarre, or illogical quality.
“I’ve picked up one or two things from all the advertising they do.” She smirked, biting down on her lip again as she peeked outside the window. Sophia had actually never been on this side of town so she was curious to see what was around, she’d considered taking a drive tonight though her plans had changed as she thought it may be better when it was light out. A small part of her was anxious, she knew it wasn’t like they’d actually be sleeping together but she still had minor worries. This wasn’t exactly a high school sleepover with other teenage girls. “It’s that late already?” Sophia asked with wide eyes as she checked her phone, shocked at how fast time had gone by. “You were surprisingly wrong there. More often than not I’m up until two in the morning because I get carried away with Netflix.”
“Glad you know a few things. That guy from the register… he saved your life. I wouldn’t smoke anything else unless it was this and the other one.” He threw the pack of cigarettes on the floor, conscious of the fact that he would pick it up before he went to bed. A goodnight cigarette was tradition– almost like how opening presents on Christmas morning was tradition to normal American families. He, on the other hand, wasn’t fond of holidays, nor was he fond of anything, really. “Now you sound a lot like a normal teenager with parents on vacation in Aspen.” He grinned, standing up and slipping his lighter back into his pocket. “I have a guest room upstairs. It’s across the hall from mine and next door from Lupe’s room. If you need anything, just knock on her door. She’ll get you whatever you need. I’ll be in my room.” And with that, he runs upstairs, to the pack of cigarettes n his dresser, well aware that the only reason he texted anyone was because he was lonely.