#4 William Doesn't Smoke

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"How can you afford those things?" He asked for the fifth time that day. I groaned again around the freshly light smoke. Why does he always complain when I use something that's frowned on by the medical community? I'm not the one working with a part-time drug dealer or whatever the hell his dad did to leave him with a suitcase full of heroin. Smoking was something I had wanted to do since I was young. I practiced with pens during tests and vapors behind my mom's back during the tween years. It was just a habit. "If you must know I got a new job recently. Now I don't have to buy that shitty gum. Honestly, sweetheart, you can buy these at the goddamn Walgreens." He rolled his eyes again. He hated being called sweetheart just to get him to calm down. He was always kinda touchy about health problems that come up when he talks about the next twenty years. I never really cared about that, I'm goddamn forteen, I know I can't decide if I'm gonna be a suicidal bitch or a shy writer with this shitstorm called life. "Why should you even care? You're gonna be leavin' in a couple weeks. If I die in eighteen years why would you care?" He took my arm and glared into my eyes. What is with me and his eyes? There's nothing special about his. They're just light green irises, now the color of spring leaves in the late afternoon light. But, I could never look away from them. He sighed,"Look Jessy, I know you don't want me to leave but, it's not my desision. My dad got a job in Oregon and thinks I need to go to some 24/7 boarding school that's up there. I don't want to leave and I really wanted to go to UNT, like we planned, but, I'm turning fifteen and my sister's almost done with college. I'm getting older and I'm still not even certain I belong here. I promise I'll come back for you. We just have to talk online for a few years. And why shouldn't I be worried? You just inserted two pounds of metal into your face before I even left!" I scoffed, defensivly sheilding my new nose stud and snake bits. It was true I had gotten six pairs of barbels and three rings for one eyebrow but I would always look good with punk. "Hey come on, don't dis the piercings! Just because you won't get a tattoo until you go to college doesn't mean I was ever going to wait." I replied crossing my arms and smirking. I took a drag hurriedly as he wrapped around his arms around my waist. I could feel the weight of his head against my shoulder. I blew out the smoke in a white cloud making sure to turn away from his nostrils. "You know I really am just worried about your health. Can't you try quiting?" He whispered against my ear. I was actually used to this kinda thing, even if it had only been a few months since we even kissed. He was leaving and he wasn't leaving any lose strings. Although, it was seriously strange to be doing it in a park. I took a long drag before I answered. "Look, I know you're just worried about me. I have tried and it doesn't work. I hate anti-nicotine relief and the stuff helps me. When I actually want to quit, I'll try. But, until then I won't." He sighed against me, the familiar feeling of his breath against my neck soothing. "I know. It's just kinda my job to worry about you, ya know?" I smiled, pulling the cigarette out of my mouth with a puff of smoke. "I know. I'm just not ready for that sort of commitment to getting rid of something that helps me." He kissed my cheek pulling me closer to his chest causing me to grin. He took me by the chin and pulled me closer. "Wait? Do we have to French since ya got the stud?," he asked as I open my eyes. I snickered. I hadn't even showed him the tongue stud I'd gotten the other day, but, of course, he had spotted it as I spoke. "No you goof! It's just there to make it more enjoyable. Is that alright?" He smiled, a light blush spreading on his checks before he kissed me. I hadn't noticed until he walked off, my hand in his, that I had dropped my cigarette on the pathway.

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