In grade school Bobby Davies and my brother were nearly inseparable. They
played on all the same teams and always hung out after school together.
Bobby was a pretty fair athlete but Tommy was the starting quarterback for
our high school this past fall – and they’re both just sophomores. I don’t
know if coming in second fiddle to Tommy so often dampened Bobby’s
enthusiasm for sports but he dropped all of them after ninth grade
basketball. He probably would have started at second that spring on the
junior high baseball team but he didn’t even try out.
We saw little of him that spring and by summer year ago he simply no longer
came around. This presented an enormous problem for me because I had
declared my everlasting love for him – to myself of course – back in third
grade and felt even more strongly now five and a half years later. I was
already well practiced at the signature “Mrs. Dinah Davies” and the wedding
plans were more evolved than would make sense to anyone other than perhaps
another fourteen year old girl.
As my eighth grade year slipped past, by shear absence Bobby faded some
from mind. Any time, though, that a guy paid much attention to me – and
that seemed to be happening a lot more regularly as my body protruded in
desirable ways – the thought of reciprocating felt like cheating on Bobby.
Stupid, of course – but then isn’t that the definition of young love?
With my freshman year ahead I did long for it to pass even faster than the
last. Even if Bobby might not be the one, the high school definitely
offered more interesting options than the junior high. While I maintained a
near 4.0 as the family mores demanded, I could sense that my social
aspirations might be a touch more out there than my brother’s seemed to be.
From what I’d heard half the cheerleading squad was ready to provide
services and he hardly took notice.
Two months from now I’d be locked down with my pre-pubescent peers for a
nine month sentence while the real players would reside but a mile away – a
mile that feels like a million. On an early July swelter, I’d been feeling
restless all day and kind of irritable – not so unusual as that time of the
month was upon me. I’d been thinking about Bobby all afternoon and when mom
mentioned that she needed a couple things from the store I rather
uncharacteristically volunteered cheerfully to run that errand for her.
At sixteen Bobby’s dad began paying him to do the gofer work at his body
shop. The other guys there were all older – some still in school and some
not – and clearly this was a car crowd. He had turned sixteen early in his
sophomore year and it was pretty clear that he too had moved over into the
car camp. That summer before high school his dad already had tagged a car
for him. I wandered by their house at any opportunity and the ’56 Chevy was
often in the driveway.
I made the run on my bike this particular day with the Davies house along
the route – well, a convoluted route. I swung down Jersey Drive on the way
to Food Giant and then again on the way home. The return trip was a bonanza
because I could see that the hood was up on the Chevy. As I approached from
the rear Bobby’s head popped out just long enough to light a cigarette.
Dangling and exhaling, he was back beneath the hood without ever noticing
me.
This was new news. I had no smoker friends. It was not a habit condoned in
our household so it was kind of out of my consciousness. As I rode the last
few blocks home I attempted to build up some serious disapproval. Clearly I
should be disgusted with this development but it just wasn’t happening. To
the contrary, it seemed to make Bobby maybe even a touch more interesting.
With our family so straight laced, a little bit of aberrant behavior struck
me as strange fun.
Over the ensuing few days I played with this new side to Bobby. I recalled
that his folks, and his sister who was a maybe a senior, were smokers too
so I guess him being one shouldn’t be such a news flash. I wondered if
Tommy knew but wasn’t sure how to broach it. I inquired one evening if he’d
seen Bobby lately and he just gave me a disinterested shrug. When I tried
to probe he just said they had different interests and left it at that.
I was within a few months of sixteen and had some new decisions to make.
The first was ditching my bike. That was an image I no longer wanted to
portray. Physically I was pretty mature and had noticed with some pleasure
more than a few of Tommy’s friends checking me out the past year or two.
Sadly, Bobby hadn’t been one of those but then again he hadn’t been around
a lot either so maybe it was just lack of opportunity. It was clear that
creating opportunities was going to be job one.
I now ran mom’s errands on foot. This took longer but it also allowed me to
dress a bit more chicly. If mom took note, she didn’t let on. The third
week of June, I hit the jackpot. The car hood was up as I headed to the
store. I was maybe 100 feet beyond their house when I heard, “Hey Di,
whatcha doin’ in my neighborhood?”
“Going shopping,” I responded and just kept walking – with a little extra
sway to my step. I couldn’t tell if his eyes continued to follow me but I
suspected.
Confirmation was just a return trip away. Thirty minutes later I’m passing
by heading home and it’s pretty clear he’s been watching for me. He sees me
several houses away and is sitting on his rear bumper as I pass. He
initiates the conversation with some questions about Tommy which I field
quickly and then starts asking about me. I like where this is headed. He
meanders down toward me and points toward the curb suggesting we sit.
Invitation accepted.
I express my dismay at being yet a year away from high school and how
dreadful the following year promises to be. Nonchalantly lighting a
Marlboro, he empathizes and says, “Ya, you sure don’t look like a junior
high kid anymore”. With uncontainable glee, I feign surprise at the
compliment and return my best shot at a seductive look, its strongest point
being absolute sincerity. A little blush on his part signals some kind of
success.
We continue to chat about mutual friends as he finishes his cigarette and I
acknowledge that mom is waiting for the pork chops in order to make dinner.
I make no mention of the smoking nor does he. It’s now just what is.
Playing nonplussed seems like my best strategy and avoids what could be an
awkward conversation. As I turn to go he offers “drop by anytime” and I
smile back that I just might. Might, ya right?
That was a Saturday afternoon and there was no way I could wait a full week
for the next encounter. I knew that he worked pretty much full time so I’d
need a new strategy. I decided that the chances were best he’d be out
working on his car after work so maybe early evenings would be a good bet.
I finished the dinner dishes quickly on Tuesday and told mom I’d be over at
Jeri’s since she lived that direction. My heart skipped a beat when I saw
the car hood up.
I had about thirty seconds to formulate the right greeting. It turned out
to be the not very inspired, “So when are you going to take me for a ride?”
His reply was that he wasn’t allowed to have passengers until seventeen but
maybe I could be the first. Right answer, Bobby. After nearly six years of
dreaming, there was some chance of dreams becoming reality. He seemed
honestly interested in me.
We resumed our spots on the curb and he again pulls out his Reds. This time
however he tilts the pack in my direction. This wasn’t in my plan and I
uncomfortably declined with a way too rapid head shake but he didn’t seem
to notice as he realizes the pack is dead. I’m awed though by the fact that
he’d even offer. Clearly I’ve been repositioned from “friend’s kid sister”
to “girl I could hang with”.
He stubs out his cigarette and though maybe I should feign a need to head
home, I don’t. “You want a coke or something?” he offers and I say sure.
“Follow me,” he commands and I do so obediently. We walk around to his
backyard and he points to lawn swing indicating that I should relocate
there. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he continues entering the backdoor as I
head for the swing.
He returns in a couple of minutes with two Cokes tucked under his arm while
focused on opening a fresh pack of Marlboros. I watch the ritual – wrist
packing, cellophane ripping, foil tearing, and finally tapping out and
exposing a couple of filters – with serious curiosity. Smoking simply was
not of my culture – neither family nor friends – so this was like a
different universe.
Oblivious to my earlier rejection, he offers again. This time he extends
the freshly opened pack to me and it’s clear that I’m expected to pluck out
one of the now exposed filters. I do so awkwardly with no idea of what
comes next. I sort of yanked at it and was surprised to find it virtually
weightless. I don’t know what I had expected but it wasn’t that. I also had
little idea of how to hold it and found the filter kind of squeezed between
two fingers and a thumb – kind of like a human candlestick holder.
I was still kind of staring at it uncomfortably when I realized that Bobby
had a flame nearing my face. I quickly shifted the cigarette between my
index and middle finger and took it to my lips a nanosecond before the
flame arrived. I sucked like through a straw and the thing actually lit
while delivering some strange substance into my mouth. Reflexively I simply
spit it back out.
Bobby again seemed to pay little heed as he simultaneously lit his own
smoke and exhaled a long firm rope. “I really don’t know how to do this,” I
offered.
“I know,” he responded, “but I wanted to see if you were game. I couldn’t
care less whether you smoke or not but at least trying tells me you’re not
a goody two shoes like” – a sentence that didn’t require completing. “If
you want to learn, I’ll teach you sometime but for this first one just keep
doing what you’re doing – suck and blow out.”
In the meantime Bobby popped open both Coke cans and we swung back and
forth with those in our left hands and cigarettes in our right. Sipping
Cokes and chatting, he smoked his cigarette while I kind of toyed with
mine. It tasted kind of blucky – okay, really blucky – but it was extremely
fun to be doing something definitely adult and kind of naughty. For the
life of me though I couldn’t see what the big deal was about. Surely
something so fundamentally distasteful could never lead to a habit – then
again that’s what it looked like had happened to Bobby.
Following his lead I snuffed my cigarette out with my sandal, the swing now
stilled. I wasn’t prepared for what happened next, though I’d been planning
for it most of my life. He put his arm around my shoulder, turned me toward
him, and kissed me on the lips. I neither kissed him back nor attempted to
resist. I just went with it. The taste of him and the lingering taste of
his cigarette – our cigarettes – made an indelible impression upon me. For
the rest of my life that would be the taste of love.
Dusk was turning to darkness as I recognized I’d better get home. All that
I’d need would be for mom to call Geri’s and not find me there. Bobby was
no more ready for me to leave than I was but also acknowledged the wisdom.
He also gave me three pieces of gum to help disguise the smell of smoke –
both mine and his. He asked when he’d next see me and playing coy wasn’t in
the cards. “Soon, maybe Thursday,” I said as I flipped around and gave him
a goodbye kiss.
Everyone was watching TV as I blew into the house. “Kind of late, aren’t
you?” mom stated to which I replied “not really” while heading into the
bathroom.
“We went jogging,” I lied, “so I’m taking a shower.” I figured some soap,
shampoo, and some good bath oils would obliterate all wayward odors. By the
time I joined the others in the living room I was fresh as a rose –
actually I smelled exactly like a rose. When mom asked about my evening I
simply retorted “the best”.
Sleep does not come easy when your day has amazed – and today had amazed.
Bobby seemed as interested in me suddenly as I had been in him for a
century. He’d kissed me – the first serious kiss I’d ever had – and I’d
smoked (well, kind of smoked) – a cigarette. None of this would sit well
with any of my family but at the moment that carried no weight whatsoever.
I wanted Bobby as my boyfriend and he just might be seeing me as his
girlfriend. That mattered – and absolutely nothing else.
I got out again on Thursday evening right after loading the dishwasher. I
even put on some jogging shorts and shoes to help with my charade. I added
a little make-up but knew that I’d need caution here – no point in begging
too many questions from mom. She asked when I’d be home and I said about
nine without any observable resistance. I had a potential of two and a half
delirious hours ahead with Bobby and while my feet raced, my heart raced
faster.
I worried that maybe he wouldn’t be home but that was alleviated quickly as
the now familiar hood stood raised. I kind of snuck up on him and patted
his butt – a very cute butt I must say – and he turned around a little
startled. He gave me the sweetest little peck and then wasted no time in
closing down the shop and ushering me again to the back yard. This time
though we settled at the picnic table – both on the side facing the house.
He tossed his Marlboros and Zippo on the table as he dumped out the ashtray
into a nearby gnarly old coffee can. He shook one out and lit it –
obviously waiting to see what I would do. What the hell. I reached for the
pack. If I’m going to hang with a smoker I’d best just join the club – or
at least pretend to. Just as I was tapping one out in the same fashion he
had, he said, “Do you really want to learn to smoke”
“Sure, why not?”
“Many reasons which you already know – most people find it nasty and your
family will disown you,” he retorted, “but if you hold on a minute – I’d
love to corrupt you,” and he dashed back indoors.
Moments later he re-emerged with a different pack of cigarettes, but not
nearly so familiar looking.
“What are those?” I questioned.
“My sister’s Mistys – they’re FNPs.” My inquisitive look followed by
repeating his words elicited more information. Laughing he said, “You know,
FMPs – fucking near paper. These are fine to learn to smoke with but
they’re so worthless. I really don’t know why anyone would bother to smoke
them.” He began to unwrap them but I interrupted.
“Let me try,” I demanded. He relinquished the pack and I then went through
the motions I’d watched him perform two days prior.
“Not bad for a rank amateur,” he complimented me as I tapped out a couple
of filters – white filters, I noted.
“So now what should I do, teacher?” I teased.
This time he gave me a quick explanation of smoking, which while
elementary, was in some ways new to me. He said I’d done just fine sucking
the other evening but that smoking means inhaling. In other words, once the
smoke is in your mouth it needs to continue on down into your lungs.
Remarkably, this had never occurred to me. Of course that’s why real
smokers blow out streams rather than clouds. It’s inhaling, he explained,
that’s the reason for the Mistys. Inhaling is a real assault on your lungs
until you get use to it and these are so mild that they won’t jolt you so
badly.
“Let’s go,” I said, but he continued.
“First, I want you to watch me. After I take a puff see how I suck it all
the way in. What I want you to do when I give you a light is not even
really drag much at all. Just pull hard enough on the cigarette to make
sure that it lights and then spit out whatever smoke you’ve taken in. On
the next puff, get rid of some it and then attempt to inhale the remainder
into your lungs. It’s going to jolt you so don’t be surprised.”
“Okay, okay, enough already,” I replied. “Give me a light please.”
So that’s what happened. He offered his flame and I managed to get the
cigarette lit. Even with that minute amount of smoke I could tell it was
lighter and tasted different. It had kind of a minty flavor to it – less
unpleasant, or at least less harsh, than two days earlier. The next puff,
though, was the real test. I took a second drag and expelled some of the
smoke and then just breathed in. It felt like a foreign invasion but this
gentler smoke didn’t choke me or anything but I did kind of spit it back
out. This time however the spit was no longer formless. It looked a little
bit like how Bobby exhaled.
Inhaling was a trip. At first it made me feel kind of light-headed and
giddy and of course oh so cool. Half way down however the light-headedness
turned to dizziness and my stomach began to turn. “You’re looking a little
green there, missy,” Bobby laughed as he took the cigarette from me and
crushed it out. “That’s enough for now I think,” he said and I had to agree
with him. I was just a spectator as he finished up his Marlboro.
Moments later I felt his hand kind of brush against my butt and rest on my
thigh pulling me towards him. I didn’t resist. I laid my head down quickly
on his shoulder and then looked up into his eyes just as he bent to kiss
me. It was such a sweet kiss – not awkward like a couple of days earlier
but much more a shared experience of two people who were ready to begin a
relationship. It lasted forever; it didn’t last long enough.
We necked for maybe fifteen or twenty minutes, taking the occasional sip of
Coke here and there. “I think I’ve wanted to kiss you since you were five,”
he offered.
“I was as ready then as I am now,” I replied. Those words seem to jolt us
both and the necking became a lot more aggressive. Feelings rushed through
my body that were simply unfamiliar but totally not unwelcome. I knew in
time I’d give myself to Bobby, but I’d known that even when I didn’t know
what it meant.
This rapture was suddenly interrupted by his sister, Sophia, tripping down
the back stairs heading for the garage to get her car. She worked the eight
to two AM shift at Perkins during the summer and she was cutting it close.
Cigarette dangling and searching her purse for her keys, she took little if
any note of us. It did however bring momentary closure to our passion.
As Bobby reached for his cigarettes I did for mine as well. While my heart
was a flutter, my stomach was now settled. I wasn’t wimping out at this
point. Bobby lit us both up again and this time I found the process
smoother. I inhaled the first puff and produced a respectable exhale.
Nothing spectacular mind you – but respectable. This cigarette I darn near
finished and did so uneventfully – which of course was actually very
eventful. This one didn’t even taste so bad.
We still had almost an hour until I needed to be home and that hour too was
composed of more necking and a final cigarette – at least final for me. The
problem though was that it was now 8:45 and I was more than a little
ruffled up and smelled strongly of smoke. Maybe I would be lucky like the
last time but it would only be a matter of time until this gig would be up.
I used Sophia’s bathroom to clean up, reapply a little make up, and brush
my teeth four times – and then crossed my fingers. I ran all the way home
“to prove that I’d been jogging” and again successfully parlayed that into
the safety of my bathroom. It was very clear, however, that this strategy
had severe limits and that things would change soon – how they would change
was more uncertain.
Around three the next afternoon, the phone rang and mom got to it before I
did. She instantly recognized Bobby’s voice and was clearly happy to hear
from him. She did affirm however that Tommy wasn’t home only to assume a
quizzical look as she said, “Oh yes, Dinah’s right here. I’ll get her”.
Handing the phone to me, it was very clear that the inquisition would
commence shortly.
Bobby called to ask me out that night. Even though I had yet to go out on a
real one-on-one date with any guy, I said nonchalantly that I was sure it
would be fine, and yes, 7:00 would work, and a movie would be great. The
receiver was not yet in place when the questions came fast and furious.
“We haven’t heard from Bobby in more than a year and now he wants to take
you out. What gives? You’ve never been given permission to date in the past
and you don’t even ask? What’s going on here?
I knew that I had my work cut out for me. I was going to go on this date
regardless but best if I do so with mom as an ally. The truth wasn’t going
to get me very far so I needed a story. I told her that I’d run into him at
the store a week ago and that he honked at Jeri and me while we were
jogging the previous evening and we’d had fun catching up. I finished the
tale with, “and he was always my friend too when he was around so of course
I was sure you wouldn’t mind”. It wasn’t a terribly enthusiastic
endorsement on her part but she did acquiesce.
Bobby picked me up at 6:50. He was anxious and, since I was ready, you
might say I was too. We played it very cool in front of my parents but I
saw my mom sniffing and turning her nose up. While his cigarettes weren’t
in his pocket, the odor was unmistakable. Nasty, she thought; nice, I
thought. They asked what time the movie would be over and Bobby said around
ten and we negotiated for a “malt stop” after so my curfew was 11. Not too
bad for a first date.
We weren’t to the corner before Bobby fired up his Marlboro and as I gave
him a questioning look he nodded to the glove compartment where the near
full pack of Mistys resided. Now this was a dilemma. Smoking clandestinely
in Bobby’s backyard was one thing but lighting up a cigarette in broad
daylight in his car quite another. I took the pack out but then clearly
hesitated.
“Hey,” I said, “I thought you couldn’t have passengers until you’re 17.”
“I pleaded with dad this morning at breakfast and he relented – `just one
passenger and only if it’s a girl – a girl I really like'”. I moved over
and put my hand on his thigh.
“I’m glad you like me” I responded. “I kind of like you too but I’m a
little chicken to smoke a cigarette this publicly – even though I’d like
to.”
“I understand completely,” he said as he pulled onto a side road and parked
in a forested area. “Feel safe enough here?” he queried with his lighter
already aflame. The movie doesn’t start until eight and it was over just
after 9:30. We had some time we could spend together. Dragging as if I
actually knew what I was doing, I inhaled effortlessly and let out a pretty
smooth exhale. He finished a second cigarette concurrent with my first and
then we had twenty minutes of fondness ahead – but not so much as to mess
up my outfit. Tonight mom would be watching.
I tried to pay some attention to the movie knowing that I’d be quizzed
about it, but mostly I paid attention to Bobby. When it let out we were
milling around outside. Bobby lit up a cigarette but I didn’t. This was way
too public and my Mistys were still in the car anyhow. We ran into several
of his friends and it was fun watching them checking me out and then
showing some recognition – at least those who knew Tommy. It was clear that
I was receiving passing grades.
I did see a couple of my junior high acquaintances and made sure that they
understood clearly that I was the date of a junior. I could see a nice
approval level there as well. In kind of a “bad boy” way, Bobby was hot and
my compatriots were readily acknowledging that – and of course he was two
years our senior. I felt like a star but it paled in comparison to the
shear excitement of being with Bobby- maybe being Bobby’s girl.
It was only 9:40 and we had a choice to make – we could head over to the
Creamery or we could go park so there wasn’t a real question. For some
weird reason I also wanted to have a cigarette. That nasty taste didn’t
seem so nasty right now and just might intertwine nicely with some deep
tongue therapy with Bobby. Now nearly dark, my self-consciousness gone, I
lit up in the parking lot. A couple of my classmates may have even seen me
– and I was hoping that they did.
We returned to out earlier rendezvous given that it was on the way back to
our house. I tossed my butt out the window heading down the road and felt
so totally cool. In moments we were entwined and this time Bobby seemed to
have more of an agenda. I felt a shiver as he slipped off my bra but
offered no resistance. His hands all over me were the most sublime
experience of my young life. I wanted him to touch me everywhere – yet
recognized that that was probably not the best idea – at least not at the
moment.
When I noticed the car clock reporting 10:30 I pushed him away. I knew he
wanted more – and for God’s sake so did I – but someone here had to be
sane. “Bobby, we have to cool it and I have to be able to look like I’ve
had a night out with a buddy. Let’s have one more cigarette, get me
presentable, and take me home. This is just the beginning. I’ve known
forever that you would be my first lover – hopefully only lover – but
everything must happen in its own good time.”
I fully expected him to acquiesce fully but was a little unprepared for
what happened next. “I’m so fuckin’ hard and so needin’ to fuck you that
I’m going to go crazy. Can you at least give me a blow job so that I keep
my sanity?” I had no ready response. That wasn’t a request I’d ever
received before. I said that I wasn’t even sure how to do that but about
that time he unzipped his pants and this interesting protrusion appeared. I
couldn’t believe its size. Instinctively I grabbed a hold of it and began
rubbing and then licking. Within seconds he was spurting and moaning and I
was just beginning to understand the power of being a woman.
Fortunately he came all over the seat but not all over me. I licked him off
as best I could while recognizing that I’d just earned another 200 bonus
points in the process. It was now 10:45, I reeked of smoke and I may have a
complement of cum, and in fifteen minutes I needed to sound like I’d had an
innocent evening out with my brother’s former best friend. Thank God I was
taking acting classes.
Getting out of the car was quite a struggle. Bobby seemed intent upon
devouring me yet again – or being devoured once again – it hardly mattered.
The problem was that he was going home to indifference. I was about to face
the inquisition. I chewed gum. I reapplied make up. I tried my best to make
my clothes not look unkempt. I was going to bat and I already had three
strikes. All that I had on my side was an overpowering desire to take
command of my life – and everyone know good offense beats good defense
every time. In a final act of defiance I slipped the Mistys into my purse.
You never knew when I might want one.
What a surprise. Mom was waiting up for me. There was no use trying to beat
the sniff test – I knew I would lose – and of course I did – INSTANTLY!
“So, tell me about your first date,” mom initiated.
“Sure. Let me get a Coke first. We had a very nice time. I’ve always liked
Bobby and he was completely the gentleman. We walked down along the river
for a few minutes before the movie and then went to the Creamery after. We
ran into a bunch of his friends and a couple of mine. It was tremendously
fun and I’d love to do it again.” I now sat back and waited for mom’s
volley.
“Well. I think that’s great. My only concern is that he’s a little old for
you and maybe not the right kind of boy.” I returned a stone face to her
comments compelling her to continue. “I mean his family is different than
ours. They don’t value education the same way we do and they just live
differently.”
`What do you mean by that?” I offered as inoffensively as I could – feeling
totally offensive.
“Well,” she continued, “you know”.
“No, tell me,” I countered.
“Come on Dinah. I can smell smoke all over you. Clearly he smokes just like
the rest of his family. You know that’s not who we are.”
“Are you telling me, mom, that smoking in and of itself is a near criminal
offense that bans someone from our presence? Are we really that narrow and
judgmental? I’d sure hate to think so.”
I’d caught mom off guard. She hadn’t anticipated the “we liberals shouldn’t
be so narrow” parry. It pretty much worked. She came back much more
oblique.
“Well, I could smell tobacco on him when he came into the house and I can
smell it on you after an evening with him. Doesn’t that bother you?” What a
perfect opportunity.
“Of course, mom, I’d prefer that he didn’t smoke but he does. I’m not about
to condemn him for that.” I’d gained “anti-smoking points” and had
simultaneously evaded the accusation of smoking myself. Twin wins.
The evening ended fairly in a conciliatory way. Mom didn’t forbid me from
ever seeing him again and I maintained what appeared to be only a tepid
interest in him. When he next called – and he would soon – I might even be
capable of accepting with what appeared to be indifference. It was looking
like I should be getting an “A” in my acting class.
The answer to the question of when I might want another Misty was now. This
wasn’t cool. I first needed to dispose of mom and then needed to find a
nice downwind location. Mom complied with an almost immediate “I’m past my
bedtime” so that at least was handled. It was now nearing midnight and
Tommy was still out so I’d need to be on the watch for him.
I kissed mom goodnight carefully concerned that she might recognize that
the smoke was not just ambient and pretended to head for bed. Once I knew
for certain that she’d retired I slipped a cigarette into my jeans pocket
and was about to head out when I realized that I had nothing to light it. A
quick and surreptitious visit to the kitchen uncovered a book of matches
and I was in business.
I headed for the alley behind the garage where I felt well protected and
soon the match and cigarette met in perfect congruence. It was maybe my
sixth or seventh cigarette all told but somehow being alone made it even
more desirable. I smoked it to the butt and wished for another but hadn’t
had that foresight. I also began to recognize what Bobby meant about FNP –
I already wanted more of a hit than I was getting. I was seriously
considering sneaking back in and getting a couple more when I saw the
headlights of Tommy’s car. I skedaddled in.
Saturday morning came way too soon. Of course I’d been awake half the night
thinking about all the sudden changes in my life and I simply couldn’t get
my brain to turn off. Half a dozen times I considered going out and having
another cigarette but I could never quite get up. On the other hand I did
seem to be getting up in another way as I gently stroked myself down south.
I’d only done this a couple of times before – and very experimentally at
that. This time it was Bobby on the inside of my eyelids and my body
recognized the difference. I’d need to change the sheets in the morning.
Arising I had two simultaneous thoughts – one was that I wouldn’t mind
having an early morning cigarette and the other was what a fool I was for
even bringing the pack home. I couldn’t jeopardize my burgeoning
relationship with Bobby over smoking – not at this point. In time it was
pretty likely that both would be a given, but securing my relationship with
Bobby was foremost and a family skirmish over smoking could be deleterious
to that effort. I’d have to cool it on the smoking – at least anywhere
where I might get caught.
Dad kidded me a bit over breakfast about having a date and Tommy was again
a bit aloof. He said something about not knowing what I could see in “that
loser Bobby”. I was offended but didn’t take the bait. Mom kept to herself
and that actually worried me more. I knew that she wasn’t buying the buddy
thing and she might even be questioning that the smoke was ambient. Women
know each other – often way too well.
We were having neighbors over that evening and dad suggested that I invite
Bobby. While the desire to see him was palpable, the environs left
something to be desired. Ours was a no smoking zone and the crowd overall
would be disapproving. It would make Bobby uncomfortable for certain and
perhaps even me. Hanging with Bobby was now synonymous with smoking for me
as well. I did agree to call and invite him and to my surprise he accepted
– nicotine restrictions and all.
I have to give Bobby way higher marks than Tommy for civility. He did his
darnedest to chat everyone up but Tommy and his buddies turned a cold
shoulder. Bobby was clearly a deserter of the athletic wars and they
weren’t about to forgive that. There were, however, a number of high school
age girls in attendance and I was pretty sure that they would have gladly
traded places with me. They weren’t looking for jocks; they were looking
for what’s in them.
After dinner I could tell that Bobby was getting pretty antsy – nicotine
deprived – and I suggested a walk. Two houses down the street and he was
dragging in relief – and two houses further I joined him with one of his
Marlboros. Yeah, it was harsher but I kind of liked that. It had some real
taste and a real kick. I’d stash away the Mistys but I was already ready
for something more substantial. We found a stairway and sat on the bottom
step, necking lightly and smoking, until our cigarettes were depleted. He
had a second and all I did was steal a couple of drags.
By the time we returned to the party most of our contemporaries had already
cut out. They were headed to a dance at a local church. I gave dad my best
“I’m your loving daughter” smile and excused ourselves to attend that same
function. We were history before mom knew we were gone. We did actually
drive down to the dance but discovered that pretty much no one else was
there either – not even St. Tommy. We had better places to go.
Bobby noticed that his tank was near empty and pulled into the Mobil
station. As he pumped gas I lit up my second Misty of the short trip. It
proved as unsatisfying as the first so I asked Bobby if he could buy me a
pack of NSFNP’s. He looked at me perplexed until I articulated “not so
fucking near paper”. He returned shortly with three packs of Marlboro Light
100’s and a package of Bic lighters. I kind of understood I was crossing a
line but I did so in near ecstasy. Henceforth my purse would never again be
without a pack, a back up, and something to ignite them with.
That was the night that I learned how to administer a blow job. It was
really quite simple given that you didn’t choke on the deposit. I didn’t. I
swallowed. Bobby swooned. He even told me that he loved me. I believed him
more when we were just necking but hearing it again was certainly nice. I
took him a bit more seriously though when he attempted to return the favor.
His hand wandered south and his fingers penetrated. It was a bit rough but
hey he needs a little coaching and practice – and I’m the one to provide
it.
His invitation to take my panties off and allow him to enter crossed the
line. I knew and he knew it but it was worth a try. I told him it was only
a matter of time but this wasn’t the time. He had no protection and I was
heading toward mid cycle. Patience. And then I gave him a hand job to thank
him for not pressuring me any further.
In between all of this activity I began to establish a relationship with my
Marlboro Light 100’s. I liked them and I thought they liked me too. We
seemed like a perfect pair. A day ago I’d cursed myself for caching a pack
of Mistys at home and now I was fully prepared to take home a pair and a
spare of these Marlboro Lights and consequences be damned. I was now
Bobby’s girl and we both smoked. As they say folks, like it or lump it.
Such bravado serves well at the witching hour but withers some with
daylight. Having disappeared under dad’s watch without curfew, I knew that
there was potential hell to pay with mom. I wasn’t wrong. I’d come in after
one and they’d both retired but I could see though that mom’s light was
still on. The piper still needed to be paid.
The good news at breakfast was that dad and Tommy were there as well and
that mom would be neutralized by that. It was only a temporary stay of
execution. Tommy headed for the gym and dad to the golf course. I wished
that I had made early plans but I hadn’t thought that far ahead. The
onslaught was about to begin and I was the slaughter.
“So Dinah, tell me about what’s going on with you and Bobby,” she began.
“This doesn’t strike me as just a couple of casual friends. I watched the
two of you together last night and he seems completely into you and you
into him. I’m a little concerned. Explain to me why I’m wrong here. I’d
love it if you could.”
The timing of truth is seldom convenient. She had me dead to rights.
“Guilty,” I said as I began to cry. “I’ve loved Bobby from the first day he
came to our house and I’m beginning to understand that he felt the same
way. We just kind of discovered each other the last few days and I’m having
feelings that I didn’t know it was possible to have.”
“I understand those feelings all too well,” mom responded, “and they
usually end up producing heartache and/or unwanted babies. Bobby is cute
and I understand his charm. That said, he’s also a guy and won’t be
satisfied until he has you in bed. That hasn’t happened yet, has it?”
Blushing for the first time, I responded.
“Of course not mom. He’s not that way,” knowing full well that he is that
way. “He’s a guy. I’ve been crazy about him as long as I can remember and I
think he feels the same way about me. Right now, mom, being with him trumps
anything else in life that I can even imagine.”
“Dinah, I worry about you in every way a mom can. I want only the best in
life for you. I worry about you being with someone older. I worry about you
being with someone who might take advantage of you. I even worry about you
being with someone who smokes. Do you understand that?”
“I do, mom, but nobody can decide for someone else what’s best for them.
It’s not Bobby’s fault that he’s older – and he isn’t by much. It’s hardly
his fault that he smokes given that his entire family does – and that
hardly makes him an evil person. Might he want to take advantage of me? Of
course – he’s a guy and it’s in their DNA to do so. I don’t care about any
of this. I’ve loved him forever and I always will.
With that mom came over and hugged me. “I just hope you don’t get hurt. And
I certainly hope that you don’t get drawn into smoking. It’s a habit that
you’ll forever regret. Promise me that will you – that you’ll leave the
cigarettes to Bobby.”
“Oh, come on mom,” I responded Ingenuously, I continud, “Can you really see
your 3.9 daughter falling for something so silly as smoking?” She smiled as
I wished I was having a cigarette at that very moment. No point, though, in
fighting tomorrow’s battles today.
Mom hesitated for a moment in thought and I simply reacted. I opened my
purse, took out a fairly full pack of Marlboro Light 100’s, retrieved my
lighter, and lit up. I took a deep drag and followed it up immediately with
another – and mom watched stunned. Still silent, I looked her in the eye
and said “Does this make me a bad person? Will you disown me for this? Does
smoking a cigarette condemn me to hell?”
She gathered herself slowly and carefully. “I forbid you to ever associate
with Bobby again. In a matter of days he’s stolen the soul of my precious
daughter. I can’t have this. Do you understand me? You’ll never see him
again.”
“I understand every word you’re saying mother and I even empathize with
them,” I stated slowly dragging on my cigarette in a way meant to disarm
her. “But hear me out. I love Bobby and I won’t allow anything to interfere
with that – not you, not Tommy, not dad, no one.” I let a long, languishing
exhale drift in her direction. “There are ways that I could fuck up my life
where you’d have every right to intervene. Loving a nice boy and smoking a
few friggin’ cigarettes shouldn’t be one of them.
“Here’s what I can promise you. I won’t let any guy – Bobby or whomever –
get in the way of my education. I want love but I want fulfillment even
more. I won’t do hard drugs but I ask you to stay off my back over smoking.
I know it isn’t smart but it’s a part of my relationship with Bobby. It
won’t likely last but if it does will you love me less? I hope not.”
And then the most unlikely thing in the world happened. She reached over
for my cigarettes, tapped one out, picked up my lighter, and whammo. My mom
– my puritanical, anti-everything, mom – flicked my Bic and then took a
deep drag which she released like a pro. She even followed that with a
double pump as I stared dumb-founded.
“Just know what you’re getting into,” she smiled wistfully.
What a strange world we live in. Suddenly mom is sharing a cigarette with
me and sounding like a sage. No lecturing, no judgments, no “I told you
so’s” – all the things that I was ready to combat are irrelevant. She’s
redefined the playing field and it’s unfamiliar to me. It’s vulnerable,
it’s complicated, and its rules are stochastic.
I will sleep with Bobby – sooner rather than later – I know that. In my
fairytales we’ll also marry and live happily ever after. But in profound
silence mom has articulated a truth that I could learn no other way – life
laughs at prediction and seldom serves the immediately inevitable.