You Can't Hurt Me

Bandaid

Race stared at the pile of assortments in front of them, the waxy plain stickers laying across his bed. Jack at the end, giving him a very expectant look.

"Um..." Race stated awkwardly, grabbing one and holding it to the light, "I love nude stickers?"

"No idiot," Jack lightly smacked him upside the head, "they're nicotine patches. And some gum to help out. They'll help with the... y'know, the ants."

Oh.

They're for his smoking.

He's quitting smoking.

Race sorta wished he had a cigarette right now.

"Thanks Jack," Race's voice rose unnaturally.

"Well go on, try one!" Jack handed him the gum and the patch.

Race hesitantly unpeeled the smooth side of wax paper, his hand hovering over his body in a debate of where to put it, then deciding his chest for that was least likely to be, well, seen.

Race squeezed his eyes shut, then nothing proceeded to happen.

"It's broken!"

Jack snickered, "they take a few hours to work. That's partly what the gums for."

Race frowned, but put the gum in his mouth, and this time the relief was immediate. It didn't cure him, he still felt antsy and still wanted a cigarette. However, instead of the itch being strong and crawling l through his body, constantly, to where it became almost unbearable, it was... duller to say the least. Like you put a bandaid over a cut and you still felt that soft dull thrum of pain, but it was significantly less.

"Oh."

Race could live like this. He didn't wanna, but he could.

Jack shifted in the bed and checked his watch, "well we gotta go. Go ahead and take the gum with you but leave the patches here."

"Why?"

"They're not really very healthy for y'a."

"Then why am I taking them!"

"Well neither is smoking Race."

Touché.

Jack loaded him in the car, he supposed the glorious "bus days" were over. Strapping into his seatbelt he anxiously chewed on the gum. The waxy relief seemed to be short lived, and Race was certain he could go through the box in a day.

At school Albert as always was waiting for him, and was not surprised when Race didn't pull out his routine cigarette and instead went straight into school.

"Jack take away the cigs?" He guessed.

Race shrugged, "yeah yeah, you were right, I shouldn't have been smoking at school. He gave me all this nicotine crap, it's nice I guess. Kinda miss the taste of cigarette on my lips."

Albert frowned and fished through his backpack. He pulled out a small jar of lollipops.

Race gasped and smiled eagerly, "weed pops!"

Albert smacked him upside the head, "no you idiot, I just made some regular lollipops with my mom. I figured I'd pass them around lunch, but maybe... I don't know, maybe it will help?"

Race couldn't deny he was slightly disappointed the lollipops didn't have weed, while weed wasn't his favorite he would've liked the distraction. Though he was sure everyone would have been able to tell he was high and Jack would've been more mad so maybe it was for the best.

He grabbed the simple pinkish lollipop and licked it tentatively, the strawberry flavor was sweet and sort of perfect. He placed it in his mouth and immediately that paper-like sensation was back, with a sweet touch. It was thinner and didn't have the smokey hint he always loved but it certainly was enjoyable in its own way.