Papercut (kellic)

Chapter 4: Cigarettes and Him

Sleep that night was not enjoyable. It was tossing and turning, and waking up sweating or crying. But not unusual.

Sometime in the middle of the night I must have gotten up and brought Sasha into bed with me, because I woke up with her asleep in the crook of my knee. Her light snores and little kicks were enough to put a small smile on my face when I got up. I left my room and closed the door as lightly as possible so she wouldn't wake.

One thing was on my mind on the drive to school. I needed to get my tin from the sports center. I knew I had to do it at lunch though. I had woken up a little late today, and barely had enough time to get to class before the bell.

The day ticked by incredibly slowly. By the time the bell rang for lunch I was anxiously tapping my feet under my desk. It was probably annoying to everyone else, but I couldn't stop.

The walk to the sports center seemed to take way longer than usual. I couldn't wait to have them in my hands again.

The thing is, I wouldn't have been cutting until lunch anyway. But I felt a comfort that is hard to describe by just having them in my bag. I could reach into my bag during class and feel the cool metal brush against my hand like an unspoken promise. They were always there just in case. And now I needed them back.

I pulled open the door like an excited shopper on Black Friday. But to my dismay, the room was empty. It couldn't be. But it was. I searched frantically across the ground on my hands and knees, right on the edge of panic.

A chuckle came from behind me. "Looking for this?" the voice of none other than Vic Fuentes spoke to me. In between his fingers, was a mint tin. My mint tin.

I found it almost humorous the way he held it between his pointer and middle finger. Like a cigarette. Two addictions meeting in one subconscious moment. My brain finally caught up to the fact that Vic had my tin. My lifeboat, in his hands.

"Vic, that's mine. Give it to me now," I growled at him. I stood up from the dirty floor and brushed myself off, in a sad attempt to intimidate him. Neither of us were very tall, but I still don't think it worked.

"Hmmmm," he pretended to think, "nah."

"Listen. Save yourself the time of giving me the whole 'It Gets Better' speech. You can't do anything. I know you probably want to be a hero, but it's a lost cause here. So I suggest you give me that back and leave. Forget you ever saw anything," I said calmly. I had been here a few times before. Only strangers in passing who had seen my scars for a split second when my sleeve rode up. Always the same old story. I could anticipate anything he might've said.

However, I did not anticipate the hollow laugh he let out at the end of my speech. "I'm not trying to save you princess. I'm just trying to mess with you. You can have them back and bleed yourself dry for all I care, I just have one condition," he said.

That was a new one. "Okay...?" I said trying to seem careless.

"Have a smoke with me Kellin."

"I obviously don't smoke. I never will. It's disgusting and idiotic," I snapped back.

"Aw. That's too bad. Well I guess you aren't getting this back then," he said, holding the box up to the light.

"Why do you even want me to do this Vic?" I questioned.

"Sometimes I don't want to smoke alone. You seem to be the only person around. That and I'm bored," he said. I gave him a skeptical look. "Or I could just flush 'em," he continued.

I didn't see any other option. Vic really didn't seem like he was joking, even with his nonchalant tone. It's not like I would be addicted or harmed just from doing it once. And I was craving my razors right now. I would've done anything to get them back.

"Fine," I sighed. He won. Vic raised his eyebrows and smirked in an incredibly annoying gesture. He walked over and sat down on the floor next to me, motioning for me to do the same.

He reached into the front pocket of his baggy jeans and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a black lighter. He flipped the pack upside down and hit it against the palm of his hand. "I'm packing them," he explained when I gave him a confused look. Even though it sounds stupid, I was a little embarrassed about not knowing. He opened the pack and slid out a stick.

I don't think I had noticed how nervous I was until I saw the actual thing. What did I have to worry about? It was just one.

Vic lifted the cigarette and pushed it between my lips. I definitely wasn't expecting that at all. But still, I left it there. I found myself fascinated in his movements. He lifted the lighter up right below the end. He brought his other hand up and softly rested it against my cheek. He cupped his hand around the unlit end. His hand was cold against my skin, but there was some sort of warm electricity it sent through my body. I was so out of my head I hardly even thought about it when he flicked the lighter and lit the cigarette. His brows were slightly furrowed like he was concentrating.

"Breathe in. Breathe all the way to your lungs, not just into your mouth. And I wouldn't recommend breathing in to much," he said. For some reason his joking tone was gone. He was serious. And I felt like doing what he said. I almost felt scared. Almost.

I inhaled slowly. The feeling was foreign. I could feel the heat of the smoke against the back of my throat and in my lungs. The taste was foul, but weak enough to handle. I did as Vic said and only breathed in a little. Before I could do anything, Vic reached up and pulled the cigarette from my lips. I stared at him, my parted lips now feeling empty.

"You can breathe out Kellin."

I had almost forgotten. In reality maybe I was waiting for him to tell me to. Slowly, I let the smoke leave my lips. I felt like I was in a trance as I watched the grey wisps leave my mouth. They made abstract shapes in the air, dancing together in the light from the window. My trance was broken by a tickling in my throat. I let out a few coughs and it went away. That was it. No nausea or vomiting like in the anti-smoking commercials.

"That wasn't so hard was it?" Vic spoke up. He was staring at me. I didn't respond. He brought the same cigarette to his mouth and breathed it in. His eyes fluttered shut when he inhaled. I hadn't thought we would be sharing. In my lacking knowledge I didn't think that was something you did with cigarettes.

Vic opened his mouth and blew the smoke right into my face. I flinched a little, not expecting this. He laughed, breaking the spell of seriousness and silence that had seemed to consume us the past few minutes.

"And that's how it done," he smiled. He reached into his pocket and pulled out my tin, pushing it in my direction rather dramatically. I hadn't really thought he would give it back. It's not what the average person would do. Everyone wants to be a hero. I guess Vic didn't. It was refreshing. Maybe he wasn't so terrible after all. Then again, he was the person who took it from me in the first place.

Vic stood up and walked to the door. He kept the cigarette with him. I guess he wouldn't make me smoke any more. "See you around Kellin," was his last remark before the door slammed shut behind him. I was left in silence, feeling confused and in shock.

Vic was strange. Then again, so was I. The events of today were probably the most interesting thing to happen to me in months.

Really the most abnormal part of it all was my last realization. I no longer felt like cutting myself this lunch period.

I AM SO SORRY. I have been so ridiculously busy the past couple days, I had absolutely zero time to write. Also I had to take the SAT on Saturday, which was hell. I've averaged around a 1450 on my practice exams, so I hope I do well. Anyway, hopefully I won't be super busy again anytime soon.
(I ended up getting a 1490 and got into 8 universities)
~Lauren
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