Prompt: Silas goes to tell Ray about him smoking
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Silas fidgeted nervously with the pack of cigarettes in his hand. He didn't know how Ray would react. But he knew Ray would help him.
He'd tried to kick the habit on his own, but he'd never quite been able to. He'd been smoking since he was a kid, on and off. His dad did, his friends did, so he picked it up to fit in. It made him look tougher back in his old neighborhood, and he desperately needed that because he was so small.
But he wasn't there anymore. And now he knew just how bad it was for him. And he knew Ray didn't approve.
Silas shoved the pack into his pocket and went into the house. He found Ray sitting in the living room, the TV muted as he talked on the phone.
"No, that's great. I can do that. Sure." Ray leaned back and noticed Silas. "Hey, I have to go. My nephew needs something. Oh, haha, hilarious. See you next week."
"Friend?" Silas said, just to start a conversation.
"An ex I stayed on good terms with. She's visiting town next week, wanted to get dinner. Make plans with Garrett or your friends for Tuesday. I'll be out," Ray said. "Now, I know you didn't come in here to ask about my phone conversations. What do you need?"
Silas opened his mouth and then shut it, suddenly more anxious than before. He didn't want to disappoint Ray. He didn't want Ray to be mad at him.
But Garrett's gentle "He'll help you" from earlier in the day rang in his ears. Garrett was right. Ray would help him.
"I gotta, uh, tell you something." Silas rubbed the back of his neck. "Shit, you're gonna get mad."
"Maybe I will. But I can be mad and understanding at the same time. So, out with it," Ray said.
Silas was more worried about Ray being disappointed than mad. Ray had so much faith in him. Silas hated feeling like he'd let Ray down.
"I, well, I..." Silas let out a frustrated noise and pulled the cigarettes out of his pocket, tossing the pack on the floor at Ray's feet. "I snuck 'em again. A lot. But I wanna quit. Couldn't do it on my own."
"Okay," Ray said, picking up the pack.
"Okay?" Silas said in surprise.
"Okay," Ray repeated, looking up at him. "What, you think I was born yesterday? I knew you were sneaking them. I was going to bring it up to you, but then you started spending time with Garrett and I wanted to see if he would talk you out of it. I was going to bring it up by the end of the summer if I still suspected."
"You ain't mad?" Silas asked cautiously.
"I'm mad you grew up with people who let a child smoke cigarettes and made you too afraid to ask for help. I'm not mad at you, though," Ray said. He set the pack on the coffee table. "There are a lot of things to help people quit. We'll find what works for you."
"You should be mad," Silas said, still unable to believe just how calm Ray was. "I lied to you. I snuck cigarettes when you said no."
"And I understand that no one stopped you from getting addicted to them at a young age. I understand you grew up in a situation where doing those things and then admitting to them would put you in danger. So what's the point in getting mad at you? You came to me for help, not judgment," Ray said. He stood up, crossing his arms but still managing to look at ease. "You have to be honest with me from now on if you're serious about quitting, though, okay? I need to know if you pick one up."
"Sure, yea, I guess," Silas said, dropping his gaze.
"Si, I'm glad you finally told me. I'm not going to punish you for admitting you need help," Ray said.
Silas shifted nervously. "I don't want to be out of breath when I hike."
"I don't want you to be either," Ray said. "So starting tomorrow, we find what helps you. If it's a nicotine patch or nicotine gum, fine. As long as it's not cigarettes, we'll find a way to work you away from nicotine."
Silas felt and overwhelming gratitude towards those words. He still struggled to understand how people like Ray and Garrett could be so kind to him, even when he screwed up over and over again.
Ray noticed Silas's expression and reached out, slinging an arm around Silas's shoulders and pulling him closer. Silas was glad he felt no impulse to push Ray away, or flinch.
"We'll figure it out," Ray said. "You asked for help, Silas. It's a start. Quit being so hard on yourself."
"Thanks, Ray," Silas mumbled, dropping his gaze.
"That's what I'm here for. To nag the shit out of you and help you when you need it," Ray said. "But I'm not making you dinner on Tuesday. You're going to have to help yourself there."
"I'll just cook something," Silas said. "Ain't gonna burn it like you would, either."
"Hey, I'm not a bad cook. I just get distracted sometimes," Ray said, shoving Silas away from himself playfully. He reached in his pocket and pulled out some money, passing it into Silas's hands. "Head down to the store and buy yourself some gum. I know people who used gum to help them quit. If that doesn't work, we'll go from there. It's a start. You're going to kick the habit, Silas."
He said it with no doubt in his voice, and Silas felt helpful. Maybe he really would kick it. Then he could hike the tallest damn mountain he could find with Garrett, and without being out of breath, they could look at the stars, closer than they'd ever been.
He could go for runs with Ray around the neighborhood without needing to stop to catch his breath. Maybe he'd even beat Ray when they raced from the end of the street back to the house.
"When I get back, maybe we can practice cooking. I guess," Silas said.
Ray sat back on the couch. "Only if you admit I'm a good cook. I'll text you some ingredients to pick up at the store. Get going, punk ass."
"Sure, asshole," Silas said, and couldn't help but smile a little.
Ray returned it, confident Silas would kick the smoking habit. As frustrated as he was that Silas had lied and done it behind his back so many times, he would keep his patience and always help Silas out.
