Just practicing, Part 2

This fictional account contains adult language and themes.  If such language
and themes offend you, please do not read further.  The persons and events
described in this work are purely fictional.  Any similarity to actual
persons or events is strictly coincidental.  Copyright 2001 by SSTORYMAN.
All rights reserved.  Permission is hereby granted to reproduce this story in
any form and for any purpose as long as this notice is reproduced and no
financial remuneration is received, directly or indirectly, by the person
reproducing it.

JUST PRACTICING

2.	Hard Learning.

   Megan and Christi went to Chelsea and Brenda's apartment.  Dr.
Lowdermilk's admonition upset Megan.  She didn't want to fail.  She naively
assumed her learning process with Chelsea would be short and sweet.  She'd
pick up a few tips about smoking, incorporate them into her stage actions,
and that would be it.  She was wrong.

   Before doing it on stage she'd tried smoking in her room.  Her friend from
Econ gave her some cigarettes and a disposable lighter, but no instruction.
Her first few attempts were a disaster.  She got the cigarettes lit, and
puffed.  But she knew nothing about inhaling, and little about exhaling or
handling a cigarette like a smoker.  Dr. Lowdermilk's criticisms were
well-founded.  She _did_ look like someone carrying a snake, or a lit stick
of dynamite, on stage.

   Christie went with her.  It was a chance to hang out with the theater
group.  Theater majors were party animals and she was mesmerized by the hope
of being part of their group.  Megan welcomed Christi's company.  She felt
nervous being on the home turf of the other girl who so desperately wanted
the role of Harriet Ginsburg.

   Chelsea, Brenda and Mick were hospitable as could be.  They offered the
freshmen beer.  Christie was thrilled.  It was her entree into an upperclass
clique she'd dreamed being part of.  Megan was less impressed.  Unlike
Christi, she felt the trepidation of having to learn to smoke.

   The upperclassmen talked about smoking; how fun it is; how easy it is; and
so on.  Brenda explained how to light up, hold a cigarette, and drag on it.
Then she got to inhaling.

   "Here's the thing, Megan" the petite blond explained.  "Dr. Lowdermilk
wants you to look like a smoker.  That means you've _got_ to inhale, to be
proficient in pulling smoke into your lungs before you exhale.  Everything
else is easy.  But inhaling; well, it's another story."

   "What do you mean?" Megan asked.

   Brenda smiled.  "Inhaling properly takes practice.  You don't look like a
smoker by just holding a cigarette correctly.  Smokers breathe in smoke like
it's air.  They don't think about it.  It's second nature."  She narrowed her
eyes.  "To make it second nature, you have to work at it."

   Megan frowned.  "Well, how long will it take?"

   Chelsea piped up.  "The first performance is two weeks away.  If you work
hard, you can probably do a credible job of smoking by opening night."

   "Oh," Megan muttered.  "I didn't realize it'd be so complicated."

   "That's the great thing," Brenda interrupted.  "It's not complicated.  But
it takes practice.  You need to buy a carton of cigarettes and work on it as
much as you can till opening night.  Like I said, it has to be second nature
or Dr. Lowdermilk won't be happy."  She paused for dramatic effect.  "Aim to
smoke at least ten cigarettes a day.  But that's just for starters.
Eventually you'll need to smoke even more than that if you really want to get
it right."

   Megan stared in disbelief.  "Ten cigarettes a day!  You're kidding,
right?"

   "No, she's not kidding," Chelsea smiled.  "And you need to start right
away.  Dr. Lowdermilk wants to see improvement.  Remember, my ass is on the
line, too.  He expects me to turn you into a believable smoker.  If you fall
short, he'll be pissed at me as well as you."

   "I don't know," Megan waffled.  "That sounds like more than I bargained
for."

   Chelsea smiled.  "No problem.  If you can't do it, I'll call Dr.
Lowdermilk."  She took on a caustic tone.  "I'll tell him you want out.  I'd
be glad to take the role.  It's no secret that I should've gotten the part
anyway."

   "And I told Dr. Lowdermilk I thought you should have it," Megan lied.  She
paused.  "Okay.  You're right.  I _have_ to do whatever it takes to play the
part.  So, where do I begin?"

   Mick interrupted.  "Tell her what cigarettes to buy."  He winked.  "After
all, you want her to start with the right brand.  Right?"

   "Yes, absolutely, Mick's right," Chelsea nodded.  She picked up her
Marlboro Lights 100's.  "This is a good brand to start with.  They're not too
strong, but they have enough smoke to make you look like a smoker.  After you
practice, that is," she added.  "Brenda smokes Benson & Hedges, but they're
too strong for a beginner.  Here's a pack of Marlboro Lights 100's to get you
started.  You can stop at the store tomorrow and buy yourself a carton to
keep going."

   Megan sighed.  "Gosh, thanks, Chelsea.  This is really nice of you."

   "No problem," Chelsea grinned pleasantly.  "I'm just happy to help.  Now,
let's try it."

   She gave Megan an unlit Marlboro Light 100 and coached her on how to hold
it, on letting it rest in her lips, and so on.  Finally, Chelsea announced,
it was time to light her up.

   "First, watch how _we_ light up.  Pay attention.  After we fire up ours,
you can try it."

   Christi spoke up.  She'd been sitting quietly.  "Hey, can I try it, too?"

   Brenda smiled at this unexpected request.  "Of course, Christi," she
beamed.  "It's a great idea.  You can support Megan by smoking with her as
she practices.  Have you ever smoked?"

   "No," Christi said eagerly.  "But I want to learn, too."

   "Great, Christi," she smiled.  She gave the other freshman girl an unlit
cigarette, too.  "Okay, after Megan lights up, you can, too."

   "Cool," Christi enthusiastically agreed, holding the Marlboro in her
fingers.  This was an opportunity to ingratiate herself into this group of
upperclassmen.  She wasn't about to pass it up.

   One by one, Brenda, Chelsea and Mick lit up.  Their cigarettes rose to
ninety degree angles in their mouths as they touched the flame to the tobacco
end.  Then they sucked.  They blew out uninhaled clouds of smoke from the
corners of their mouths and removed them.  Their usual light up procedure was
to inhale the first puff, but it was better to show the beginners a process
they could imitate.  No inhaling.  Not yet.

   Megan lit up successfully.  From her prior experiments, she was used to
the taste of the smoke.  Christi found it bitter, but said nothing.  She had
no intention of showing discomfort.

   "How is it?" Chelsea asked.  Without thinking, she took a defiant drag
before turning her head to release a perfect combined mouth and nostril
exhale toward her two students.

   "Um, I'm okay with it," Megan offered.  "How about you, Christi?"

   "Yeah, I'm fine," the brunette freshman lied.  She was determined to be
cool.

   "Great," Brenda cut in.  "Damn, Megan!  You look pretty comfortable
holding that cigarette.  But the key is to learn to inhale.  Have you ever
tried that?"

   The frizzy-haired freshman gave a quizzical look.  "I don't think so.  Can
you explain again exactly what you're talking about?"

   "Inhaling is breathing smoke into your lungs," Brenda reiterated.
"Smokers inhale.  It's what we do," she added, with a wry glance at Mick and
Chelsea.  "At first it might make you sick.  But your lungs get used to it,
and then it's fuckin' great.  Easy as pie.  Like this."  She took a modest
drag on her B&H, opened her mouth for a split second, and then purposefully
sucked the smoke deep inside her chest.  She smiled, pursed her lips, and
released a long, steady, milky white stream of exhaled smoke into the air.
"That's how it's done!"

   Megan nodded.  "I knew I was doing it wrong.  So _that's_ how you do it!"

   Brenda smiled.  "It sure is.  But go slow.  Smoke's a foreign substance.
Your lungs aren't used to it.  It takes time to be able to tolerate it.  On
your first few inhales, you might feel like coughing, or experience some
lightheadedness.  Don't worry.  It passes.  Don't overdo, but be persistent.
In a few days you'll be inhaling like a champ!"

   Megan raised her cigarette to her lips for a small drag.  She opened her
mouth the way Brenda did.  Slowly, carefully, she pulled smoke into her
chest.  She didn't cough, but a strange look appeared on her pretty face.
She pursed her lips to exhale.  The force of her breathing out almost
effortlessly carried an unbroken flow of smoke from her lips.  She reached
for the ashtray and tapped off an ash.  But her fingers were shaking, and her
complexion turned pasty.

   "Megan, you're white as a sheet," Christi said with alarm.

   "Uh, I'm okay," Megan said bravely.  "Wow!  It felt really weird!"

   "It's strange at first," Chelsea broke in.  "But those feelings pass.  You
get used to them."  She smiled.  "You did okay, Megan.  Now try doing that
three or four times every time you have a cigarette.  In a week or so, it'll
become second nature."

   "I want to try it," Christi interrupted.  "If Megan can do it, so can I."
The impetuous girl put her cigarette in her lips.  She copied Megan's
approach, but began coughing as she inhaled.  Caught in her throat and
windpipe, the smoke triggered a strong series of cough reflexes.  She gagged
and turned green while she vainly trying to catch her breath.  "Oh my God,"
she gasped.

   Brenda smiled.  "That's why I said go slow.  Don't worry, Christi.  Have
some beer."

   Christi gulped her Miller Lite.  "Oh my God," she gagged.  "I feel like
such a dunce."

   "We all did the same thing our first time," Mick reassured her.  "Don't
worry.  You'll pick it up.  Everyone does.  It gets easier real fast."

   The neophytes finished their cigarettes gingerly.  Megan successfully
inhaled twice more, but Christi tried only one more feeble attempt.  Before
they left, Chelsea gave the novices a few parting works of advice.

   "To smoke properly, the most important thing is practice.  I can't
emphasize it enough.  Practice, practice, practice.  There's no other way.
Budget your smoking.  Have a minimum of ten cigarettes a day.  Start today.
Practice inhaling as much as you can.  Can you guys smoke in your dorm room?
It's not a non-smoking dorm, is it?"

   The girls shook their heads 'no.'

   "Fabulous," Chelsea smiled.  "Get an ashtray and get started.  In fact,
borrow one of ours.  We've got tons.  Brenda, get a couple ashtrays to loan
the girls."  As Brenda retreated to the next room, Chelsea went on.  "It'll
be easier working together.  You can encourage and help each other."  She
smiled at Christi.  "You'll be a big help to Megan."  She nodded.  "Okay,
we'll get together again in a couple days and you can audition for us.  We'll
give you more pointers once you master the basics.  Remember, at least ten a
day for the next week.  Got it?"

   Megan spoke up.  "Chelsea, I appreciate this.  I mean it.  You didn't have
to help me.  I know you wanted my part in the play, so it's really great of
you to help.  I don't want to disappoint Dr. Lowdermilk.  But now I think I'm
on the right track.  I'm on my way!"

   Chelsea smiled.  "We're glad to lend a hand, Megan.  The play and its
success are the most important thing.  And I agree; you're definitely on your
way!"

   After the freshmen left, Brenda let out a snide laugh.  "Oh God, you're
such a bullshitter," she said to Chelsea, shaking her finger.  "'Oh, Megan,
you're definitely on your way!'  Yeah, she's on her way all right; on her way
to becoming an addicted smoker.  And we got a bonus!  I never figured we'd
pick up her stupid little roommate to boot.  This is fabulous!"

   "I feel kinda bad about that," Chelsea admitted.  "I don't have anything
against Christi.  She's a nobody.  We shouldn't be dragging her into this."

   Brenda frowned.  "Fuck!  Why not?  I don't feel at all bad.  Little
Christi wants to be a theater person.  You saw it on her face.  If you told
her to strip naked and suck Mick's dick, she'd have done it.  She'd have done
anything we asked!"

   "Hey, that's an idea," Mick quipped.  "You should've asked Christi to suck
my dick!"

   "I knew _you'd_ like that," Brenda laughed.  "A minimum of ten a day.
Next time we'll up it to a full pack a day.  I once read that addiction sets
in after smoking only a couple hundred cigarettes.  In two weeks, neither of
them will be able to quit, even if they wanted to."

   "Yeah, I know.  And I hope like hell Megan _wants_ to quit," Chelsea said
with an evil grin.  "And I hope she'll go through hell trying."

   "You never know.  Some of us don't want to quit.  We like to smoke.  And
we love having company, having other people to smoke with us.  Right, Mick?"

   "Uh, whatever you say, Brenda.  Like Megan, I feel a little uncomfortable.
We could be changing the rest of those poor girls' lives forever."

   "For the better, Mick," Brenda laughed, kissing him on the cheek while
reaching for her B&H's.  "We're definitely changing them for the better!"

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   Megan sat in her room.  Brenda's ashtray was on her desk.  It was eleven
thirty that night.  She'd had one cigarette in her room that evening, but it
was time for another.

   "We have to practice, Christi," she announced.  "I need to.  But you don't
have to."

   "No, I want to help," her roommate proclaimed.  "I really do."

   "I find this amusing, Christi.  Tell me.  Are you sucking up to Chelsea?
Is that it?"

   "No," Christi protested, looking like she got her hand caught in the
cookie jar.  "I just want to help you.  That's all.  They said it'll help if
I work with you on this."

   "It's fine with me.  I just want you to be clear.  You don't _have_ to do
this."

   "Megan, shut up and hand me a cigarette," Christi sighed.  "If you're
doing it, I am, too.  That's the end of the discussion."

   Taking one, Megan gave Christi the Marlboro Lights 100's.  She lit her
cigarette, and handed Christi the lighter.  Each girl shallowly inhaled after
an initial puff.  They smiled at each another in embarrassment.

   "We're doing okay.  Don't you think?"

   "Sure," Christi smiled back.  "I think we're doing fine."

   There was a knock on the door.  In walked Becki Brill, their floor R. A.

   Becki frowned seeing the roommates smoking.  "Someone said they smelled
smoke coming from this room earlier.  What the hell are you girls doing?  You
guys don't smoke!"

   Megan smiled.  "We're just practicing.  "Becki, I got the lead in
'Reckless,' the theater department play.  In the play my character smokes.
Dr. Lowdermilk says I have to learn to smoke to play her properly.  That's
why I'm doing this.  I'm not a smoker or anything."

   "I see," Becki nodded.  She was a pretty freckled redhead with an impish
smile.  "And what about you, Christi?  What's your excuse?"

   "Oh, I'm helping Megan," the brunette replied.  "We thought it'd be good
for Megan to have someone to smoke with."

   Becki nodded again.  "Okay.  Well, let me see you smoke.  Show me, Megan."

   Megan raised the cigarette to her mouth for a modest drag.  She opened her
mouth and sucked the smoke inside, held it a couple seconds, and released a
thin stream.

   Becki laughed.  "Not bad, but you do need work.  Dr. Lowdermilk's right.
You should work on it.  It's definitely not believable; at least, not yet."

   Megan squirmed.  She hoped for a better evaluation.  "You smoke, don't
you, Becki?"

   "Oh, yeah, sure," she answered casually.  "My roommate Laurie and I both
do."  

   The freshmen nodded.  They knew that.  Laurie was a petite Asian-American
girl who, like Becki, was a senior.  Becki and Laurie had adjoining singles
on their floor.  Technically they weren't roommates, though their R. A. Becki
always referred to Laurie that way.

   "Christi and I are trying to get better at it before the play," Megan went
on.

   Christi piped up.  "Maybe Megan and I can come to your room to practice
with you and Laurie sometime," she said hopefully.  She was constantly
looking for ways to connect with upperclassmen she admired.  "Is that okay?"

   Becki grinned.  "Yeah, sure.  Lots of freshmen on the floor who smoke hang
out in our room.  But be careful.  If you hang out with smokers, you might
turn into smokers yourselves."

   Megan smiled assuredly.  "Oh, we're just practicing," she repeated.  "I
have no intention of becoming a smoker.  My parents would kill me."

   Becki shrugged.  "People change in college, Megan.  I started smoking
freshman year.  I never intended to become a smoker.  At first I only smoked
at parties.  Then I started smoking when I studied.  Then I smoked at meals,
too.  By the end of fall term, I couldn't stop.  I was smoking all the time."
She let out a philosophical sigh.  "My mom didn't like it, but so what?  I
was done asking her permission to live my life.  She eventually adjusted.
Parents always do."

   "That won't happen to us," Megan forcefully reiterated.  "This is just for
the theater."

   "For me, I just wanted to fit in," Becki echoed.  "The issue isn't _how_
smoking starts, girls.  The important thing is that it _does_ start.  And
once it starts, smoking doesn't let you go very easy.  Just be careful.
That's my advice."

   "We'll be careful," Christi naively agreed.  "But we would like to visit
you and Laurie and smoke with you guys occasionally, if that's okay."

   Becki smiled.  "Sure.  Like I said, a bunch of the freshmen on our floor
hang out in our room and smoke at night.  If you want to come, bring your
cigarettes and just show up."

   When Becki left, Megan turned to Christi.  "God, I don't know about this,"
she muttered.  "I'm worried.  It sounded like Becki was warning us."

   "Shut up and take a drag, Megan," Christi laughed.  "Harriet Ginsburg must
forge ahead.  She has to learn to smoke.  Becki's feeding us pure bullshit.
We can quit anytime we want.  But for now, we have to learn to do this."  She
returned her cigarette to her lips for another drag.  She pulled the smoke
into her lungs and exhaled.  It was becoming easier already.  "Come on.
Let's go, Harriet.  Get with it!"

   Megan sighed.  "You're right."  She, too, put her cigarette between her
lips and drew on it.  Sucking the smoke inside was still unpleasant.  Somehow
she'd learn how, and do it right.

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