Losing It, Part 2

This fictional account contains adult language and sexual 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 2002 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 or
using it.

The author gratefully acknowledges that some inspiration for this story came
from a 1998 story entitled "Weighty Problems" written by an anonymous author
posted elsewhere on this page.

LOSING IT

2.	A Little Help From Some New Friends

   The school year ended in June.  By then Francine had her driver's license.
Suzanne got her an ancient Honda Civic.  It had 70,000 miles, but was still
her ticket to the world.  More important, by working out and changing her
eating habits, she'd dropped from 145 pounds to 127.  Francine was ecstatic
with the dramatic plunge.  She tossed her old baggy clothes and replaced them
with a new summer wardrobe Suzanne bought her.  She wasn't skinny, not yet,
but she was getting there.  She pressed toward the mark Dr. Sawyer set, 105
pounds, her ideal weight.  In her mind, there was no reason it shouldn't
happen.  After all, she'd already lost 18 pounds.  The next 22 would surely
come off, too.

   But then, as often happens, Francine hit a plateau.  The second Monday in
June she weighed herself, and the scale read 127, just like the last week.  No
progress!  For the first time since she began working out she stayed the same
two weeks in a row and, as a result, felt depressed.  She'd starved herself
and was exercising like a demon.  But for whatever reason, it no longer seemed
to work.  She hadn't gained back any lost pounds, but that wasn't her focus.
She wanted to, she expected to, lose more weight.  And damn it, it wasn't
happening!

   She increased her workout schedule from four times a week to six.  Being
home in the summer made it easier to exercise.  By now she was in excellent
physical condition.  Her muscle tone was good, and her strength and stamina
dramatically improved.  She ran three miles a day on the treadmill, plus the
biking and lifting.  Nevertheless, the next Monday, despite the extra effort,
the scale still said 127.  Damn!  She scratched her head, bewildered and
confused.  Why couldn't she lose any more weight?

   Her friend Kristen, her only friend, was working.  Kristen got a job as a
hostess at a neighborhood restaurant.  Finding a summer job at sixteen wasn't
easy, and Francine was jealous.  Never before would she have even considered
working herself.  She never liked being in public; people thought she was too
fat.  Now, though, she was merely plump.  The disgusted stares she used to get
in the old days were gone.  Disappointed by her stymied weight loss program
and with plenty of time on her hands, she decided to visit Kristen at her job
that Monday, to hang out with her on her mid-morning break.

   Kristen was delighted to see her.  "God, Francine!  You look really good,"
her old friend smiled approvingly when Francine walked in the restaurant.
"New clothes?"

   "Yeah, Mom got me some new outfits," the brunette girl nodded nonchalantly.
"For summer, you know," she added, though she knew the true reason she needed
a new wardrobe was her reduced weight.  "Are you due for a break soon?"

   "Yeah, I am," Kristen confirmed, glancing at her watch.  "Let me seat you
at a table in the back, and I'll join you in a few minutes."

   They walked to the rear of the restaurant, to a table in the smoking
section.  Francine sighed as her friend returned to the hostess stand.  She
didn't like the smoking section.  She and her mom never ate out, so she hadn't
been forced to sit in one since Suzanne started up again.  But the idea of
being there didn't appeal to Francine.  She looked around.  There weren't many
people mid-morning.  Maybe it wouldn't be too bad sitting in the smoking
section.

   Kristen returned minutes later with two cups of coffee.  Francine had begun
to drink coffee, too.  It had no calories, and she took it black.

   "Thanks," Francine smiled, taking a sip.  "So, how are you?"

   "Great," Kristen asserted.  She was a pretty but reticent blond.  She
looked a bit like a younger and shorter version of TV star Lisa Kudrow.
Kristen, too, sipped her coffee.  "I just can't get over how great you look,
Francine.  I guess this workout thing is really helping you."

   "Yeah, it is," Francine smugly acknowledged.  "I'm in better shape than
ever," deciding not to mention her recent discouragement, at least for the
moment.

   Then Kristen did something that shocked Francine.  She took a pack of
Marlboro Lights 100's from her apron and slipped a cigarette into her mouth.

   "What ??  Ohmigod!  What are you doing, Kristen?"

   The blond girl shrugged.  "Smoking.  What does it look like?"

   "But you don't smoke," Francine gasped.

   Kristen exhaled a strong stream of smoke into the air.  "Yes, I do," she
arrogantly smiled.

   "But ?.  How long has this been going on?  You can't smoke.  You're too
young!  My God, you're not addicted, are you?"

   "I dunno if I'm addicted," the blond admitted.  "For six months I've been
sneaking Mom's cigarettes.  It's no big deal.  But when I started here this
summer, I realized everyone smokes, including Jack, the manager."  She
grinned.  "Jack doesn't care if we smoke on breaks.  A week ago, I decided to
test it.  I stole a pack from my mom's carton and brought it to work.  I lit
up on my break with one of the other girls.  Jack, the manager, never said a
thing.  So now I smoke on my breaks all the time here.  It's pretty cool."

   Francine's head was spinning.  "But it's bad for you, Kristen.  What are
you thinking?"

   "I'm thinking I like it," she caustically shot back, pausing for another
drag.  "I don't care about all that 'smoking is so bad for you' shit.  My mom
and dad have smoked as long as I can remember, and they're fine.  They never
get sick.  And look at your mom!  My God, Francine, she smokes constantly now,
and nothing's wrong with her.  In fact, your mom looks great since she started
smoking!  No, I don't worry about that health shit.  I just enjoy it."

   Francine vainly struggled to say something intelligent.  "But Kristen.  It
smells so bad.  The smell makes everything stink!"

   "Not true.  Actually, I used to think that, too.  I didn't like being near
my mom when she smoked.  I thought it stunk.  But it's totally different once
_you're_ the one smoking.  I don't know why, but if it's my cigarette, the
smell doesn't bother me.  Now, when I'm near my mom's or dad's cigarettes, I
don't mind anymore."  She giggled.  "When I smell my mom smoking, my mouth
starts to water.  I want one for myself!"

   "But aren't you worried you'll get caught?  You mom wouldn't approve!"

   Kristen shrugged.  "I don't know.  I guess I'll find out sooner or later.
But for now, what Mom and Dad don't know won't hurt them.  In the meantime, I
like smoking.  That's the important thing.  I'm not telling them, but if they
bust me, what can they do?  I'm sixteen, and I've got my own job.  There's
plenty of people here who'll cover for me if I want to smoke."

   It boggled Francine's mind.  Her best friend, her only friend, had started
to smoke!  She knew Kristen's mom smoked.  The girls used to complain about
it, as kids will, when Francine visited her friend.  As she thought about it,
she realized it'd been awhile since she'd heard any of those old complaints
from Kristen.  Now she knew why.

   "So, you're going to keep smoking?"  She feared she already knew her
friend's answer.

   Kristen nodded enthusiastically.  "Sure.  It's why I wanted a job like this
for the summer.  I hoped it'd mean I could smoke more.  You should try it,
Francine.  You'd like smoking.  I guarantee you would."  She looked at her
friend with a twinkle in her eye.  "Now that your mom smokes, you can do what
I did; liberate cigarettes from her.  You've got a never-ending supply.  As
much as your mom smokes, she'd never notice a few cigarettes, even a pack or
two, missing."  She dragged again.  "Think about it, Francine.  You can try it
yourself if you want."

   "Well, I don't want to," the brunette blustered.  "I'm focused on losing
weight.  I don't want to smoke.  No offense, Kristen, but I think it's yucky."

   Kristen grinned.  "Everyone thinks that at first.  But once you try it, I
mean, once you get used to it, your opinion changes.  All of a sudden, you
totally understand why millions and millions of people smoke.  There's nothing
like it."  She trimmed her cigarette in the ashtray.  "Who knows?  It might
help you lose more weight."

   "I don't need any help," Francine retorted angrily.  She looked at her
watch.  "I gotta go," she lied.  "I need to stop at the video store."

   "I need to get back to work myself."  Kristen hit intensely on her Marlboro
Light 100 and crushed it in the ashtray.  "We've been friends forever,
Francine.  I'm sorry you're mad about my smoking.  I hope it doesn't mean we
can't still be friends."

   "Don't be dumb, Kristen.  Just because I think you're making a mistake
doesn't mean we aren't friends."  She paused.  "You know, you're really the
only friend I've got.  That's why I don't want anything to come between us."

   Kristen straightened her apron as she stood up.  "Me neither, Francine.  I
don't want anything to change.  And God, you look _so_ good these days!  Don't
worry about not having friends.  At the rate you're going, soon boys will be
drooling all over those big tits of yours."

   "What?"

   Kristen laughed.  "Girl, look at those titties!  You lost weight off your
waist and hips, but your tits are still nice and big.  Guys like girls with
big tits."  She looked sorrowfully at her own breasts.  "God, mine are
nothing.  But yours ?."  She whistled quietly and admiringly.  "You're getting
so skinny around the middle, your big tits will start to attract a hell of a
lot of attention!"

   Francine looked down at her breasts.  They _were_ big.  She'd never thought
about them as an asset.  She hesitantly gazed at her friend.  "I dunno.  Do
you think I'm pretty, Kristen?"

   Kristen laughed again.  "Yeah, you're getting damn good looking, Francine.
I never used to think so.  You were _so_ heavy.  But now ?."  She paused.
"Yeah, you look damn good.  The word's 'voluptuous.'  The more weight you
lose, Francine, the better your tits will look compared to your shrinking
waistline and hips."

   Francine drove home in a dither.  Kristen's smoking upset her, but the
comment about her breasts was exciting.  She never imagined she could attract
guys!  She was an ugly duckling.  She'd been called Fat Frances, Blubber Butt,
and worse.  But now Kristen said she was voluptuous.  At home, she went to the
bathroom to study herself.  Never before did she worry about makeup or fixing
her hair.  Maybe, just maybe, she should.  Perhaps she ought to pay more
attention to her appearance.  If her breasts were really such big assets, the
main characters in the show, so to speak, then her face and hair and clothes,
the supporting cast, should come up to speed.  The idea of guys paying
attention to her was completely new, but it was sure pleasant!

   Over the next few days she worked even harder at her exercise regimen, but
the scale failed to move down.  One morning it read 128.  Damn!  She _had_ to
figure out how to make more progress.  Her mother did it; why couldn't she?

   Then it hit her.  Her mom had had the exact same problem.  She, too, hit a
plateau, and couldn't lose any more.  She shuddered as she considered her
mom's solution.  Yeah, her mom had the same situation, and solved it by taking
up smoking because apparently it helped her eat less.  But Francine didn't
want to do that!

   She wandered into the family room to sit down and think.  She worked out
every day.  She was firm and fit, but still fat.  The solution wasn't more
exercise, it was eating less.  She groaned.  She was already starving most of
the time.  She chewed sugarless gum between meals and drank coffee instead of
Coke or fruit juice.  But she still ate three meals a day.  They were low-fat,
but she ate them.  She decided.  She _had_ to quit eating breakfast and lunch.
Her mom did when she faced the same problem.  Not eating those meals pushed
her past the plateau, and accelerated her weight loss.  She had to do the same
thing.  She didn't have to smoke.  She didn't want to.  She'd just stop eating
those two meals every day.

   She wasn't about to tell Suzanne.  She'd lecture her about the nutrients a
growing girl needs.  Bullshit!  She didn't care.  She had two months till
school started.  After hearing Kristen's compliment about her breasts, she
determined to be a different girl by fall.  She'd made substantial progress.
If she starved herself, like her mom, she'd get down to 105 by the time school
started again in late August!

   She dreamed about starting classes in the fall.  She imagined boys asking;
"Who's that cute new girl?  The one with the big tits?  Francine?  Fat
Francine?  No way!  God, she's an absolute babe now!"  She laughed as she
pictured it happening.  She wanted it to happen; she wanted it bad.  All she
had to do was not eat breakfast and lunch for awhile.  Just like her mom.

   That day she ate no lunch.  Instead she drank coffee and ate celery sticks,
a delicacy she hated but which she ordinarily saved for snacking in the
afternoon.  Her stomach ached.  She felt so hungry!  She tried an extra run
outside, for the weather was nice.  She tried napping.  She tried watching TV
and reading.  Nothing diverted her attention from the empty feeling in the pit
of her stomach.  It wasn't working!  Damn!  It had to, she told herself.  It
just had to!

   By the time Suzanne got home, Francine was ravenous.  Skipping lunch made
her a complete maniac.  She snapped at her mom several times.  Suzanne asked
what was wrong, but Francine refused to answer.  She didn't want to admit she
skipped lunch.  She feared her mom wouldn't approve, so she glumly refused to
talk.  She wanted to change the subject, so she casually mentioned to Suzanne
that she was upset to learn her best friend Kristen was smoking.

   Suzanne tried not to react to the surprising revelation.  She continued
fixing supper while smoking, as usual.  But Francine's negative comment about
Kristen made her glad.  She worried Francine might be seduced into smoking.
But from her comment about Kristen, it seemed clear nothing of the sort was
going on.  After all, she reasoned, if Francine was thinking about smoking
herself, she'd never mention Kristen doing it.  She was sad to hear the
unfortunate news about Kristen, but was glad for Francine's disapproval.  She
wondered if her friend Beth, Kristen's mom, knew.  Probably not.  Perhaps, at
some point, she'd give Beth a head's up.

   Francine wolfed down her food in record time that night.  Suzanne asked why
she seemed so hungry.  "I ran extra today," the teenager snarled.  That was
true, but it wasn't the real reason.

   To Francine, supper seemed too small.  All the carrot sticks and celery in
the world couldn't satisfy her hunger that night.  But she was determined to
stop eating lunch and breakfast, no matter hungry it made her.  It'd
eventually get easier.  In a day or two, she reasoned, it'd be as easy as it
was giving up her beloved junk food months a few months earlier.

   But it wasn't.  Usually Francine had a bowl of cereal with skim milk for
breakfast, with coffee.  But the next morning she determined to go it on
coffee alone.  By mid-morning she felt unbelievably hungry.  She was about to
break down and pour a bowl of cereal anyway, but she thought about the needle
on the scale pointing to 127.  "No," she said firmly.  "I can do this.  I can
stop eating breakfast and lunch!"

   She skipped lunch.  By one thirty she was climbing the walls!  How in the
hell did anyone do this? she wondered.  How did her mom do it?  The trouble
was, she knew.  She hated to admit it, but her mom' solution was on the table
in front of her.  Suzanne often left open packs of her Benson & Hedges around.
Francine never paid attention.  But that day she stared at the pack on the
table as her stomach growled incessantly.  Munching a celery stick, chewing
sugarless gum and drinking black coffee (her fifth cup of the day), she
decided.  She'd try it.  Smoking might help her through the day, too, but just
at first, just to break the agony of not eating breakfast and lunch.  Her mom
never had to know.  If smoking for a few days helped her skip breakfast and
lunch, it was worth it!

   But she realized she didn't know how.  She hopped in her car and drove to
Kristen's restaurant.  It was mid-afternoon by then, and luckily her friend
was due for a break.  Again Kristen seated Francine in the smoking section and
joined her, carrying two cups of coffee.

   Francine explained her dilemma.  "I need to lose more weight.  Exercise and
no junk food worked wonders at first.  I lost, like, twenty pounds.  Then, I
hit a plateau.  It's not working now.  I need to stop eating, like Mom.  She
doesn't eat breakfast or lunch; she smokes.  It seems to satisfy her.  It must
deaden her hunger.  I'm desperate, Kristen.  I can't stop eating without help.
I tried skipping lunch yesterday, and today had no breakfast or lunch.  I'm
going nuts.  What do you think?  Should I try smoking?  Will it make me stop
being so damn hungry all the time?"

   Her blond friend smiled and lit up a cigarette.  "Cigarettes help you lose
weight.  No doubt.  If I'm home, I eat a big meal at noon.  But here, I just
nibble while I smoke.  I barely miss eating.  You're right.  Smoking kills my
hunger.  I don't even think about it if I smoke.  So if you want to eat less,
smoking can help."  She grinned.  "That's what your mom found.  It sounds like
now you want what she's got; an easy way to totally stop eating during the
day."

   Francine nodded.  "Yeah, that's it.  I want it to be easy; at least easier.
Right now, I'm going nuts.  I stopped eating junk food; that wasn't so hard.
But I can't stop eating altogether, though I want to.  I never thought I'd say
this, because I really hate smoking.  I hate the smell of it, and I hate how
bad it is for my mom.  But right now, I'd do anything to shed more pounds.
Anything!"

   Kristen smiled.  "Then try a cigarette."  She held out her pack of Marlboro
Lights 100's.  "Learn to smoke, Francine.  It's not hard.  I'll teach you.
Are you game?"

   "Here?  Now?  God, I don't know," the brunette murmured.  Despite what she
said, Francine hadn't really considered doing it right then.

   "Sure.  Why not?  We're not busy.  There's almost no one here.  I can show
you the ropes, and then you can practice at home.  It's up to you."

   Francine took a deep breath.  "Okay.  Yeah, let's do it.  Show me."

   Kristen gave a short course on how to smoke; how to hold a cigarette,
de-ashing, dragging, exhaling, and so on.  She told Francine not to inhale.
Francine nodded.  She knew what she meant.  Her mom breathed smoke into her
lungs before exhaling it out.  "Don't try that, not yet," Kristen warned.
"After you've smoked awhile, like, for a few days, then give inhaling a try.
Because it's the part of smoking that really deadens your hunger the best."

   Kristen shook two cigarettes from her pack and gave one to Francine.  "Now,
the first time, you'll think it's gross.  Everybody does.  Don't let that
scare you.  Here's something to remember.  The next puff's always better than
the last one.  Got it?  Repeat that out loud for me."

   Francine rolled her eyes.  "The next puff is always better than the last
one."

   "Right," Kristen grinned.  "Keep telling yourself that, because it's true
every time, no matter how long you've been smoking.  The next puff you take is
always better than the last one you just had."  She lit up, and motioned for
her friend to put her cigarette in her mouth.  Francine did, and Kristen held
out her lighter.

   Francine leaned in and caught the light.  The bitter taste of smoke filled
her mouth.  She made a face as she removed the cigarette.  "Yuck.  This _does_
taste dreadful!"

   Kristen laughed.  "I told you.  Remember - the next puff's always better.
Try it again."

   Francine did.  Kristen coached her through several more puffs.  Francine
didn't like it.  But Kristen was right.  It got easier as she kept going,
though she still couldn't imagine how this dreadful, unpleasant activity would
make her not want to eat.  She also felt self-conscious smoking in public, but
no one paid any attention.  As she crushed out her cigarette, she felt
pleased.  At least she'd done it.  It wasn't great, but it wasn't as hard as
she feared.

   "You did great," Kristen gushed.  "So, what do you think?"

   "I'm mystified.  It's no fun; it's not even pleasant.  But it worked for
Mom.  I guess it can work for me, too."

   "Oh, it'll work," Kristen smiled.  "So, are you going to start practicing
at home?"

   Francine slowly nodded.  "Mom smokes so much around the house.  I'm not
worried.  She'll never notice.  I figure I'll just steal cigarettes from her.
I'll have one more this afternoon, and starting tomorrow morning I'll try
smoking instead of eating breakfast and lunch."

   "Wait.  What does your mom smoke?"

   "I dunno," Francine admitted.  "Benson and Hodges or something like that."

   "Ah, Benson & Hedges," Kristen nodded.  "The packs are gold, with red
trim?"

   "Yeah, that's right."

   "Shit.  Your mom smokes full flavor cigarettes.  They're stronger.  They
might be too much for you right now.  I'll give you some Marlboro Lights 100's
to start out on instead."

   "Oh, Kristen, I couldn't take yours ?."

   "Don't be an ass.  Take the rest of my pack.  I've got more.  This'll give
you some to work with while you get comfortable with smoking."

   "Okay.  You're sure?"

   Kristen smiled at her friend.  "Oh, I'm sure, Francine.  I'm very sure."

   Kristen was glad to encourage Francine.  Kristen's mom didn't know she
smoked.  Unlike Francine's, her mom didn't work.  She was home all day, so
Kristen couldn't smoke at her house.  But if Francine smoked, she could hang
out at her house and smoke there when she wasn't working.  So her generosity
wasn't altogether charitable.

   Francine went home determined to practice.  At three thirty she lit up one
of the cigarettes Kristen gave her.  She figured that was plenty of time for
her smoke to dissipate before Suzanne got home.  It wasn't pleasant, but was
more tolerable than her first cigarette.   After finishing, she went
downstairs to run, and was pleased to realize that smoking two cigarettes
didn't seem to affect her workout at all.

   By the time Suzanne got home, the lingering aroma of her daughter's one
afternoon cigarette had completely disappeared.  She fixed two grilled chicken
salads, complete with low fat dressing, and mother and daughter ate supper
silently until the phone rang.

   "It's for you," Suzanne announced.  "It's Kristen."

   "Hello?"

   "Francine?  Kristen.  A girl from work is having a party at her apartment.
She invited me, and said I can bring a friend.  Do you want to come?"

   Francine told Suzanne of the invitation and asked if she could go.

   "Sure, honey."  Suzanne was glad to see her daughter get invited out.
Francine rarely socialized, and Suzanne was eager to see her reap some
benefits from her new, skinnier persona.  She never asked her who was having
the party or who would be there.  But Francine knew Kristen's friend was
older, already out of high school.

   Kristen picked her up.  "Kelley saw you at the restaurant with me," she
explained.  "So she assumes you smoke, just like the rest of us.  Everybody at
her place will be smoking tonight.  This'll be a chace for you to practice
smoking in a social setting."

   Francine hadn't thought of it.  She told Kristen she didn't bring any
cigarettes.

   "No problem," Kristen laughed.  "You can bum mine.  But the thing is, you
really have to smoke tonight.  It'll help you have a good time."

   And it did.  There were a dozen people at Kelley's party.  Most of them
smoked.  Only a few were from the restaurant.  The others were Kelley's
college friends; she was a sophomore at the local community college.

   Francine felt awkward.  She'd been excluded from parties her entire life.
She'd never been invited to any because she was fat.  But now no one at this
one considered her an outcast.  She was a little heavier than most of the
girls, but no one noticed or cared.  Kelley even offered her a beer, and
Francine accepted, though she'd never had alcohol before.  She slowly nursed
her beer along and, with everyone else smoking, she finally decided to join
in, particularly when Kristen reminded her she shouldn't miss the opportunity.

   She lit up, and at first she felt self-conscious with a cigarette.  But no
one seemed to notice her ineptness or that, unlike all the other smokers, she
didn't drag very hard or often.  She noticed she was the only one who didn't
inhale her smoke.  But with a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other,
she realized to her delight that she wasn't as prone to snack on the chips and
cookies.  Usually she ate when she felt nervous, but not that night.

   By the time she and Kristen left at eleven thirty, Francine had smoked four
cigarettes.  She didn't smoke them much; mostly she held them for effect.  But
as they got in the car, Kristen said she was very proud of her.

   "You were a party animal, Francine," she laughed.  "And isn't it cool
hanging out with college kids?  I don't think anyone realized we're only
sixteen.  With a cigarette, you look so much older, and very sophisticated."
Seeing her disbelief, Kristen laughed.  "I'm serious, Francine.  You didn't
seem at all awkward or nervous tonight."

   "I was scared shitless," the brunette girl laughed.  "What about you,
Kristen?  You've always been so shy.  Yet tonight you were totally at ease.
What's changed?"

   "Smoking," asserted the blond.  "Now that I smoke, I don't feel like a
dork.  The kids at school all think of me as shy, mousy Kristen, the stupid
girl who never knows what to say.  But at work they treat me like an equal.
The fact that they know me as a smoker has a lot to do with my new
self-confidence.  It's helped me fit in.  It's really great."

   Francine thought about that.  Kristen did seem more comfortable with her
work friends than she ever did with kids at school.  Francine never thought
about smoking as an advantage, but in Kristen's case, maybe it was.  It helped
her break out of her shell and be accepted as part of the gang.  Neither of
them ever experienced that, Francine mused.  It felt very nice!

   She liked going to the party.  Smoking there made her feel grown up, and
she liked that, too.  Maybe there was something to it in addition to the
weight loss idea.  She looked at the pack of cigarettes in her purse.  Her mom
wouldn't be happy, but at that moment she didn't care!

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