Change of Heart (1997), Part 2

Article 678 of alt.smokers.glamour:
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From: an4@anon.lelnet.com
Newsgroups: alt.smokers.glamour
Subject: Change of Heart, Part 2
Date: Sun, 23 Feb 1997 14:17:21 -0500 (EST)
Organization: Alt.smokers.glamour society
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   "You couldn't ask Mom and Dad about this ?" Rindi asked her sister.
   "Are you kidding ? I've been so- so anti- that they are- well, they still
smoke around me, but they're really weird about it, you know ?"
   They were sitting in Rindi's used Acura Integra. It was a nice car. White
with cloth interior. As always, Cynthia noticed the smell of smoke in the car
even before Rindi lit another cigarette. For the first time, it didn't bother
her. Instead, it created more excitement. She felt a little bit like someone
who had accidentally swallowed a baseball.
   It felt great.
   "So, was it really that email that changed your mind ?"
   "Partly. That and- well, a lot of things. Give me some credit for being able
to change my mind and I think this will be a lot easier for both of us."
   Rindi took a long, satisfying inhale from the new cigarette as she turned
out of the parking lot. She held it until the smoke had done its work and
then she exhaled, not out the half open window but into the cabin of the car,
filling it with smoke. The smell was every bit as sweet as Cynthia had
imagined it would be and she understood something basic. She'd always
disliked that smell because of her attitude. Now that she'd made a conscious
effort to change that attitude everything was different.
   It was better.
   And Rindi was being nice about it. She hadn't pushed her little sister to
light one of her cigarettes yet.
   Cynthia folded back the flip top slowly and opened the foil the same way
Rindi did, carefully not to detach it from the pack. Once the cigarettes were
exposed she very carefully pulled a single one out, admiring its long white
length. She brought it to her nose and smelled the tobacco, which heightened
her excitement.
   "Tell me more," Rindi said as Cynthia pushed the lighter in.
   "I don't know. Part of it is really about you. And the rents. When you come
home- you know, I really like seeing you- but you can't wait for me to leave
the house. I can see it in your eyes."
   Rindi laughed. "With some people, I like to smoke around them because I know
it makes them uncomfortable. But you are my sister. I just never had the
heart to rub your nose in it."
   The lighter clicked and Cynthia removed it. She held the cigarette between
her first two fingers of her right hand and brought the lighter to it.
Watched the silver casing of the lighter enclose the tip of the cigarette,
heard the hiss as the end caught.
   She pulled the lighter away immediately and replaced it in the holder.
   I'm finally smoking, she thought, feeling an almost absurd joy in the
knowledge. But she wasn't, not quite yet. The cigarette was held to her lips
and it was burning, a slow but steady stream of smoke that curled from the
end and ran out her open window like a living thing. The cigarette was
smoking, but she wasn't.
   "Don't inhale right away. Just pull the smoke into your mouth. Get used to
the taste. Let it swim on your tongue. It's actually very pleasant. Inhale
too soon and you'll choke."
   Cynthia did as she was told, glad for the instruction. She pulled what she
thought felt  like the right amount of smoke. Felt it coat her tongue. She
expected it to be acrid, harsh- even nasty. But it was none of those things.
It was sweet, full, rich, and thoroughly enjoyable.
   She pursed her lips and let a small, short stream of smoke run out of her
mouth. The taste changed slightly as the cool spring air rushed out of her
lungs.
   "Answer one question honestly. Are you doing this for yourself or for
somebody else ?"
   "Somebody else ?" Cynthia asked. She was practising holding the cigarette
now. Rindi was holding hers with her right hand, which she was also using to
hold the steering wheel. It re-enforced that look of control Rindi always
seemed to exude when she was smoking. Her own hold was with the right hand,
wrist bent back. Smoke curled around her head. It was getting in her long
wavy hair and on her shirt and jacket. She moved the cigarette closer to her
head, wanting the smell of smoke to engulf her.
   She was changing her identity right here in her sister's car. She was going t
o smell like a smoker, and with Rindi's help, she was going to look and feel
like one too. She took a longer, deeper pull on the cigarette, debating
whether or not to let a little tiny bit of the smoke travel down her throat
where it was supposed to go while she considered the question.
   "Well, most of my friends smoke. Half of them are younger sisters of your
friends from high school. I guess it runs in everyone's family. But
everyone's pretty cool about whether or not you smoke."
   "Except you-" Rindi said, taking the sort of long, full-bodied inhale
Cynthia wanted to get used to doing without any effort. She then deftly
tapped ash into the ashtray and filled the car with a steamy nose exhale that
was perfectly wonderful.
   "Hey. Let me know the number if apologies it will take to get you to forgive
me."
   "Well- I don't know. I just don't want you to get too used to that level of
tolerance."
   Cynthia took what she determined would be the last pull on the cigarette
with no inhale. Once again she was amased at how pleasant the smoke from the
cigarette tasted. At how easy this was.
   "Why ?" she asked. She'd pulled the sun visor down and was pleased to watch
smoke puffing out of her mouth as she spoke.
   "Because- well, you'll learn this soon enough, but it's us against them. I
don't think I really realised it myself until I went to Montreal last summer.
Now that you're a smoker-"
   Cynthia loved  hearing that descriptive attached to her.
   "- I highly recommend Quebec. Everybody smokes. In their offices, on the
street, in the coffeehouses. There's absolutely no self-consciousness about
it. I suppose it will change. Soon. But for now-"
   Her inhale was so enticing that Cynthia decided she had to try it herself.
But first she watched yet another stunning exhale. Rindi knew how to smoke,
how to make it look unique every time. Her lips curled into a small 'o' and
the smoke came out in a forced jet of pleasure.
   "Us against them ?"
   "It's a war, and I'm glad you've come over to the right side, Benedict
Arnold."
   It was gently-spoken jibe, but Cynthia felt it and she understood something.
Rindi was right. She knew exactly what she was talking about, and Cynthia was
already thinking about how she was going to sit down at her Power Mac when
she got home and try to undo some of the damage she'd done with her slender
fingers. Fingers that were going to learn how to best hold the object of her
desire.
   She brought the cigarette to her lips and drew in the smoke. This time she
let her throat accept the smoke that rushed into her mouth, felt it slide
past the point of no return.
   She was prepared for the worst. She saw Rindi watching her out of the corner
of her eye and understood they were both waiting for it to happen. For the
smoke to slide down the wrong way, into her stomach. Or for the smoke to
overwhelm her as it filled her lungs. There would be coughing, gagging.
Sometimes people even tossed their cookies, from what Cynthia had been told.
   No cookies were tossed. The smoke was drawn into her lungs along with that
sharp, spring air which made the experience all the more compelling.
   There was just a certain lightheadedness. Pleasant. Her lungs expanded to
take it in and the younger sister felt herself walking down a road to a place
she had never been. At the end of the journey there was nothing but a rush of
excitement like none she'd ever felt.
   The destination was pleasure.
   Rindi smiled. Cynthia pursed her lips and this time it was a real exhale, a
smoker's exhale, making the next inhale possible- even expected.
   "That was easy," Cynthia said.
   "You're a natural, sis."
   "Where are we going ?"
   "I thought we'd take in some lunch. The only problem is that I made a
reservation for a non-smoking table."
   Cynthia and Rindi shared twin inhales, both full and rich. The fear of that
first inhale gone, Cynthia didn't hold back, and she didn't regret her
eagerness one bit. 
   I'm a smoker, and god, it feels great, she thought as the inhale worked
heady magic on her that she felt down to the tips of her toes.
   She picked the cellular up from its cradle.
   "Who are you calling ?" Rindi asked.
   Cynthia smiled. "Give me the number for that restaurant. We need to change
that reservation, don't you think ?"
   "I guess so," Rindi said, smiling. She was no longer dreading a week with
her sister. There was a lot she could teach her.
   She looked over to Cynthia and saw how perfectly she was holding the
cigarette, not gripping it but caressing it with those long fingers, the
wrist cocked in an enticing fashion.
   She was going to be a great student.

   -End Part 2-

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