Taylor put the cigarette into his mouth and sucked, closing his eyes. Quickly, he took it out of his mouth, giving a retched look at it.
"Like it?" I asked hopefully, raising my eyebrows at him.
"This stuff's terrible." he gritted through his teeth.
"Oh, Tay, I'm sorry." I said, taking the cigarette away from him.
"No, let me smoke it through." he commanded, taking the cigarette back, smoking the rest of it.
"Rae Ann, do you have a spare pack of cigs?" I asked, turning to her.
"I got them from Irene. She's over there." she replied, and pointed to the corner of the room.
I walked, and stumbled on the rug, over to Irene. It had been long since my last cigarette; I guess I had gotten a buzz from the one I just took.
"Irene, do you have a spare pack of cigs with you?" I asked.
She handed me a box that had 12 packs in it. "Three's your limit, but don't say I didn't owe you any." she replied in a monotonous tone, continuing to sniff her cocaine.
"Wow, thanks Irene." I said, and gladly took three packs out. Then I froze. Wait a minute. "Hey Irene, where did you get these?" I cautiously asked.
"My dad buys 'em for me." she replied.
"He does?" I asked.
"Yeah, doesn't yours?"
"Hell no, mine doesn't even know I smoke."
"Whatever."
I walked back over to Taylor, and saw that he was lighting another cigarette, inhaling its contents.
"Taylor, let's go. This party's dead." I said, observing the people in the basement.
"Can I take this with...um...me?"
"Hehe, Taylor, how many of those have you had?"
"Ummm..." he thought, and held up five hesitant fingers.
"Lord, you're a fast smoker." I said, and dragged him back upstairs.
"Hehe, I sure am, aren't I?..and, uh...where are we going?" he asked, giggling like a girl.
"I don't know. But you're acting kinda funny." I said, chuckling hesitantly.
"Shudup, I am not." he slurred, and his eyes were getting droopy.
"Woah, you look like you got stoned. Were those roaches we were smokin'? Uh...I think we're stoned or something, cause, whew! I sure don't feel the same!" I observed.
"Hehe, that's funny." he pointed to my face.
"Ew, you smell like drug or smoke or something. Come on, we gotta go to the bathroom."
"But I don't have to...go." he said, whining like a little kid.
"Just shudup, Tay." I ordered, and searched the bathroom for baby powder.
"Oh, cool." I muttered to myself as I found baby powder-lotion.
"Here Tay. Put this all over you." I said, handing him the bottle after I put some on myself.
Then I searched for mouthwash and plastic cups. When I found them, I swished my mouth and instructed Taylor to do the same.
Taylor and I walked back home. I swear, I didn't think twice about those cigarettes, or whatever it was that we were smoking, affecting him. He just kept singing "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" as we walked home, and I started singing "Row Row Row Your Boat," and he'd laugh at me.
Quietly, we snuck back inside my house and walked upstairs to my room.
"Taylor, you gotta stay here tonight. I don't want you mom to see you in your...condition. She would freak. Get in bed." I ordered, my body starting to break down the components.
Soon enough, the lights were out, and I climbed into bed with Taylor. He kept giggling and whispering things into my ear.
"Taylor, what do I have to do to make you shut up and fall asleep?" I asked.
"Kiss me." he simply said.
None the less, I did my ultimate best to shut him up. I threw myself on top of him and french-kissed him. His hands rubbed my thighs as he returned my kisses. They reached to my night-shirt and started to gently lift it up.
"That's enough for tonight, pal." I said, and pushed him off of me. Then he scooted closer to me and we cuddled. "Now please be quiet and go to sleep." He was asleep before he heard what I said.
Rriiinnnggg! Rriiinnnggg! Rriiinnnggg!
"Hello?" I asked groggily when the phone woke me up.
"Hello, Noelle? This is Diana. Did I wake you up?"
"Oh, Diana. Hi. You did wake me up, but that's alright. I need to get up anyway." I replied, and looked over at Taylor, stirring in his sleep, arms around me and smiling.
"Oh, I'm sorry Noelle. Listen, is Taylor over there? He didn't come home last night." she asked, her tone worried.
"Yes, he is. We got home at one thirty in the morning and I told him to crash here from the party last night. I didn't want to call you and wake you up, so I was going to call this morning." I explained.
"Okay, just as long as I know where he is. Tell him that he can come home anytime because I'll be home all day, okay?"
"Okay Diana. See you later." I ended the call.
I looked at Taylor again. He looked so cute smiling in his sleep; it was angelic.
I got out of his grasp and went to go take a shower. I came back to my room about twenty minutes later and found Taylor putting his hair in a ponytail.
"Hey babe, you okay? You were really weird last night." I came up to him, wrapping my arms around his waist from behind.
"I feel better, thanks. What did we smoke anyway?" he asked, half-smiling.
"You sure? Those cigarettes, or whatever they were, gave you a big buzz last night." I informed.
"Yeah. Come here." he said, turning around and pulling me into a hug. He kissed my head, and smelled my hair. "Mmm, your hair smells good." he commented.
I thanked him by kissing his neck and collarbone. He looked over my head and spotted the packs of cigarettes.
"Noelle, why do you have this?" he asked disgustedly, walking over and picked up one of the packs.
"Because I need it. I need to smoke." I replied, guilty.
"Why? When did you start to smoke?" he persisted.
"I've been smoking for two years, every now and then, when I had a cigarette." I confessed.
"Two years?! Why?" he exclaimed.
"Because of something." I muttered, and started sniffling.
"Noelle, what happened to encourage you to smoke?" he asked in a more calm voice.
"I started to smoke.....when...my mother died." I said, and sat on the bed, my hands in between my legs. I looked down at the floor.
"Oh Noelle..." Taylor whispered, and sat next to me.
"It was really rainy one night when it happened. The roads were really slick, and she got into a head-on collision with a drunk man going eighty-five an hour on the freeway. He was convicted for abuse of alcohol and marijuana." I said, and broke down into tears.
"Oh Noelle. I'm sorry." Taylor apologized, and wrapped me in a sympathetic hug.
"Taylor, my mom died. I can't bring her back now." I cried.
"Shhh, Noelle." he comforted, rocking us back and forth in our embrace. "It'll be alright."
"It'll never be alright." I sobbed.
"I'm here, and I'll help you get through this." he said.
"I'm through it, I'm through it. It just hurts to think about it." I cried. And we sat there.