capacity. I was a straight edge goody-two-shoes. Smoking wasn’t on my agenda. But neither was freaking out in front of a critic. I took the cigarette and placed it between my lips. He lit it and showed me how to inhale without coughing up everything in my stomach.
It was magical. It brought instant relaxation and comfort. It cleared my mind and gave me the ability to focus. When I came back into the kitchen, the guys were applauding me. Probably because they couldn’t deal with my freak-outs, which happened often. Whatever the case, our food was perfect, the critic was impressed, and we got an amazing write-up in the Phantom Gourmet. It was that night that I decided one cigarette a day would keep the nerves away. I just couldn’t let anyone else know I was doing it. It could tarnish the reputation I worked heard to create.
Now I realize my reputation was all in my head. To everyone else, I was just Felicity. To me, though, I was the top chef who couldn’t make any mistakes or show any weakness. I thought people looked up to me and expected me to be a leader. But the kitchen survived without me while I was in the hospital. Some leader I turned out to be.
“We’ve been friends for an entire year and I haven’t seen you smoke anything,” Aspen says. “When did you…?”
“Last year, before I met you. It’s not something I’m proud of.” I just need to come to terms with it. It’s a nasty habit, but one I’ve come to rely on, especially now. Maybe thinking I’ve been doing something wrong has kept me to one a day. But doing something wrong that only I know about…it does give me a rush.
“Wow. Well, I’m kind of shocked. You know that shit will kill you, right?” She sounds like Blake. He caught me smoking on our back porch one night.
And he sort of flipped his shit.
Our uncle died of lung cancer when we were young. He lived with us up until he died, so it was almost like losing a parent, in a way. He stayed with us when Mom and Dad worked, took Blake to sports and me to dance class. He was a cool live-in babysitter-slash-big brother. The cancer came on so fast, but it wasn’t at all surprisingly. He was a pack a day smoker for twenty years. Mom and Dad tried to get him to quit so many times but never had any luck.
When Blake found out I was smoking, he threw my pack away and took all of my lighters, but it was too late. I was already hooked. I needed that one little stick a day. After a while, he gave up the battle, but he made it clear he didn’t want to see it or smell it. So I kept it hidden as best I could. I knew I was upsetting him, but I needed it too much.
“I know. It’s just something I need right now.”
“You don’t need to smoke, Felicity, not to mention that you were just released from the hospital for smoke inhalation. What are you thinking? Go get some anxiety meds from your doctor or something.”
“Yeah, maybe.” I pull in another drag and blow it over my shoulder, away from her. “What’s in there?” I point to the paper bag hanging out of her hand.
“I grabbed breakfast for us—and Tanner.” It isn’t a shock any more that she’s talking to him. However, it’s really bugging me that they’re talking about me behind my back and that she clearly knew he intended to come over this morning.
“Why did you tell him I was on a date last night?” I toss the butt to the ground and drop my hands into my sweatshirt pocket. I’m dying to know how it came up, considering the two of them only met last week. I didn’t even know they’d exchanged phone numbers.
“Shouldn’t you put that out?” she points to the cigarette lying beside my foot.
“Oh, yeah.” I almost forgot. I step on it and sweep it into the corner. “So, why did you tell him?”
She looks around, almost like she’s distracting herself from my question. “We’re worried about you, sweetie. That’s all this is.”
“Well don’t.”
I have a million things I feel like saying to her right now, but I see Tanner making his way down the street. It’s hardly been ten minutes since I got his last text.
“What are you ladies doing outside? It’s cold