Author's notes: I am fully aware that this is an out-of-character thing for Carly to do. It was an out-of-character habit for me to pick up, but three years later, I still do it. This is written as a confidence boost to help myself quit. A semi-plausible explanation as to why Carly started (which is actually why I started) is on the way.


Sam sat angrily sparking the blue lighter in her left hand. My heart pooled in my lungs. She'd been silent for 15 minutes. Finally, I heard her draw a breath. "I'm just very disappointed, Cupcake." I closed my eyes. The words stung far worse than I'd anticipated. "I thought you'd quit smoking."

We both knew she was far more upset about the lie than about my continued smoking. I'd told her weeks ago I had quit, and she beamed proudly. I really had quit at that point, but the stress of finals caught up to me, and I instinctively found myself trying to light a pen. I bought a pack 20 minutes later. Being a junior in college, especially as an accounting major, was rough. I'd had a world of trouble with Accounting 320, and Business Calculus in the same term had nearly killed me. I'd managed to walk away with As, but now I was dealing with Sam's disappointment in me. This moment was far worse than my near-panic attack on question 18 of the Accounting 320 final.

I wasn't sure what to say or do. We sat in uncomfortable silence for a moment more before I began. "Sam, I did quit. I started again last week." The blonde sighed and shifted her weight from one side of her chair to the other. Her left leg curled and she sat on the back of her foot. Our apartment was strangely quiet.

"I wish you'd told me you relapsed, Carly." I blinked.

Relapsed. Leave it to Sam to draw parallels between my smoking and her mother's drinking. "Do not," I started bitterly, "make me feel like you're comparing me to your mother." Her eyes widened slightly. "Relapsed," I muttered coldly under my breath. My girlfriend threw the lighter on our coffee table.

"It's the same damn thing, Carly!" I rose to my feet and thrust an accusing finger at her, all logical thought being replaced by anger.

"The hell it is, Sam! Have I ever smoked a cigarette and hit you? No. Have I ever smoked a cigarette and crashed my car? No! And not once have I ever failed to cover my part of the bills or go grocery shopping because I bought cigarettes instead!" I hadn't really intended to yell at her, but I felt guilty the instant the pain registered on her face. I sat on the arm of the chair she was in and wrapped my arms around her head. "Sam, I love you, but I'm human. I know you're disappointed, but I make mistakes. I have to deal with those mistakes as a person, and you have to deal with them as my lover. You're right. It is an addiction, and I wish I hadn't started. But Honey, me slipping in a couple of cigarettes a day is no where near what you dealt with when we were in high school."

"I know... I'm sorry, Carls. It just felt like you lied to me, y'know?"

"I kind of did, Baby. I really did quit. I just didn't want to upset you by telling you I started again a week later." Sam sighed and leaned into my chest. "We'll come up with a better quitting strategy tomorrow, okay?" She nodded slowly and looked up at me.

"I love you, Cupcake." I smiled. "Now go brush your teeth. Mamma wants to tap that but not with gross menthol breath." I started laughing and pushed her off me. "No more than one?" I sighed softly and nodded, then ankle swore, then kissed her cheek. She sauntered off to our bedroom as I took one-and-only-one cigarette out of the box and grabbed my jacket.


The freezing Seattle air reminded me of the many comments smokers had made to me during the winters over the two years since I'd started. They were always thing like, "this weather makes me want to quit," or "you know we're either crazy or addicted when we're smoking with snow on the ground." I laughed slightly as I remembered Spencer catching me for the first time.

Sam and I hadn't yet found jobs to afford our own place, so she had moved in with us at the close of our freshman year at Washington State. We had started dating a few weeks prior, after many years of convincing ourselves we were straight.

Honestly, I am straight. Sam seems to be the exception, though. I guess love and sexual orientation are two completely different things, although all the feelings I have for her... well, let's just say I do enjoy sex with Sam (a lot) because of those feelings (and her talent with her tongue), but I've never been attracted to another woman.

I took another hit from my cigarette and watched my neighbor take his dog out. Where was I? Oh, yes. The first time Spencer caught me smoking. He had slipped onto the fire escape, much like I had done. He'd started dating T-Bo's cousin a few months before, and I can't even tell you how weird that was. I was staring out over the Seattle skyline when the frustrated flicking of his lighter startled me. "Carly, what are you-OHMYGODYOU'RESMOKING!" I moved my cigarette from his sight defensively, but the damage was done. He was mid-rant before I cut him off.

"Spencer, you're smoking too. I'm 19. I don't smoke all the time. And if you don't speak of this, I won't tell Marsha." Yeah, leave it to me to blackmail my brother. He had dropped it, though. From that night on, I partook in my guilty sin on the roof.


I flicked an ash and sighed as my neighbor scolded his dog for pooping on the sidewalk. I had to figure out a way to make everything right with Sam. She had been so hurt when she found out. I was always the golden child, the one no one would've anticipated with a smoking habit. I rubbed the cherry off and tossed the butt into the can. I'd figure it out tomorrow. Right now, I had a toothbrush and horny blonde waiting on me. The thought had me giggling and up the stairs in an instant, leaving my neighbor and his dog to wonder what was up with the closet smoker in the boring business casual accountant's clothes.