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veronica sawyer doesn't smoke.
well, that technically wasn't true. in senior year, after opening up to heather mcnamara about her self destructive tendencies, her experienced friend offered her a bit of weed, promising it would help. and help it did. thanks to her maintained contact with tracy- resident stoner chick of westerburg, veronica smokes a spliff pretty much every time she feels a little too insane.
but she likes to think she quit cigarettes a long time ago.
the first time she smoked a cigarette was during sophomore year.
she had found a stray cigarette forgotten on the table by her father. normally in any other circumstance, she would have rolled her eyes and ignored it; her dad was known to be quite absent-minded.
but tonight was different. she had just gotten home from a house party with the heathers only to find herself scribbling furiously in her diary, tears of anger sparking, outside in her backyard.
dear diary,
i can't believe i cancelled my cinema plans with betty. even seeing the breakfast club would have been much more bearable than being glared at by heather all night while heather made out with ram sweeney for everyone to see. even heather wasn't having fun; she drank until she was vomiting, as usual. i know i should have been less uptight, but god, i was really pissed. don't get me wrong, i love heather, heather, and of course heather, but sometimes it feels like they don't get me. so why do i always hang out with them? it's as if i enjoy pain.
so when she saw the sky blue lighter was left out as well, she impulsively grabbed both the cigarette and the lighter and hastily lit the tip. after a few unsuccessful, cough-filled attempts, she finally managed to inhale the nicotine-laced smoke. the feeling that followed was near impossible to describe. the tobacco burned her throat, but her head was in the clouds and her body felt light. it was quite pleasurable, really, until the feeling came crashing down. her stomach jolted and she immediately emptied the remains of what was left in her stomach onto her lap.
when she told heather (chandler, mind you) about the experience, the blonde teen immediately wrinkled her nose.
"serves you right. god, cigarette's are disgusting. my mom smokes those all the time and it stenches up the house."
veronica frowned. she didn't come to heather for judgement, but what had she expected? "i don't know why i did it. i just wanted to feel something, i guess."
heather's expression softened. "maybe you should find better coping mechanisms," she attempted at a clear joke. veronica forced out a chuckle.
"yeah, heather, maybe i should."
the second time she had smoked was hanging out with jason dean behind the bleachers, in the late spring of junior year. only a few days after heather chandler's death that veronica had more to do with than she'd like to admit.
she watched him effortlessly light the cigarette as if it was second nature. she wondered how old he was when he smoked for the first time. he raised the cigarette to his lips, before flicking his hand in veronica's direction.
"care for a hit?"
veronica instinctively shook her head, though the thought was tempting. it wasn't the first time j.d. had offered her a cigarette, but it was the first time she considered it.
"you know those things will give you lung cancer, right?" she said instead, smirking righteously while he took a drag with his eyelashes fluttering closed.
"because i'm so afraid to die," he retorted in a humorous tone, exhaling smoke from his nostrils. it may have been a joke, but she knew there was a hint of truth to it. (after all, there was a hint of truth to every joke- that's why they were funny.)
"give me pleasure or give me death!" he exclaimed, taking another puff as the smoke floated above their heads. it was dangerously memorizing to watch him, and she couldn't quite explain why.
she pursed her lips uneasily, vividly remembering the nausa but not forgetting the buzz. "i'd hardly call smoking pleasure."
j.d. raised an eyebrow. "how would you know if you've never tried?" she balked in indignation. how dare he!
"who says i haven't tried?" she shot back hotly.
a devilish grin spread upon his face. "darling, all this time you had me assuming you were a virgin." he put the cigarette between his lips. "to cigarettes, of course."
she shouldn't have taken the bait, but she couldn't help the way his jeer filled her with indignation. he could be such an asshole. "i did it one time last year and i stopped since. heather didn't approve anyway," she added, rolling her eyes.
"and why do you care so much about her approval?"
maybe it was j.d.'s taunting, or maybe it was the guilt that flushed through her system when she mentioned heather, but whatever it is compelled veronica to yank the cigarette out of his mouth and take a long inhale without a single cough.
"see? not a virgin." he smiled broadly and leaned in to kiss her, tobacco staining both of their mouths.
after they graduated highschool, martha dunnstock, veronica's new unexpected best friend, helped her to quit smoking nicotine. while martha doesn't know the full details of everything that went down with j.d.- the suicides, the guns, the bombs- she knows well enough that both him and smoking weren't good for veronica.
but even martha has a life beyond helping her. she's a full-time university student with a dream, and veronica... is a college drop-out with a shitty job she hated and a semi-clean apartment.
she hates to admit it, but she misses the feeling of a cigarette between her lips. and if she thinks about it long enough, she misses the feeling of j.d. the two often went hand in hand.
sometimes memories are cruel, and she swears she can still feel the burn of a cigarette on her palm, or taste the explosion of her own making on a cigarette.
so when the moon hangs low in the sky and she feels the emptiness of every single thing that he did to her, everything she's done...
veronica sawyer smokes.