1982 Part 02 - Amy

Ravenswood, West Virginia, 1982

Part 2 - Amy

DAY 1

The bell rings, signaling the end of the morning classes, and Amy, Clara, and Martha quickly gather their things, their school uniforms adorned with a hint of punk - ripped black jeans, band t-shirts, and long hair. Amy's blonde locks styled in a messy ponytail, Clara's dark and straight, Martha's black bob. Their eyes hold a hint of rebellion and excitement as they make their way to the woods behind the school.

In the secluded spot, they light up their Virginia Slims Menthols, the smoke filling their lungs and the sound of the crackling paper echoes in the silence.

"Oh man, this is so good," Clara says with an exhale of smoke, "I needed this after that boring math class."

Martha, taking a drag, nods in agreement, "I know, right? I swear, I'm gonna fail that class if something doesn't change."

Amy, the sweetest and most innocent of the group, takes a drag and smiles contentedly. "I'm just glad we have this break to relax and smoke," her voice full of comfort.

Martha, the ringleader of the group, takes the longest and deepest drags, expelling the smoke with a sense of arrogance. Clara's drags are a bit longer than Amy's, she's starting to get the hang of it. Amy's drags are the shortest of the three, still not used to the taste and sensation of smoking.

As they finish their cigarettes and head back to class, they make plans to sneak out and smoke again later that day, the lingering scent of smoke and the memories of their conversation still fresh in their minds.

DAY 2

Amy sauntered down the street, her guitar case slung over her shoulder and a contented grin etched on her face. The rehearsal with her band, The Outliers, had gone exceptionally well, and they were ready to take on their next gig with fire in their veins. As she turned the corner, her gaze was drawn to her new neighbor, Emily, who stood on her front porch, polishing some wood planks with methodical strokes. A cigarette dangled from her lips, cork filter and all, the smoke curling lazily around her head like a halo.

Amy couldn't help but stare, enraptured by the older woman's poise and finesse as she smoked. Emily's drags were long and deep, never once needing to touch the cigarette with her fingers. It was evident that she was a seasoned smoker, one who had mastered the art of inhaling and exhaling with effortless grace.

For a moment, their eyes met, and Emily offered a small wave, cigarette still in place. Amy blushed and waved back, feeling a sense of awe and admiration for the older woman's coolness and nonchalance.

As she continued on her way home, Amy couldn't shake off the image of Emily from her mind. She found herself wondering if she could ever smoke with the same level of control and confidence. She made a mental note to observe Emily more closely, to learn from her and maybe, just maybe, she too could smoke with the same effortless grace.

The aroma of home-cooked food greets Amy as she opens the door to her house. The warm, inviting scents of her mother's cooking waft through the air, and her stomach rumbles in hunger. She sets her guitar down in the living room and makes her way to the kitchen, where her mother, Karen, is dishing out plates of steaming food.

"Hey, sweetie. How was rehearsal?" Karen asks, her eyes bright with interest as she sets a plate of food in front of Amy.

"It was good, mom," Amy responds, her mouth already half-full of food. "The Outliers are getting ready for our next gig."

Karen's face lights up with pride. "That's great, honey. I'm so proud of you and your band," she says, sitting down across from her daughter at the kitchen table.

As they eat, Karen starts chatting about the new neighbors that moved in across the street. "Did you know that there's a new family that moved in across the street? It's just a mother and her son. The father passed away," Karen says, her voice tinged with sadness.

Amy nods, her mouth full of food. "Yeah, I saw them moving in. I think their names are Emily and David."

Karen nodded as she spooned a mouthful of her homemade stew into her mouth, "That's right, Emily. The new neighbor across the street. I haven't had the chance to talk to her yet. I should probably introduce myself and welcome them to the neighborhood."

Amy chewed thoughtfully on a piece of bread before responding, "Yeah, that would be nice. I haven't really talked to them either. But they seem nice."

Karen smiled, "Well, I'll make sure to do that soon. I don't want to intrude, but it's always nice to have new friends in the neighborhood."

Amy nodded in agreement, taking a sip of her water before adding, "Yeah, I'll see if I can talk to them too. Maybe we can all hang out sometime."

"That would be lovely, dear," Karen said as she stood up to clear the table. "I'll make sure to invite them over for dinner soon."

Amy smiled at her mother, "That sounds great, mom. I can't wait to get to know them better."

As they continued to talk, Amy couldn't shake off the image of Emily, the new neighbor, from her mind. She imagined the woman's cool, confident demeanor as she smoked, and couldn't help but feel a hint of fascination and awe. She knew she had to talk to her more

DAY 3 - LATE NIGHT

Amy crept into her brother's room, her eyes scanning the darkness for any sign of movement. She tiptoed over to the window, her hand gripping the cold metal of the latch as she opened it with a soft creak. The cool night air hit her face as she climbed out onto the balcony, the cigarette already between her fingers, the tip glowing orange in the darkness.

She inhaled as deeply as she could, the smoke filling her lungs as she heard her brother's groggy voice. "Amy? What are you doing?"

The girl turned around to see Josh rubbing his eyes and sitting up in bed. She quickly walked over to him, shushing him as she handed him a chocolate. "Shh, kiddo. Go back to sleep. I'm just going outside for a bit," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the sound of the crickets.

Josh took the chocolate and nodded, still half asleep. "Okay, but be careful," he mumbled, before lying back down and closing his eyes.

Amy smiled and walked back to the balcony, taking another deep drag from her cigarette. She looked up at the stars, feeling a sense of freedom and excitement as she sneaked around, smoking in secret. The rush of the forbidden act adding to the already heady sensation of the nicotine. She knew she had to be careful, but for now, she was content to let herself indulge in this small rebellion.

As she draws in the smoke, she notices a figure across the street, shuffling out into the night. The figure stands out against the darkness, a silhouette of a woman, taking out the trash. As she watches, she realizes it's Emily, the new neighbor, who had just moved in across the street. She can see the dimly lit cherry of the cigarette dangling from Emily's lips, like a beacon in the dark. The woman's exhale, a plume of smoke, rises like a ghostly apparition, fading into the night sky. Amy feels a hint of surprise and curiosity as she sees Emily notices her and waves. She hesitates for a moment before responding with a wave back, her heart beating fast. She's relieved that Emily doesn't seem to be the type to tattle on her, but she's also a bit worried. She doesn't want to get caught smoking, and she hopes that Emily will keep her secret, a silent accomplice in her newly discovered pleasure.

After a while, Amy extinguishes her cigarette and makes her way back into her brother's room, the smell of smoke lingering on her clothes.

Josh stirs from his slumber, his eyes bleary with sleep as he looks up at his sister. "Sis? You been smokin' again?", he growls, his tone accusatory.

Amy quickly shushes him, closing the window behind her with a soft click. "Shh, kiddo. Go back to sleep. Just takin' a break," she whispers, her voice low and hushed.

Josh glares up at her, his concern etched deep in his features. "Amy, you know mom and dad will flip if they find out. You gotta knock this shit off," he says, his voice heavy with worry.

Amy sighs, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "I know, I know. But it's just somethin' I do to relax, okay?" she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "I promise I'll be more careful, alright?"

Josh grunts and lies back down, closing his eyes. "Yeah, whatever. Just be careful, alright?" he mumbles, before drifting off into slumber once more.

As she creeps back into her room, the weight of her secrets heavy on her shoulders, Amy can't shake the image of Emily, her new neighbor, smoking effortlessly across the street. Her mind races with a dizzying mix of guilt and excitement. She knows she needs to be more careful, to keep her smoking hidden from her family and friends, but the thrill of sneaking around and indulging in her vice is almost too much to resist.

She makes a silent vow to herself to be more cautious, as she crawls into bed, but the allure of Emily's devil-may-care attitude lingers in her mind, tempting her to throw caution to the wind and indulge in her secret passion.

DAY 4

The Outliers huddle together in Martha's dimly lit room, their instruments ringing out in a symphony of sound. The air is thick with the sweet aroma of burning tobacco as they take deep drags from their cigarettes, the smoke curling around them like a thick, comforting blanket.

"Fuck math class," Clara mutters, exhaling a plume of smoke with a satisfied sigh.

Martha grins, taking a drag from her cigarette, "Music is the only thing that makes sense in this world."

Amy inhales the smoke, copying the effortless grace of Emily's technique, but the harsh smoke burns her eyes, causing her to hack and fumble the cigarette, dropping it to the ground.

"You okay, babe?" Martha asks, her voice laced with concern.

Amy nods, still coughing, "Yeah, just got a bit of smoke in my eyes," she says, smiling with watery eyes.

As they keep smoking and talking, the air becomes thick with the sweet aroma of burning tobacco and a hint of skunk as Martha pulls out a joint and lights it up.

Martha takes a hit, and exhales a cloud of smoke, her eyes closed in pleasure. "Man, this is some good shit," she murmurs, leaning back on her bed.

Clara takes a hit, and coughs a bit, her eyes watering. "Wow, that's strong," she says, her voice still a bit hoarse from the coughing, passing the joint to Amy.

Amy shakes her head and smiles, "I'm good with my cigarette, thanks," she says, taking another drag. Clara passes the blunt to Martha, who takes a drag.

Martha grins and passes the joint to Clara, "Suit yourself," she says, strumming her bass guitar. The smoke fills the room, and the band continues to play, lost in the music and the high. As they strum and pluck at their instruments, the air thick with the sweet aroma of tobacco, the Outliers discuss their upcoming gig.

"Alright folks, it's next Saturday, four days and counting," Martha declares, her bass guitar humming under her fingers. "We need to make sure this song is killer and that the crowd will love it."

Clara nods in agreement, taking a hit from the joint and exhaling a cloud of smoke, her eyes squinting through the haze of smoke. "Yeah, and we need to decide if we're gonna light up on stage this time."

Amy shakes her head, cigarette between her fingers, "I don't think so, I don't want to get in trouble with my parents or get caught by the school," she says, taking a drag from her cigarette.

Martha shrugs, her own cigarette dangling from her lips, "I don't give a fuck, I'm going to smoke on stage. It adds to the image of the band," she says after a drag, removing the cigarette from her mouth and blowing smoke towards the ceiling. "Plus, I'll just hold it in my bass hand and make it look like it's part of the performance.", she demonstrates by placing her cigarette between the strings in the bass' hand.

Clara takes another hit of the joint, her eyes squinting with uncertainty. "I don't know, man. I don't want to get in trouble," she says, her voice thick with the smoke of the joint.

Amy takes a drag from her cigarette, the cherry glowing brightly in the dim light. "Nah, definitely not," she says, her voice firm and confident.

Martha rolls her eyes, "Whatever, it's your loss," Martha sneers, rolling her eyes and shredding on her bass guitar with attitude. "But it's all part of our bad-ass image, and ain't nobody getting hurt."

Clara ponders, looking back and forth between her friends and taking another hit from the joint, "I'll weigh my options, but I can't compromise yet."

As they continue to work on their music and smoke, the conversation turns back to the upcoming gig and the excitement of performing in front of a live audience. They're all in agreement that they're going to rock the stage and make a name for themselves as a band.

DAY 5

Amy sits alone, in the dark, secluded woods behind the school, taking a break from class and smoking a cigarette. Her mind is clouded with thoughts of her friends Martha and Clara being locked up in detention for getting caught smoking at school. She's feeling a mix of regret and anger, flicking ashes carelessly to the ground, when she hears a familiar voice cutting through the silence.

"Amy? Is that you?"

She turns around and sees Jeann, her former best friend from middle school. Jeann is standing there, her petite frame carrying a small bag and a book, dressed in the typical goody-two-shoes school uniform and her hair tied up in a ponytail. Her dark brown skin and long dark brown hair falling in loose waves past her shoulders, her dark brown eyes, almond-shaped and her refined features giving her a classic and elegant appearance.

Amy is surprised to see her out here, "Jeann? What the fuck are you doing here?"

Jeann's dark eyes scanning Amy's face with a mix of confusion and concern. "I was out here collecting samples for science class, and I followed the smell of burning tobacco," Jeann says, her gaze drifting down to the cigarette in Amy's hand.

Amy feels a surge of anger and frustration, "So, what? You gonna snitch on me?" she sneers, trying to hide her fear behind a veil of nonchalance

"Amy, we used to be best friends. I know we've grown apart since high school, but I still care about you. I don't want you to get in trouble or hurt yourself," Jeann says, her voice full of concern.

Amy takes a deep drag ─ deeper than she knew she was able to, and she didn't even realize that ─ from her cigarette and exhales the smoke in Jeann's direction, the smoke clouding Jeann's face for a moment.

"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about, Jeann. You were the one who pulled away when I started getting into rock bands and different shit. You were too busy being the goody-two-shoes, getting all the good grades and never taking risks," Amy retorts, her voice rising.

Jeann's face twists with disappointment, "I didn't pull away, Amy. You chose to hang with Martha and Clara, and you stopped giving a damn about school and your future. I tried to keep our friendship, but you never had time for me," Jeann spits out, the emotion clear in her voice.

Amy takes another drag from her cigarette, the ash falling to the ground as she shakes her head. "That's not true, Jeann. I supported you even when we liked different things. But you always thought my love for music was going to ruin my future. You never fucking understood," she says, her voice filled with frustration and anger.

Jeann looks at her, disappointment etched on her face. "I may not understand it, Amy, but I still have a damn to give about you and your future. And that," Jeann gestured to the cigarette in Amy's hand, "that helps nobody."

Amy's anger boils over, her hand shaking as she takes another drag from her cigarette. "You don't get to tell me what to do, Jeann. I'll live my life the way I want to," she says, her voice cold and bitter, smoke punctuating each word.

Jeann nods, "I know you will, Amy. And I'll always be here for you, no matter what you choose. I got a ticket to your show next week, I wanted to support you," Jeann says, holding up a single ticket.

Amy 's taken aback. "Shit, really? You're gonna come to the gig?", her voice more surprised than angry.

Jeann nods, "I wouldn't miss it for the world. Even if I don't agree with your choices, I still want to support you," she says, her expression softening.

Amy takes the ticket, grumbling a thanks, her anger still simmering beneath the surface. As she checks the content, "Don't expect me to change just because you're showing up," she says, her voice cold while returning it to the other girl.

Jeann nods, "I wouldn't expect anything less, I just want to be there for you," she says, before turning and walking away.

Amy watches her go, feeling a mix of emotions. She's still angry at Jeann for judging her choices, but a part of her is touched that Jeann still wants to support her. She takes a final drag of her cigarette and tosses it to the ground, feeling a sense of longing for the friendship she used to have with Jeann.

DAY 5 - NIGHT

The Walters sat in the living room, the blue light of the TV casting a sickly glow over their faces. Howard puffed on his cigar, the rich smoke filling his mouth as he sipped on his bourbon. Karen nursed her martini, while the kids sipped on their sodas.

Amy couldn't help but feel a bit restless, the smell of her father's cigar making her crave a cigarette of her own. She tried to conceal her desire and focused on the TV, hoping nobody would notice.

Karen turned to the family, her eyes twinkling with excitement. "I was thinking of making a welcome cake for the new neighbor across the street. I heard she has a son around Josh's age, it would be nice if they could make friends," she said, smiling at her son.

Josh nodded excitedly, "Yeah, that sounds like fun! I can't wait to meet him," he said, sipping on his soda.

Karen continued, "And I thought Amy and I could go meet the neighbor tomorrow afternoon. Howard, you'll be working late, right?"

Howard nodded, "Yeah, I got a meeting tomorrow. But I think it's a great idea for you and Amy to meet the new neighbor."

Amy's pulse quickens as her mother speaks, her mind immediately turning to her new neighbor, Emily. The image of the older woman's smooth, effortless smoking style, the way she holds her cigarette in her lips like an extension of herself, burns in her mind. She wants nothing more than to learn from Emily, to incorporate her technique into her own performance at the upcoming show.

But she knows she must play it cool, hide her true intentions from her family. "Sure, that sounds like fun," she responds, trying to keep her excitement in check. As they continue to watch TV and make small talk, Amy can't shake the thoughts of Emily from her mind. She wants to meet her, to learn from her up close. As she goes to her room to "finish homework", she makes a silent vow to herself that she will find a way to smoke later that night, and perhaps she'll even catch a glimpse of Emily again. The thought of it sends a shiver of excitement down her spine.