Cynthia blinked twice. One of her hands lifted the horizontal slats of the wooden blinds slightly upwards so she and Gracie could peer through the window. The girls were not seeking to appreciate the brilliant blue of the midday skies that held the sun; they watched the movement from the house next door, their eyes narrowly missing the sun's light from blinding them.

The searingly heat intensified after entering Cynthia's room. She couldn't open her windows due to an awful odour coming from the neighbour's house and so the two girls were left with the option of using fans. 

Cynthia's room was rather dim despite the sun being out. The singular window in her room had the blinds closing everything in her room off from the world's light.

She had two book shelves filled with books and random scraps of school notes wedged between. There was a sudoku book on the dresser next to her neatly made bed, which she would normally attempt to complete in the morning and when the afternoon brought her nothing but boredom. Her only fan was located next to her bed and in front of the dresser. 

She had a tall stand up lamp that stood proudly next to her study desk, though it needed a new light bulb. Her desk faced a wall covered with her favourite journalist articles and odd list of things she was tempted to learn or search up. 

Cynthia's dark blue eyes only glinted with curiosity as she focused her attention on the girl who drank a can of coke on the front steps of the house next-door. Gracie's intrigued look had a faint shadow devilish behaviour -a look that was associated with her too often.

"That's her." She mumbled as dropped the slat back into place. "Moved in a few days ago... I think."

Gracie itched a mosquito on her pale arm. "Did Dennis and Joan finally move out?"

"She's Dennis's cousin, but mum said she was sixteen."

"Seriously? Dude, we could be friends with her. Dennis totally loves us."

Cynthia gave a look of disbelief as her freckled nose wrinkled in distaste from the thought of Dennis. Gracie shot her a knowing grin in reply.

It was the middle of summer vacation. Unlike past summers, in which she travelled just beyond the borders of her hometown, Cynthia was stuck at home. In a way, she was grateful for the idea of not having to find new wifi passwords in unfamiliar rooms and feeling lost.

There was, however, the problem of keeping oneself entertained. Unfortunately for Cynthia, she reached the point where everything could only attribute to the dull feeling in her head; videos, music, even her occasional outings to the shops weren't enough to elevate her mind.

The idea of having a new addition to her life was somewhat interesting but knowing that her new neighbour was related to Dennis was deflating.

Dennis was known as the local misfit, he took great pleasure when playing his classical music on full volume as he drank rum on his patchy lawn. He often spoke about trivial topics with a voice of pride. It would be as though he was preaching about politics and contemporary issues in society when in reality he was talking about how McDonald's fries should be improved.

Cynthia collected her hair into a bundle and tied it up into a loose bun, not bothering to check in the mirror for imperfections. She did notice a curl of stray loose hair drooping over her eyes.

"What's her name." Gracie asked as she stepped away from the window and towards the middle of the room where a tall black fan stood on side of a single bed.

"Yasmine."

"Jasmine?"

"I said Yasmine."

"Right, right."

Cynthia tucked the stray hair from her loose bun away from her flushed freckled cheeks. Normally she would prefer to have her hair down so that it sat on her shoulders, however, the summer heat was getting to her. She didn't mind exposing the acne on the sides of her face to Gracie, mostly because her best friend was too distracted by the thought of the new neighbour next door.

Gracie stood in front of the large black fan that spun only the heat onto her burning body. 

"Do you think she'll be a bitch?" Gracie said as she frowned at the fan, turning and twisting her body for the fan to hopefully cool any part of her body.

"Don't swear."

"But will she?"

"How I am supposed to know?" She paused, biting her thin lips, then continued. "But she is related to Dennis."

Gracie smirked as she said in a sing-song voice, "She gonna be a fucking bitch."

Cynthia tried to present her a stern look, however amusement twitched her lips. Eventually, the two girls were silently snickering to each other for their glee had taken a hold of them.

"You know yesterday she was cussing up and down the street. I think she was screaming about how society sucks and that adulthood is a social construct."

"Bet Dennis was jerking off to the sound of her."

"That's gross!"

Gracie laughed at Cynthia's light-hearted repulsion to her words. The room thicken with a heat that make their skin thicken with sweat. The girls didn't mind as much as they could have. They were distracted by giggles and chuckles of happiness.

Gracie went to take a step back and sit on Cynthia's bed, however, her leg gave way when it hit the back of her knee. She fell backwards and allowed her body to crash onto the bed behind her. The wooden legs rattled and her bed shifted in a way that it felt as though the world moved with her. 

Cynthia lost her breathe as her arms pushed herself off the wall. She stopped herself when she noticed amused face Gracie had.

"Gosh darn it, Gracie! You could've broke the bed like that."

"Sorry, dude."

"Imagined if you fell off, hit your head on the floor and split your head open."

"You know what? You remind me of your mom"

"As if."

"You do! Your mom used to lecture me on stuff like that." Gracie lips pursed like she'd been chewing lemons and bitter herbs. "Don't stand on the bed, Gracie. Your head will get cut off by the fun."

Cynthia crossed her arms with amusement resting on her brow.

Gracie sneered and turned her nose up into the air. "Gracie, you'll get hit by that car and die if you don't cross the road with me."

"It's not the same."

"It kind of is."

Cynthia's smile melted into mocking grim line of horror. "Oh god, I'm becoming my mom. The horror!"

Cynthia sagged against the wall close to the window dramatically while Gracie snickered quietly to herself.

"Gracie." A firm voice called outside the door. "Call your mum, she's supposed to pick you up soon."

Cynthia straightened her back as her eyes went wide. "Oh god, you don't think she heard?"

"Don't be a worrywart." Gracie rolled her eyes as she grabbed her phone. She punched in her mother's number and held it to her ear.

"Gracie, you know my mum is-"

Gracie brought her middle finger to her lips as she raised her eyebrows with a quirky expression that held her unruly ideas.

Cynthia bit her lip but dropped the subject. Instead, she grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat off her body. Despite wearing a tank top and shorts, Cynthia's exposed back was wringing with sweat.

"Hey mum, when are you coming?" Gracie muttered into the phone. "Cynthia's mum says you're supposed to be here. Did you forget?"

Cynthia bit her lip as she wiped down her arms, now leaning against the wall where she stood previously. She glanced at her large collection of books on the shelf. It was sorted by colour, which somewhat pleased her though she sometimes had the urge to check if the shades of blue went dimer as her finger traced the books.

This time, however, she found herself her fingers followed the book lining of silverly book covers that faded to become jet-black. The third shelf from the top. The middle of all shelves. She didn't usually read books from this shelf; most were long lengthy books that used an unnecessary amount of words to convey a simple message. It was the kind of books you'd read once and never looked at again. 

Now looking at them again, Cynthia felt tempted to read one. 

"Whatever, just hurry up." Gracie hung up with a frown dominating her face. 

Cynthia jerked her hand back to her side and turned her head to look back at Gracie. She noticed that the phone remained in her hand, almost crashed by the unyielding grip Gracie had on it.

"What happened?"

"She was gardening."

"Are things... you know, okay?"

"Everything is still kind of weird?" Gracie looked down at her feet. "She actually wanted all of us to go on vacation together."

"Even Elliot? Isn't he with your dad now?"

"Yeah. But she said she wanted to see him."

Cynthia raised her eyebrows. "Really? That's progress."

"Sort of. She still called him Olivia."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"She'll get around to it."

Gracie scoffed. "Whatever. I just wanted to mention that I might not be here during the rest of the holidays if we do go."

"It'll be okay."

"Oh my god, I know. Okay?" Gracie mumbled as she ran her fingers through her dark hair. "Jeez, if you wanted to help me, then come with me to Abdullah's party. It's next week, you know? The people there are gonna talk about Elliot and I need you with me."

Gracie's social life expanded so that she was invited to only the best parties of the town. Abdullah was no exception to being popular, nor was his parties unknown. Despite there being a no alcohol or drug policy for his parties, his were the wildest of all the teenage parties out there.

His parents owned a popular hotel on the outskirts of the town. He would typically have three or more rooms dedicated to the party. Each room had an unknown theme. Last year, three rooms were dedicated to the themes of The Great Gatsby, The Illuminati, and dead presidents.

Everyone heard rumours about what occurred behind those doors. Last year, there were extreme dares that involved the arrest of two students and the exposure of dirty dealings. The smartest students in the grade attempted to hack the school system. There were speeches on the art of rebelling, live music and stories about everyone's lives. Just before the end of the party, everyone jumped off the balcony and into the large swimming pool just outside the rooms.

Gracie has been invited to these parties since it first occurred three years ago. Gracie and Abdullah had previously been best friends in their childhood until the latter moved away when they were nine. Although they didn't maintain their closeness even after he returned, the two remained on exceptionally good terms.

In the years prior, Cynthia wasn't invited. This may be due to their communication being limited to a short hello and a quick goodbye whenever they were forced to be together due to their common mutual friends meeting. She preferred to stay at home anyway, and she was sure Abdullah knew this. Much to her surprise, Cynthia received a text message that stated her invite that year, though remain suspicious over it.

Abdullah would invite people who would be categorised as slaves in the sense that they would helping people at the party rather than enjoying it, they would be subjected to do embarrassing and revolting jobs. Gracie tried to reassure her by claiming that it was her who made Abdullah invite the two of them but Cynthia didn't hold any interest in appearing.

"Parties aren't my thing, you know that."

"You're such a prude."

"I'm an extraordinary prude." Cynthia said as she subconsciously allowed her fingers to curl around the ends of the towel around her neck.

"That's because you hang with me."

Cynthia snorted. "Umm... No."

Gracie's phone buzzed in her hand and the screen lit up. She loosen the grip she wasn't aware she had on the phone and hazily looked at the screen. She then pocketed the phone, not bothering to look at the message that appeared properly.

Cynthia felt tempted to press more on the issue on Elliot. Gracie never touched on the subject of him, not since he started transitioning last summer. She would normally navigate herself out of the conversation when it drifted too close to him and his life.

"How is Elli-"

"Let's go downstairs, I want something cold to drink." Gracie said, interrupting Cynthia, as she stood up. "It's too hot up here anyway. Let's wait in the living room, maybe it'll be cooler."

"I have no energy to walk that distance."

"Dude, it's downstairs."

"Yes, that's too far."

"Whatever, mum will be here soon."

Gracie ambled towards the door, not looking back on her.

"Wait a minute," Cynthia muttered as she broke her contact with the wall and followed Gracie, "I'll come with you."

A small smile itched Gracie's face, which she hid from Cynthia knowing that she would take it the wrong way. 

As dull as life was for Cynthia, there were times when the nothingness of life was okay. Her expectations went away and the two girls would talk about minor matters without reservation. Without the need to impress each other through advance vocabulary and subjects that the world had no clue what to fix.

But within those moments, as such when Cynthia left that room, there would be a tingling sensation that roomed in her stomach and stretched to reach her lungs and conceal itself in her heart; a feeling of wanting a little bit more. 

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A/N:   Wow, this took me a long time to write. Sorry about that, not sure what happened. Anyway, thank you for reading this chapter of Cynthia Johnson Stole a Cigarette! Nothing exciting has happened yet but in the next few chapters I promise that the the plot will unfold 😊