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James HiggersonREMEMBERING THE FIRSTYou have to remember your first, don't you? You plan for it for ages, you feel nervous, daring even. You're breaking the rules and stepping into adult territory for the first time. You won't enjoy the first one; you'll wonder what all of the fuss was about. My first was with a boy called Christian; it was in the woods near my parents' house when I was fourteen. Secluded from the nearby houses, it was the perfect place for us to be discreet and for me to experiment. I had always been curious. He'd done it before. In fact it was his idea. He'd been dabbling for months and I guess I was intrigued to know what the fuss was about. Throughout my life people had been telling me that it was wrong and disgusting, and it was never something I had aspired to. It was definitely not a life choice. But word got round at school that it was fun and it was the cool thing to do, and with that I couldn't resist. Jamie Hampson put me in touch with someone who might be able to help me out. He told me I was to meet him on the top deck of the school bus. I just hoped my brother wouldn't see what I was up to. ...I held it using November as cover for my shaky hands... Twenty-five pence, he informed me and I willingly gave him my cash in return for an Embassy Regal suffering from days of being concealed in a school bag. The moment I held the slightly crumpled tab in my hand, my balls retracted with the anticipation. My bus-top friends were not academics, but I was well on my way to being, well, not quite cool, but cooler than I was. I returned to my friends on the lower deck in my rightful place with the older but less desirable kids.Christian was coming round my house for tea. Drinking tea seemed an inane Friday-night pastime in light of the growing up I was planning to do that day. I had nice parents, no desire to be a bad boy and I wasn't bowing to peer-pressure; I just wanted to know what it was like. I wanted to be older than I was and this was a good way to start. School speeches about the dangers glamorised it further. All of the interesting characters in Grange Hill had tried smoking. Besides, I wouldn't get hooked. I was stronger than that.  Christian arrived at my house just after twenty past four. He had acquired a lighter, some Lynx Africa and a box of Smints. We were set. My mother was due home shortly after five so we needed to be quick. Still in our school uniforms, I gazed around to make sure no neighbours were watching as we set off from the house. It was a short journey down two streets and across a small bit of wasteland before we entered the woods. They were barely woods - merely a patch of trees that hadn't been culled in favour of the middle-class suburban units, one of which I resided in. I used to take the dog down here when I was eleven - the first duty of trust my parents had given me and the furthest I'd been allowed to walk alone at the time. Now I could go to school and back as well as all the way to Asda, crossing two main roads. Down a muddy slope, we sat down on the wall of a sewer opening, the water gushing below our feet as I produced the war-torn cigarette. Hungrily, Christian took it from me and whipped out the lighter, asserting his expertise in the presence of me: the novice. He took a couple of drags, gagged a little as he exhaled and looked away as he passed me the cigarette. I held it, using November as cover for my shaky hands. I brought it to my lips and took one hell of a drag. The tip lit enthusiastically, confirming that I was doing it right. Then breathe in. That was the rules. Breathe in once, then breathe in more... and let it all out. With the smoke, a sense of disorientation flooded my brain. I wanted to sit down, but I was already sitting down. It wasn't the vile experiment that I had anticipated. I hadn't thought I'd enjoy it, but I'd finally found something I was good at. I celebrate my tenth anniversary in November, in spite of the vomiting that had occurred only forty-three seconds after my first drag. James Higgerson is a 24-year-old from Manchester who's waiting for agents to tell him what they think of his first novel. Cassie Leedham took a winding path through French, writing, art and psycholinguistics before becoming a Graphic Designer. She now freelances as part of the Attenshun collective in Coventry and tutors part-time on the Graphic Design degree course she graduated from. Cassie produces all forms of graphic design, including brochures, books, stationary, magazines, branding, websites, film props, greetings cards, wedding invitations, animations and anything else you can throw at her. She has a passion for interactive print design, Texas Hold 'Em and all things vintage and misprinted.
11:07 AM - 29/5/2006 - post comment
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