Full disclosure: I smoked for 3 weeks in 9th grade, back when a pack of smokes cost 35 cents and anyone was welcome to purchase them. It seemed like a rite of passage I had to try and I'm often grateful that I didn't become hooked. Actually, it's nothing shy of a miracle, given that my childhood airspace contained enough second hand smoke to rival China's skies.
The dogs and I have a favorite route for our afternoon walk that takes us through a narrow side street where high school students gather at day's end. Most are puffing away with great gusto when we make our way through. Those I know by name look away from me and I wonder if they hope I might not recognize them if they turn their faces.
School's been in session for 4 weeks. I guess they've got me beat.