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Mr. InvincibleJordan EdwardsOur usual fifteen-minute drive to the gymis now filled with clouds of smoke from halfa pack of cigarettes instead of long conversation.As we cruise along the bluff, lookingat the frozen lake, I crack the window (evenat 30 degrees) to give the smoke a placeto escape, for a source of fresh air. Heʼsmanaged to light up two cigarettes from thetime we left the house to the time we pulledinto South Shore. He takes one last dragbefore he drops the bud on the ground andwe make our way toward the treadmills.And after only ten minutes of running,my brother wonders why he is bent over,panting heavily, and has to stop. Itʼs as ifeverything Iʼve said to him goes in one earand out the other. “Why does it matter? Iʼmgonna die someday,” he says as he lights upanother cigarette for the drive home.I canʼt understand why David wont quitsmoking after seeing my grandma die oflung cancer. I question if he notices mygrandpaʼs eyes brighten, and then saddenwhen we bring her up at dinnertime,his struggle to hold back tears even after2 years. I wonder why he disregards theSurgeon Generalʼs Warning posted on everypack of his Marlboro cigarettes. My brother,like millions of teenagers today, still choosesto light up even after reading the SurgeonGeneralʼs Warning. Even after seeing theTruth adds. Even after listening to a familymember nagging you to quit.Teenagers think theyʼre invincible. Theythink they can go through life toughskinned,that it will never happen to them,that even though they choose to live theirlife in the fast lane— theyʼll make it throughwithout a ding or bruise. I see this kind ofmentality in my brother, David. He doesnʼtsee the true harm heʼs doing to himselfevery time he buys a new pack.Many people, like David, fail to thinkabout their futures. Millions of “Invincible”teenagers today donʼt think about thefamilies, their thriving careers, and theirfreedom they may have to give up twentyyears from now when they are diagnosedwith lung cancer. Nobodyʼs thinking abouthealth, about having to miss their childʼssoccer game because of a chemo treatment.Like my grandma, they will be counting thedays, not knowing the last time they willsee their loved ones. They will have to livein fear, in pain, and in regret. Their choiceto smoke will affect their children, friends,and family. Seeing their children grow upmay be out of the question, and it will allgo back to a choice they made as adolescents—thechoice to smoke.So why, even after all these repercussionsare drilled into teenagers heads, do theychoose to light up? Is it to look cool? Tolose weight? To fit in with the party scene?Itʼs a question I donʼt have answer to. Afterseeing the rapid decline in my grandmaʼslife after her lung cancer diagnosis and thepain she went through before her death, Idonʼt think Iʼll ever be able to understandpeopleʼs justifications for why they smoke.I refuse to listen to my brotherʼs argumentfor his habit, and I am disappointed thatafter my grandmaʼs death, he didnʼt learnanything about the consequences of smoking.He thinks heʼs invincible, that it wonʼthappen tohim. But I wont stop nagging him untilthe drives home are smoke free and I canroll down the window to feel a cool breezeblow through my hair instead of clearing acloud of smoke.Danielle MoitNot There YetRyan PawloskiOpening the double doors to alecture hall and quickly greeting mystudents, I take my position at thefront of the room. I waste no timelaunching into the detailed process ofchemical bonding. A student raiseshis hand, and we start into a discussionabout covalent bonds. After tenminutes of this, I pause, realizing thatmy students have begun to teach mejust as much as I have taught them. Ismile to myself. Discussions like thisone are why I wanted to teach after Iretired.Iʼm not there yet though.Letʼs step back about twenty years.Iʼm working in a chemistry lab, researchinga new medicine which willhopefully aid millions of people infights against a number of deadlydiseases. Just last year I helped developmedication that froze cancer cellsin their tracks. Working in a researchlab allows me to continue to learn andapply my chemistry knowledge evenafter I have graduated from textbooksand dorm rooms. I get to help peopleand keep learning at the same time.My dream.Still not quite there.Ten years earlier, Iʼm sitting inmy dorm room laboring away at atextbook thicker than the EncyclopediaBritannica. Hand shaking, I finishwhat seems to be the hundredth pageof notes on stoichiometry, gas laws,and titrations. Even as I relieve thepain in my hand, I canʼt wait for thenext set of notes for calculus. I gatherup my books and head out the door.I have to get to class early to talk tothe professor about an internship at achemistry lab that Iʼm interestedin.Iʼm almost there.A year earlier, Iʼm sitting in mybasement. The only light in the roomglows from the computer monitor.Tapping on the keys, I form wordson the page—writing out my future.I check every word and check everyconvention, hoping this essay helpsgive me the opportunity to make thatfuture happen. I hit print. That iswhere I am now.afterglow 21