“For it was not into my ear you whispered, but into my heart. It was not my lips you kissed. It was my soul.”~ Judy Garland ~
I’ve had other boyfriends. Even though I can’t really call Henry my boyfriend, none of the boys I’ve dated in the past have made me feel the way he does.
Tomorrow is the first day of school. My last year. And I’m dreading it.
I’m sitting in the kitchen and I chew my cornflakes mechanically as I stare at the crème walls. Mom takes a seat next to me and the sound of her coffee cup clinking against the table snaps me to attention. She takes the folded newspaper to her right and spreads it open. She doesn’t look at me, but strikes up a conversation. “Any plans for today? It’s your last day of summer.”
“Ugh,” I growl. “Don’t remind me.” I shovel another spoonful of cornflakes into my mouth. “Hey, Mooom?”
“You swallow that mouthful of food first,” she tells me. “You’re mumbling.”
Mumbling schmumbling. I chew the remainder of my breakfast and swallow. “Do you think I can have some money?”
“For?” There’s and edge to her voice, she doesn’t look at me. The article about the housing market in the paper seems more interesting.
“I need to get a few more things for school.”
“But you got all kinds of new school clothes.”
Clothes that she picked out. We don’t really have the same kind of taste. She’s frillier—more girly. I’m more simple and casual. I didn’t say anything at the time. I just let her buy me the clothes because she took me on the mother-daughter shopping trip right after dad moved and I figured she’d had enough drama over the last few months. Why create more? And the look on her face when I actually let her buy me dresses and pink lacey tops and jewelry warmed my heart. She was so happy—excited. It was the first time I’d seen her like that since I was a child.
“I know,” I say. “I just need a few minor things. Like a couple tank tops.”
“Oh.” She stands and fetches her purse from the counter. “Okay, sweetheart.” She sits back down and pulls out her wallet and hands me a hundred dollar bill. “Is that enough?”
“That’s plenty, mom. I’ll probably have change.”
“Just keep it. You’ll probably need lunch money for the rest of the week.”
“Yeah.” Packing your lunch stopped being cool in elementary school.
****
Rosa honks her horn from my driveway. “Later, mom!” I’m hanging half-way out the door. “I’ll be home in a few hours.”
“Bye, honey! Have fun!”
Meh, fun. I’m not exactly a shopping kind of girl. I like thrift stores and vintage tees. The mall isn’t my scene, but I did eye these awesome ripped jeans in the window of Hollister at the beginning of the summer. Hopefully they still have them. And hopefully they are on sale.
Rosa reaches over and opens the passenger door. She has a 1963 VW bug that her father restored. It’s lime green. We call the small German masterpiece the booger. Sometimes the door handle sticks on the outside so Rosa always has to reach across and open it for me whenever she drives anywhere.
I climb into the car, close the door, and fasten my seatbelt.
“Dude,” Rosa gasps. “How crazy was last night?”
So crazy. So hot. So amazing.“It was something.”
She puts the booger in reverse and backs out of my driveway. “You never texted me back.”
“Sorr
y, but I was too busy wondering when or if I was going to get arrested.” I was also too pre-occupied with Henry.
“So what ended up happening?”
Henry and I had a moment on a dryer. I’m blushing and I don’t say that out loud. In fact we had several moments on the dryer. “I hid in the field behind the house until the cops left.”
“Oh that sucks.”