even laugh about it anymore. She doesn’t laugh about anything much lately.
When we were almost done with our cookie feast, my mom yelled from the kitchen, “Are you two going to the Halloween party like you planned? Just want to make sure you have a great time.”
“Ye—"
Ian interrupted me before I could answer pressing a finger to his lips in slow motion. I didn’t want my mom to tell me I couldn’t go.
“Yes, Mrs. Starmen. I’ll pick her and Caylie up at six o’clock sharp, no lateness. We will use Grace’s car. The party is at a house down from the old church. Don’t worry about how late we are. I’ll get her home safely.” My mom popped her head out and then walked all the way back in the kitchen. Mom never doubted Ian like I thought a good mom should with a teenage boy. But then again, he wasn’t like most teenage boys. He never had been. And he always rescued me from mom’s wrath when I let my temper show. He was sometimes what I termed as a young guy hot bod stuck in a grandpa mind job with ADHD!
We headed out to the old, deserted trampoline Ian and I had adopted as our own hideaway a few years back, shed our shoes, and got comfy for the night. We lay there a while and watched the sun go down then stars were beginning to come out. The chip bag was empty too soon. Ian replaced the green rose that fell off my ear that I’d plucked off my mom’s rose bush out of tradition for our trampoline nights. His fingertips touched the tip of my ear making me shiver which for the first time ever, didn't go unnoticed.
My mind wandered to keep from thinking about his touch. I had been tossing around in my head the idea of what makes someone know their point in life. I liked to ponder the stuff no one else did. When does it become my turn to be important in the world or important to somebody or just be important to the person I wanted the most? My dad used to say, “You’ll know when you’ve found that one reason why Grace Starmen becomes worthy of the history books. Whether it’s your devotion to some cause, major event that changes you or the history around you, or simply your contributions to society.” My dad was always tied up in his law firm and stocks. There was an answer for everything in his eyes. Why couldn’t he explain me, then? I was too far from normal.
“Any dreams last night?” he asked as his daily question of the hour caught up to us. Although this was usually in the car ride to school or in the parking lot as he attached his helmet to the bike, I’d woken up late and he’d ridden the bike. Why he didn’t just call and wake me up, I wasn’t sure. But, I didn’t want to seem overbearing, so I stayed quiet for the fourth time in the day.
I nodded to him and lied, “Same! But didn’t you ask me that this morning?”
“No, Princess Sleepyhead. You slept in late, remember?” His eyes stared intently forcing me to either continue looking or away. I chose to stare back giving me the shock, not him like I intended.
“Oh yeah!” Feeling guilty, I still liked reminding him he didn’t wake me up. Again, he continued to stare as if waiting for another answer. Finally, I gave in. “No new ending?” he said watching me squirm beside him. I didn’t answer this time either, but slid over to lie on his arm he’d extended out for my head. Sometimes a dream was just that, a dream. Or rather, this is what I had to keep believing because the alternative wasn’t a possible reality. And besides, does the good guy really always win? My dream started out as a nightmare. And well, sometimes one also had to just believe that a nightmare is just that, a nightmare. Dreams! Nightmares! It’s not like they are windows of the future.
I changed the subject. He knew my mind jumped around a lot.
“Do you think it makes me special to have been born on Halloween? Weird things do happen to
When we were almost done with our cookie feast, my mom yelled from the kitchen, “Are you two going to the Halloween party like you planned? Just want to make sure you have a great time.”
“Ye—"
Ian interrupted me before I could answer pressing a finger to his lips in slow motion. I didn’t want my mom to tell me I couldn’t go.
“Yes, Mrs. Starmen. I’ll pick her and Caylie up at six o’clock sharp, no lateness. We will use Grace’s car. The party is at a house down from the old church. Don’t worry about how late we are. I’ll get her home safely.” My mom popped her head out and then walked all the way back in the kitchen. Mom never doubted Ian like I thought a good mom should with a teenage boy. But then again, he wasn’t like most teenage boys. He never had been. And he always rescued me from mom’s wrath when I let my temper show. He was sometimes what I termed as a young guy hot bod stuck in a grandpa mind job with ADHD!
We headed out to the old, deserted trampoline Ian and I had adopted as our own hideaway a few years back, shed our shoes, and got comfy for the night. We lay there a while and watched the sun go down then stars were beginning to come out. The chip bag was empty too soon. Ian replaced the green rose that fell off my ear that I’d plucked off my mom’s rose bush out of tradition for our trampoline nights. His fingertips touched the tip of my ear making me shiver which for the first time ever, didn't go unnoticed.
My mind wandered to keep from thinking about his touch. I had been tossing around in my head the idea of what makes someone know their point in life. I liked to ponder the stuff no one else did. When does it become my turn to be important in the world or important to somebody or just be important to the person I wanted the most? My dad used to say, “You’ll know when you’ve found that one reason why Grace Starmen becomes worthy of the history books. Whether it’s your devotion to some cause, major event that changes you or the history around you, or simply your contributions to society.” My dad was always tied up in his law firm and stocks. There was an answer for everything in his eyes. Why couldn’t he explain me, then? I was too far from normal.
“Any dreams last night?” he asked as his daily question of the hour caught up to us. Although this was usually in the car ride to school or in the parking lot as he attached his helmet to the bike, I’d woken up late and he’d ridden the bike. Why he didn’t just call and wake me up, I wasn’t sure. But, I didn’t want to seem overbearing, so I stayed quiet for the fourth time in the day.
I nodded to him and lied, “Same! But didn’t you ask me that this morning?”
“No, Princess Sleepyhead. You slept in late, remember?” His eyes stared intently forcing me to either continue looking or away. I chose to stare back giving me the shock, not him like I intended.
“Oh yeah!” Feeling guilty, I still liked reminding him he didn’t wake me up. Again, he continued to stare as if waiting for another answer. Finally, I gave in. “No new ending?” he said watching me squirm beside him. I didn’t answer this time either, but slid over to lie on his arm he’d extended out for my head. Sometimes a dream was just that, a dream. Or rather, this is what I had to keep believing because the alternative wasn’t a possible reality. And besides, does the good guy really always win? My dream started out as a nightmare. And well, sometimes one also had to just believe that a nightmare is just that, a nightmare. Dreams! Nightmares! It’s not like they are windows of the future.
I changed the subject. He knew my mind jumped around a lot.
“Do you think it makes me special to have been born on Halloween? Weird things do happen to
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