someone blowing in a microphone.
“No…it’s not that. I just…until just now I thought I was doing a really good job at not being noticed.”
He laughed out loud again and it washed over my soul like a cool breeze.
“Well, apparently it didn’t work on me.”
I laughed , too , and my own free laughter surprised me. We talked about everything and I yawned a little too loudly when it had reached just after 10:00.
“Hey,” he said “I’ m sorry; we’ve been on the phone for hours. You probably need to get some sleep.”
I laughed. “Me? You, you need to get some sleep.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, I kinda do. But I wanted to see if you wanted to go see a movie Friday night.”
I answered without thinking. “ Yeah, what time?”
He let out a breath and then answered, “How about I just pick you up at 6 and then we can check the movie times and then walk around until it starts?”
“OK, I just have to ask my parents when they get home. But I’m 18 so they can’t really say ‘No’ right?” I laughed , but he didn’t.
“Well, ask them when they get back. I’ll see you tomorrow, ok? Sleep tight and make sure you lock the doors and everything. ”
“Yeah, you , too,” I hung up the phone and my blissful mood was soured.
My hand was still on the receiver and stayed there while I thought this through. The feeling of doom creeped up my spine like a black virus.
Are they gonna pitch a fit? They don’t even speak to me, why would they care? I’m 18, they can’t stop me though, right? I’ve always done everything they asked me to. I make good grades. Why wouldn’t they? I have to date sometime right?
All of the sudden I heard a car in the driveway. I sped as quickly as I could to my bedroom, jumped into the bed, and pretended the best I could that I was asleep. Someone came in and put May to bed and then I heard various bathroom noises and talking and then their bedroom door closed. I slowly let out the breath that I had been holding for what seemed like an hour and let myself relax. I decided that I wouldn’t obsess about the what - ifs and focused only on this newfound feeling of wholeness and serenity.
Chapter 9
The next morning was routine. I got up, got dressed in an old French Quarter t shirt and jeans and of course my Chucks. Everyone was asleep and I crept out quietly and got to school.
School was normal school. I forced myself, again, to pay attention just to stop myself from thinking about him every 5 seconds. I walked finally to Drama and there was a note on the theater door that said “End of the Year Party in Classroom”.
I turned around and started back the way I came. I entered the classroom last and went directly to a seat in the back corner. As soon as I did Mr. Escobar was clapping his hands in a gesture to gain the class’ attention. Everyone stopped talking and faced forward. I let my eyes wander and found the pair of eyes I wished most to see. He was watching the Mr. Escobar as he flailed his hands about as he went on and on about the success of the play and how “wonderful” it was. Carlos was paying attention, but his knee was bouncing, a sign I now recognized as either boredom or nervousness. I leaned my face in my palm and tried not to be so obvious about looking at him. I commanded my eyes to stay on the flamboyant Mr. Escobar as he gushed with praises on our mediocre
“No…it’s not that. I just…until just now I thought I was doing a really good job at not being noticed.”
He laughed out loud again and it washed over my soul like a cool breeze.
“Well, apparently it didn’t work on me.”
I laughed , too , and my own free laughter surprised me. We talked about everything and I yawned a little too loudly when it had reached just after 10:00.
“Hey,” he said “I’ m sorry; we’ve been on the phone for hours. You probably need to get some sleep.”
I laughed. “Me? You, you need to get some sleep.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, I kinda do. But I wanted to see if you wanted to go see a movie Friday night.”
I answered without thinking. “ Yeah, what time?”
He let out a breath and then answered, “How about I just pick you up at 6 and then we can check the movie times and then walk around until it starts?”
“OK, I just have to ask my parents when they get home. But I’m 18 so they can’t really say ‘No’ right?” I laughed , but he didn’t.
“Well, ask them when they get back. I’ll see you tomorrow, ok? Sleep tight and make sure you lock the doors and everything. ”
“Yeah, you , too,” I hung up the phone and my blissful mood was soured.
My hand was still on the receiver and stayed there while I thought this through. The feeling of doom creeped up my spine like a black virus.
Are they gonna pitch a fit? They don’t even speak to me, why would they care? I’m 18, they can’t stop me though, right? I’ve always done everything they asked me to. I make good grades. Why wouldn’t they? I have to date sometime right?
All of the sudden I heard a car in the driveway. I sped as quickly as I could to my bedroom, jumped into the bed, and pretended the best I could that I was asleep. Someone came in and put May to bed and then I heard various bathroom noises and talking and then their bedroom door closed. I slowly let out the breath that I had been holding for what seemed like an hour and let myself relax. I decided that I wouldn’t obsess about the what - ifs and focused only on this newfound feeling of wholeness and serenity.
Chapter 9
The next morning was routine. I got up, got dressed in an old French Quarter t shirt and jeans and of course my Chucks. Everyone was asleep and I crept out quietly and got to school.
School was normal school. I forced myself, again, to pay attention just to stop myself from thinking about him every 5 seconds. I walked finally to Drama and there was a note on the theater door that said “End of the Year Party in Classroom”.
I turned around and started back the way I came. I entered the classroom last and went directly to a seat in the back corner. As soon as I did Mr. Escobar was clapping his hands in a gesture to gain the class’ attention. Everyone stopped talking and faced forward. I let my eyes wander and found the pair of eyes I wished most to see. He was watching the Mr. Escobar as he flailed his hands about as he went on and on about the success of the play and how “wonderful” it was. Carlos was paying attention, but his knee was bouncing, a sign I now recognized as either boredom or nervousness. I leaned my face in my palm and tried not to be so obvious about looking at him. I commanded my eyes to stay on the flamboyant Mr. Escobar as he gushed with praises on our mediocre
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