up in the middle of the night, and risk being arrested by the sheriff.”
The way Mom put it, my suspicions sounded silly, and I couldn’t help smiling.
“Now,” Mom said. “Tell me more about Tammy and her parents. And if you’re going to visit her home I’ll want to know where she lives.”
Tammy and I managed to make some progress on our history project, but we mostly talked about some of the crazy things we did in junior high.
“When I was fourteen I filled out all of a sudden,” Tammy said, “and I thought I was really cool, so when I saw this guy I liked coming down the walk, I leaned out the open window of our classroom and struck a glamorouspose. The only problem was I misjudged the distance and fell out the window into a ligustrum bush. The guy helped me out, and that was the end of a possible romance.”
I laughed until I got the hiccups, but finally I was able to talk again. “I got so clothes-conscious I decided to come to school one day dressed like one of the models in a fashion magazine. I thought the look was fantastic, with a longish skirt and scarves around my head and neck and waist, and I had even expected people to stare with admiration. What I hadn’t expected was for all the kids to laugh. It wasn’t until my best friend pulled me into the girls’ room that I found I’d caught the hem of the back of my skirt in my pantyhose.”
“You didn’t!” Tammy squealed, and we both flopped over on the floor howling and screeching.
“Is the homework getting done?” Tammy’s mother called from the next room.
“Yes, ma’am,” Tammy said, which made us start laughing all over again.
On Saturday, close to three o’clock, Lana Jean arrived at our house, the trio of dogs loudly announcing her coming. Her T-shirt had streaks of old makeup around the neckline, and her jeans looked like the ones she’d been wearing all week.
After she said hello to Mom, I led Lana Jean to the front porch, out of Mom’s way. I said, “I’ll get some Cokes and Oreos, and you can eat while I read what you’ve written in your journal.”
“Journal?” she said, and gasped. “Oh, no! Would you believe I went off and left it on my bed?”
“How could you leave it, when that’s the reason why you were coming here?”
She looked a little hurt. “Well, there are other reasons too. Like being friends.”
While I fumbled for the right thing to say, Lana Jean went on, as though our friendship was taken for granted. “And I was thinking about the carnival.”
Tammy and Julie had asked me to go to the carnival with them, and I’d had to turn them down because Mom had practically insisted that Lana Jean and I go together. I wasn’t any too eager to go to the carnival in the first place. “Listen, Lana Jean,” I said. “About the carnival … I really don’t …”
She wasn’t listening to me. Her cheeks grew pink as she rattled on: “I wish I could go with Travis, but of course he didn’t ask me, and I don’t want to go alone. What time should we
get
there? I wish I knew what time Travis is going and if he’s going with a date or with his friends, but I don’t, so why don’t we get there at seven?”
She paused to take a breath, and I said, “Listen to me, Lana Jean. I don’t want to go to the carnival.”
“Oh, sure you do!” she cried, and the pleading in her face was awful to see. And then she said something that hit me in the stomach like a fist. “Usually I go to the carnival alone. That’s not much fun.”
“Well … okay. I’ll go,” I said. But I took a good look at Lana Jean and came up with an idea that made me feel a lot more hopeful about the whole thing. “You didn’t bringyour journal,” I said, “and we’ve got some time to kill, so why don’t we do our hair and makeup and stuff?”
“I didn’t bring any makeup.”
“That’s okay. I’ve got some sample stuff from a department store giveaway that I haven’t opened because it would look terrible on
The way Mom put it, my suspicions sounded silly, and I couldn’t help smiling.
“Now,” Mom said. “Tell me more about Tammy and her parents. And if you’re going to visit her home I’ll want to know where she lives.”
Tammy and I managed to make some progress on our history project, but we mostly talked about some of the crazy things we did in junior high.
“When I was fourteen I filled out all of a sudden,” Tammy said, “and I thought I was really cool, so when I saw this guy I liked coming down the walk, I leaned out the open window of our classroom and struck a glamorouspose. The only problem was I misjudged the distance and fell out the window into a ligustrum bush. The guy helped me out, and that was the end of a possible romance.”
I laughed until I got the hiccups, but finally I was able to talk again. “I got so clothes-conscious I decided to come to school one day dressed like one of the models in a fashion magazine. I thought the look was fantastic, with a longish skirt and scarves around my head and neck and waist, and I had even expected people to stare with admiration. What I hadn’t expected was for all the kids to laugh. It wasn’t until my best friend pulled me into the girls’ room that I found I’d caught the hem of the back of my skirt in my pantyhose.”
“You didn’t!” Tammy squealed, and we both flopped over on the floor howling and screeching.
“Is the homework getting done?” Tammy’s mother called from the next room.
“Yes, ma’am,” Tammy said, which made us start laughing all over again.
On Saturday, close to three o’clock, Lana Jean arrived at our house, the trio of dogs loudly announcing her coming. Her T-shirt had streaks of old makeup around the neckline, and her jeans looked like the ones she’d been wearing all week.
After she said hello to Mom, I led Lana Jean to the front porch, out of Mom’s way. I said, “I’ll get some Cokes and Oreos, and you can eat while I read what you’ve written in your journal.”
“Journal?” she said, and gasped. “Oh, no! Would you believe I went off and left it on my bed?”
“How could you leave it, when that’s the reason why you were coming here?”
She looked a little hurt. “Well, there are other reasons too. Like being friends.”
While I fumbled for the right thing to say, Lana Jean went on, as though our friendship was taken for granted. “And I was thinking about the carnival.”
Tammy and Julie had asked me to go to the carnival with them, and I’d had to turn them down because Mom had practically insisted that Lana Jean and I go together. I wasn’t any too eager to go to the carnival in the first place. “Listen, Lana Jean,” I said. “About the carnival … I really don’t …”
She wasn’t listening to me. Her cheeks grew pink as she rattled on: “I wish I could go with Travis, but of course he didn’t ask me, and I don’t want to go alone. What time should we
get
there? I wish I knew what time Travis is going and if he’s going with a date or with his friends, but I don’t, so why don’t we get there at seven?”
She paused to take a breath, and I said, “Listen to me, Lana Jean. I don’t want to go to the carnival.”
“Oh, sure you do!” she cried, and the pleading in her face was awful to see. And then she said something that hit me in the stomach like a fist. “Usually I go to the carnival alone. That’s not much fun.”
“Well … okay. I’ll go,” I said. But I took a good look at Lana Jean and came up with an idea that made me feel a lot more hopeful about the whole thing. “You didn’t bringyour journal,” I said, “and we’ve got some time to kill, so why don’t we do our hair and makeup and stuff?”
“I didn’t bring any makeup.”
“That’s okay. I’ve got some sample stuff from a department store giveaway that I haven’t opened because it would look terrible on
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