Authors: Danielle Sibarium
Maria inched closer and put her ear next to the phone.
“He’s a loser. Tell her to stay away from him.”
I didn’t know what to say, but I wasn’t ready to end the call. “She likes him,” I started, “but I’m pretty sure she likes you more.” This time she jabbed me hard in the ribs and I winced.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
“Fine,” I answered, getting off the bed and out of the line of fire. “Just stubbed my toe. I was thinking, maybe if you like her, too . . . ”
He interrupted. “I have a girlfriend.”
“Oh.” I answered, feeling much more disappointed than I should have. I should have been relieved. If he didn’t have a girlfriend, the possibility existed Maria may have soon taken that title. And I would’ve helped. At least I didn’t have to suffer that indignity.
“Tell Maria to call me. Sammy really is bad news.”
“I will.” I wished I could find something to say that would hold his interest and keep him on the phone a little longer. But there was nothing more to say.
“Bye.”
And then it was over.
A theater attendant approached and pulled back the red rope. Movement multiplied as people filtered from the lobby to the concession stand or into the theater. Maria nudged me forward. We skipped the treats, having snuck pretzels and water in our oversized messenger bags. We found two seats in the middle of a row about ten places back from the screen.
Sitting this close made it difficult to look around undetected. I kept shifting in my seat, trying to find him and whomever he was with. No matter which way I looked, I couldn’t spot him.
I listened intently to the conversations around me hoping to hear something helpful, his voice, his name. Anything. I didn’t. The lights went dark and my mind drifted. I couldn’t pay attention to the movie. Wizards flew across the screen and I sat dreaming of Jordan.
After the movie, Maria and I began our walk home. A cool breeze blew through the early October air. I looked up at the starry sky about to make a wish when a pair of hands covered my eyes. I let out a frightened shriek. Once I heard Maria’s laugh I knew I had nothing to fear.
“Guess who?” A gruff male voice said.
I stood speechless, trembling with excitement.
“Go ahead, guess,” he demanded still trying to disguise his voice.
I’d recognize him anywhere, “Jordan.”
He took one hand off me completely and slid his other around my shoulder. “Now do you believe I know who you are?”
“I guess,” I wanted to hide how thrilled I felt he did.
I looked at his arm still draped over my shoulder and hoped he forgot he placed it there. A million thoughts ran through my head. I kept searching for the right words, but they never made their way from my head to my mouth.
I couldn’t believe how tongue-tied I was. I wanted to talk. I wanted to be witty and funny. But I couldn’t think of anything except how good it felt to have his arm around me.
“I thought I’d walk you children home.”
I felt blood race to my cheeks at the thought of his company. And then his words sunk in, one word in particular.
“Children?” I asked. A twisting of my stomach made me feel queasy. Is that what he really thought of us?
He smiled. “I am a lot older than you two.”
“Oh please, a few years,” Maria rolled her eyes, “Get over yourself!”
“According to this,” he took his arm off my shoulder, pulled out his wallet and handed me a photo ID, “I’m 21. This gets me into bars, clubs. Anywhere I want to go.”
“Let me see that,” Maria snatched it out of my hand.
“How old are you really?” I asked.
“Eighteen,” he answered.
“Anyone with half a brain would realize this is a fake,” Maria said as if she were an expert on the subject.
Jordan snatched his ID away from Maria, placed it back in his wallet, and then put his arm around my shoulder again. This time he made a conscious decision to put it there. Something about this small gesture made me feel pretty and frilly, and lighter than air. I couldn’t wipe the wide, clownish grin off my face.
We lived seven short blocks from the movie theater. Jordan walked with us all the way home. More than half way there, he pointed his house out as we passed it. I perked up with interest.
He lived in front of the bus stop. I never noticed him outside. Maria and I stood off to the side in the morning, away from the others. I often kept my head down, eyes glued to the cement as I stood there, unless Maria and I were speaking. The other kids made me nervous. They knew each other and made fun of everyone. I wanted to keep off their radar.
And then he looked at me, “So Steph, what did you think of the movie?”
I stood speechless. What could I say? Uh Jordan, I don’t remember the movie. I am super focused on the fact you live directly in front of the bus stop, yet I have not once seen you on the bus?
Maria saved the day, “I loved the way they flew on the broom sticks. If only I could do that.”
I looked down at the ground and smirked thinking she already does.
“Hey,” Jordan squeezed my shoulder, “What’s so funny?”
I shook my head, and worked hard to wipe the smile off my face. “Nothing.”
“How come you don’t talk to me?”
“I did on the phone.” The words slipped out before I had time to think. I darted my eyes to the side and bit my bottom lip feeling queasy again.
He grinned. “I mean when you see me.”
I shrugged and looked down. “I don’t know. I guess I don’t have much to say.”
He raised an eyebrow and chuckled, “Yeah, right.”
“Why do you care?” I challenged.
He ignored the question completely, which made me wonder, why did he care?
“One of these days I’ll get you to talk,” he assured me.
Much too soon we arrived home. My moment with Jordan ended. Before heading up the steps to our respective homes right next door to each other, Maria kissed Jordan on the cheek and said goodbye. I started to head up my side of the steps when he called to me.
“Stephanie.”
I turned wondering what he could possibly want.
“No goodbye kiss?”
I almost choked. I thought I imagined it. But he stood there, waiting. I half expected to see smoke rising up around us while slow music played in the background. I thought of B-rated movies starring gorgeous actors cast as lovesick teenagers. And there I stood, in my first starring role, the unknown love interest. It was an opportunity I wasn’t about to pass up.
I kissed him on the cheek, said goodbye, and went in the house. I ran to the window and looked out after him. I watched his figure for as far as I could see, growing smaller and smaller in the distance.
My mother came into the living room and asked if I had a good time.
“The best,” I answered.
I went to sleep that night with a smile plastered on my face. In a boy/girl sort of way, Jordan knew I existed!
Two
Long before the day arrived, I knew this Halloween would be unforgettable. Every year, Maria’s mother, along with my own, would go on about how kids of today don’t know how to have fun. They told endless stories about the good old days, and what they did to celebrate their days of tricks and treats.
Maria thought this year, our first in high school, was the perfect one to revive a crazy, but fun tradition, and get it back on the map. She knew if she succeeded, she’d go down as a legend!
For the two weeks leading up to Halloween, Maria operated at full throttle, getting both participants and supplies. With her unrelenting visions and promises of how we would be worshiped, she managed to convince me, and five school friends, we had to give it a shot.
We were going “Bombing.”
The objective: to cover each other in a foamy sticky mess of eggs and shaving cream. Once our classmates arrived we set out fully armed with: two dozen eggs and three Barbasol cans each, regular, not menthol. Menthol would burn if it got in our eyes.
We ran home from the bus and quickly changed into layers of our oldest, grungiest clothes. After throwing on a pair of jeans, I swept my dirty blond hair off my shoulders up into a ponytail. Maria wore a baseball cap to protect hers.
We barely cleared the porch steps before the fun began. Fragile white orbs flew through the air like ping pong balls landing with a thump and a splat, sometimes on the hard concrete, sometimes on the back of someone’s head. The shaving cream - white confetti - decorated us and the landscape.
A pack of fluffy white ghosts, we headed down the blocks of our neighborhood, leaving a white, slug-like trail behind us. One of the girls in the group, Beth, asked Maria if she knew where Jordan lived.
“Sure,” Maria said and led the way.
“He’s got a girlfriend,” I said tapping my foot and rolling my eyes impatiently realizing Beth liked him.
“I’m sure they broke up by now.” Maria chimed in.
I didn’t answer. I hoped they did break up but not so Beth could go out with him.
Maria was brazen, not at all intimidated. She walked right up to his house and rang the doorbell. When his mother answered, Maria spoke to her like they were old friends.
Once she returned to us, Maria barely had a chance to open her mouth before Beth interrupted, “Is he home?”
She reminded me of a circus dog waiting anxiously to jump through a flaming hoop to get its prize. The reward: Jordan. Beth kept fidgeting with her hands and giggling for no reason. I found this particularly annoying. When she laughed, she sounded phony and nasal, almost like an annoying car alarm. A feeling of anger bubbled up inside me.
“He should be home in about fifteen minutes.” Maria informed us. “He stayed for a meeting with the school newspaper.”
Jordan wrote for the newspaper?
I had no idea. I’d have to be sure to read his column. Just one more thing to admire. I wondered what other things I’d yet to learn about him, and if I’d have the opportunity to find out.
“Let’s go. I don’t feel like waiting here,” I said in a huff.
“I want to wait, let’s wait,” Beth whined.
I wanted to drag her away. I looked at her long skinny body. I didn’t like it. She was too thin, unlike me, who sat on the other side of the scale. I noticed for the first time her thick long eye lashes and wondered if Jordan would notice them too. I heard guys like girls with long eye lashes.
I kept sizing myself up to Beth. Although I’d rather stick knives in my eyeballs than admit it, I admired the way the sun rays reflected copper highlights from her shiny auburn hair, unlike the dull frizzy mess I had to contend with. And her chestnut eyes perfectly matched with her hair and olive skin tone.
Again I found fault with my boring brown eyes and pale skin. I often thought God tossed aside his plan for me and stuck me with whatever parts he had left over. I could have been gorgeous with light colored eyes. Or if my hair and skin tone were darker. But I had to live with what I was given, and be grateful for it, even if I didn’t agree.
I saw something out of the corner of my eye. My heartbeat changed. It picked up pace, beating harder, quicker. Jordan walked our way. Decked out in a pair of jeans and a nice shirt, he was in no manner dressed to hang out with a bunch of girls covered in gook. Still I had hope.
He acknowledged us briefly with a smile and a quick wave of his hand before disappearing into his house.
“See, he doesn’t want to hang out with us,” I said.
“Yes he does. You’ll see,” Beth assured me, widening her eyes for emphasis.
I couldn’t believe her. Could she be any more obvious? And in the condition we were in? I certainly didn’t want him to see me with egg yolk frizzing up my hair. I wondered how Beth could be so confident. And then I realized she didn’t look that bad. She wasn’t covered in nearly half as much junk as the rest of us.
I started up the ruckus again spraying Maria, knowing she wouldn’t mind. And even if she did, she’d get over it. A flock of sheep, the rest of the group followed and then my moment of glory came.
“Look, Beth’s still clean,” I announced, wishing I had opted for the menthol.
I wonder what he’ll think of you now, I laughed to myself, an evil menacing laugh sounding in my mind. That is, until I felt a tap on my shoulder.