Embracing You, Embracing Me - A Coming of Age Romance (Fingerpress Life Stories), Page 2

  That night at Amber’s house, Amber sat down and recounted every juicy detail of her first kiss, gushing over how incredibly wonderful and sweet it was. As the energy of the night dwindled down, Amber looked exhausted and drifted off as she rambled incoherently about kisses and love.

  I, however, lay quietly in the dark, my body still buzzing from the excitement of the day, thinking of Mystery Guy and if I might get a chance to see him again.

  “Man, good thing it was a good hair day,” I murmured into the dark room, smiling as I too drifted off thinking of possible future kisses.

  Chapter 2

  The chill of autumn came without warning that year. One day the weather was toasty and pleasant with the sun’s rays still warming your skin, the next day the air had a cold bite to it that you felt in your bones.

  Monday morning, I sauntered out to the bus stop in jeans and a warm hoodie. Glancing down the road I spotted Sabrina bopping along to her Walkman as she approached.

  Sabrina lived on the other side of the trailer park and although we caught the bus at the same stop it was almost a year before we eventually became friends. Sabrina was a year older and only had a few friends. Everyone else got the ‘talk to me and die’ stare from her. She wasn’t outwardly mean; she just put out that ‘talk to the hand’ vibe.

  Six other students met at that bus stop every morning, but Tina was the only one Sabrina would talk to. And watching Sabrina talk was entertainment in and of itself. Sometimes I caught myself openly staring while Sabrina fast-talked, hand gestures punctuating every detail of the conversation. The more excited she became, the more animated she was. And the language that came flying out of her mouth was enough to put a sailor to shame. I would listen, amazed, wondering what kind of crass description of everyday life I would be witness to on any particular day.

  When we first met, I was perplexed as to why Sabrina had so few friends. She had great skin, high cheekbones and a body that most models would kill for: about five feet five inches tall with a thin willowy build. Her hair; a rich sienna brown, straight, shiny and long enough to graze the top of her butt, and her long, thick eyelashes accented her big brown eyes. Sabrina was a knockout!

  So why didn’t her social life reflect the way she looked? After a few weeks of the morning bus stop routine, I was pretty sure that I had solved that little puzzle.

  Normally chicks who look that good behave the way they think they’re meant to. They are typically followers that don’t want to break any of the social norms that go with all the petty high school BS... social norms that don’t include describing how Aunt Flo arrived that morning and how you’re pretty sure that you’re going to hemorrhage to death by the end of the day. Was she inappropriate? Completely. Was she funny? Absolutely!

  Sabrina just didn’t seem to have that filter in her brain that said ‘don’t say that out loud’ or the ability to judge who not to say certain things to. She was quirky. She had a nervous energy that she channeled into fidgeting and hand gestures, and she had an abrasive, fuel-injected attitude.

  Most people just didn’t know what to make of her, so they kept their distance.

  She in turn felt unapproachable and assumed that she was either ugly, a freak or maybe a little of both. She honestly couldn’t see her own beauty.

  I thought she was actually pretty hilarious and liked the fact that she wasn’t another pretty automaton mimicking her way through life. However, I always kept my distance because I didn’t think Sabrina wanted anyone to reach out and penetrate that no-nonsense shield.

  Then one day, towards the end of my freshman year, Sabrina was describing to Tina something about walking to the corner store and sweat dripping down her butt crack, when Tina turned and asked me about our math homework.

  “Hey Roshell, did you finish yesterday’s assignment?” Even though Tina and Sabrina were a year older they were in the same remedial math class that I was.

  I bit my bottom lip. “Umm, yeah, but I’m not sure that I did the last four questions correctly.”

  “Do you mind if we copy it? Neither one of us finished it.” Tina watched expectantly while I dug into the black-hole of my backpack and pulled out the wrinkled assignment.

  “Here ya go, but I’m telling you, I just winged it towards the end. I don’t even know why we have to learn algebra anyway. A + B = Pi to the nearest one hundredth times radius up your butt and around the corner.” Sabrina and Tina both cracked up.

  As the bus pulled up to the stop, Sabrina kept laughing and said, “I have no idea what you just said, but I totally agree.”

  Everyone climbed on the bus and the conversation ended there.

  The following few weeks I would smile and say “Hi” to Sabrina. Sometimes I would join their conversation, chatting about pressing current gossip. But that was the extent of it, until the last day of school as we clambered off the bus to head home.

  “Hey,” Sabrina said, “maybe we should hang out sometime this summer, you know, since we live so close.”

  I was a little stunned. “Uh, yeah, sure, sounds good.” I snagged a pen from my backpack and ripped off a chunk of notebook paper. “Here’s my number, just call whenever. I don’t have any big plans or anything so I should be around.” Sabrina jammed the paper down into the bottom of her own bag.

  I forgot about the exchange almost instantly and went about trying to enjoy the summer. Considering I lived in a rural area about ten miles out of town and wasn’t really allowed to go anywhere, I knew the summer would probably drag on endlessly. Situation normal.

  I was an only child, but you wouldn’t think it with all the younger cousins I had. I finished school with a ton of wishful plans for the summer, but my babysitting duties were like a full-time job. One of my aunts landed a job at a nursing home, and was relying on me to watch her two youngsters, Chris and Carla. Fixing them lunch was always a challenge. How creative can you get with Top Ramen noodles? I needed serious inspiration or an act of God. Anyway I was staring into the fridge, you know how if you stare even harder then you might see an ingredient that you swear wasn’t in there a minute ago, when the phone rang. VH1 was blasting out Madonna’s Like a Prayer, so I ran to turn it down and got to the phone just in time. I was still humming to the catchy tune in the background, watching the icon on the television screen bump and grind to the beat.

  There was silence over the line, then a sniffle.

  “So my boyfriend broke up with me and I really need someone to talk to so I don’t go crazy all alone in this house.”

  I could hear sobbing from the person on the other line. “Sabrina?” I asked.

  Hiccup. “Yeah? Look, I know it’s kind of weird to call you like this when I’m all in crisis mode, but my parents are gone all the time and I think…” Sob, sniffle. “I think… I just really need to not be alone right now.”

  “Of course you shouldn’t be alone. Come over right now. Do you want me to meet you halfway?” I was shocked at the event that was unfolding on what would have otherwise been another tedious summer afternoon.

  Sabrina sounded more composed. “No, that’s okay. You’re close. I’ll head over right now.” The click of the phone hanging up echoed in my ear. What in the heck had just happened?

  Not more than five minutes passed before I opened the metal front door of our trailer, and without missing a beat we hugged.

  I invited her in and made my cousins lunch then cleaned up the kitchen while Sabrina talked and cried. She explained how she had been going out with a boy from another school for the past six months and how she recently gave him her virginity on her Seventeenth Birthday.

  “Definitely don’t make that same mistake!” Sabrina stated emphatically. “It’s like sex melts your mind or something and makes you all crazy hormonal. You get to where you think you have to be with them forever, so that when they just up and dump you, you feel like your insides have been turned inside out. I mean, I actually feel a little crazy right now, on top of feeling miserable and pathetic. I don’t
recommend it.”

  I gaped at her. She did look a little crazy with her red tear-streaked face and wild eyes.

  “You know what you need to do?” I made a fist as I spoke. “You need to walk straight up to that yahoo and punch him right in his man junk. It would make you feel a lot better.” We burst into delirious laughter and kept laughing until our sides ached.

  Sabrina spent the night and we stayed up into the late hours. Swapping stories we discovered we were allied on most topics, from school to books to boys to religion. We had birthdays only six days apart. We were both frustrated with our parents who seemed comfortable with their going-nowhere lives. We were both determined to rise above our upbringings and were now very glad to have each other in that otherwise hopeless town.

  By the early hours, the beginnings of a lifelong friendship had been forged.

  Chapter 3

  My dating life consisted of a few fickle fits and starts, nothing serious, no-one I ever took seriously. If I forced myself to really do the introspective thing, I would have said yeah there’s a pattern there. I would chase a new crush until the boy returned interest. Then I would be consumed with puppy love, tittering about on cloud nine for a small period of time. Until suddenly I would flip-flop and quickly find a reason to get bummed out and I break it off. Probably normal for a girl my age, right? I kind of wondered sometimes, though, if there was something wrong with me. Maybe I wouldn’t be able to fall in love. Maybe I just couldn’t handle a relationship with a boy. My friends seemed to find it easy, but not me.

  So okay, my experience with the male species had been fairly limited up to that point. Even those encounters were tainted as I watched men come and go in my mom’s and aunt’s lives. I wouldn’t say I consciously disliked men. I just grew up believing that all men lie, cheat, and then leave. It’s not even their fault. That’s just how they’re wired.

  For example: I never met my biological father. Early in mom’s pregnancy he cheated on her for a younger woman and then hightailed it out of town when he found out mom had a bun in the oven. Typical.

  I slammed my locker shut, determined to make it to my first period class early so I could finish up the previous night’s homework assignment. I’d blown it off again.

  Amber tugged my ponytail. “Guess what? I talked with Kenny about Mystery Guy,” she teased with a sly little grin.

  “Yeah? And?”

  “Okay. So he is new to the school. In fact, today should be his first day.”

  “No way! That is so cool.” I peered down the hall to see if maybe I would catch a glimpse of him. “He is way cute.”

  “You won’t see him in this hall,” she said. “He’s a junior so he will be in the other hall. Anyway he and Kenny were at the same football camp this last summer. That’s how they know each other.” Amber leaned her shoulder against the lockers as she spoke, quite pleased with her in-the-know information.

  I rolled my eyes. “It’s not like he would talk to me anyway. I plan on drooling from a distance.”

  So that was how most of my sophomore year played out. I learned that beautiful Mystery Guys’ name was Gabriel Harrison. He made plenty of friends in the jock clique and seemed to be fairly outgoing. He and Darren Murray became best friends.

  Darren is “that” guy. You know… the one who everyone wants to hang out with because he’s popular, wickedly funny, and tells the best stories. People flocked around to hear the embellished versions of his and Gabe’s previous weekend exploits, everyone wanting a piece of the action.

  I would purposefully walk through the junior/senior hallway more than was necessary in an attempt to sneak a sideways glance in Gabriel’s direction. As brave and unrestrained as I normally was, I was terrified to even think about approaching him, much less attempt a conversation. I thought he was amazing but never really let myself pine for him too much. He probably didn’t even know I existed.

  As winter gave way to blooming flowers and warmer days, spring fever kicked in and everyone began to prepare for the junior/senior prom that was quickly approaching. Underclassmen were only allowed to go if they were invited by an upperclassman, so many of us were waiting anxiously to see if we would be going.

  I was invited by a senior named Tim but hadn’t accepted yet. I only liked him as a friend and was afraid that if I said yes, he would get the wrong impression. He’d been flirting with me for weeks and it was pretty clear that he wasn’t going to give up until he at least got a date.

  After school, Amber intercepted me as I was heading toward the bus.

  “Guess who just got invited to prom?” She clasped her hands together and looked like she could explode. Amber and Kenny had been history for months by that time.

  Part of me was curious, but I was in a pissy mood for no apparent reason. I gave a non-committal grunt and shrugged.

  Amber continued as if I hadn’t just brushed her off. “I was standing by Darren’s locker waiting to get into my fourth period class, when Gabe walked up to him and they started talking about prom. Darren said that he already had a date and started ribbing Gabe for not committing to asking anyone yet. Then Gabe turned around and said, ‘Hey, you want to go to prom with me?’ At first I just stood there with my mouth hanging open, but they both kept looking at me and I realized that he was half serious, so I just blurted out ‘Sure.’ Then Gabe asked for my number and said that he would call me this weekend to make more solid plans.”

  Senseless irritation was gone. I was full-on furious. “What the hell? You know how much I like him. How could you do this?” My heart pounded and my stomach felt as if it had dropped down to my toes.

  Abashed, Amber took a step back. “I know, but I didn’t know what else to do. He took me by surprise. Besides it’s not like we are going steady or anything. It’s just prom. You know I don’t like him that way. Darren is the one that I think is cute, but he already has a date and couldn’t care less about me.” Amber paused. “Look, I won’t go if it’s going to upset you that much.”

  I was still reeling from the emotional face-slap. “Whatever! You go ahead. I have a date to prom anyway. I guess I’ll see ya there.” I turned on my heel to catch the bus before it pulled away, eager to seek an escape, any escape.

  As I mindlessly wandered toward the back of the bus, Sabrina took one look at my pale face and snagged me by the backpack, hauling me down to the seat next to her.

  “Okay, out with it!” She demanded. “Why do you look like you’re about to throw up?”

  I looked at the floor not sure how to put into words what had occurred or what I was feeling. I glanced up at Sabrina then stared back down at my hands, fidgeting with the zipper on my backpack. “Nothing… everything… I don’t know.” I paused then closed my eyes and tipped my head back against the seat. “Ughh! Why did he have to ask her? Out of every girl in school, why Amber?”

  “Oh, no! This doesn’t sound good at all. Spit it out!”

  I blurted it out with an emphatic puff of frustration: “Gabriel asked Amber to go to prom with him and she said yes.” I watched Sabrina, gauging her reaction.

  Her eyes widened. “Shut the door! Whoa, you must be so upset.”

  “I know, right? But I’m not really mad at Amber. It’s not her fault that he doesn’t even know I exist. She was shocked too. Am swears that she doesn’t even like Gabe because she has the hots for Darren. She even said that she wouldn’t go if I didn’t want her to.”

  I gazed out the window at the passing scenery. I loved springtime with the fresh green grass and everything in bloom, the promise of new things to come. But my mood didn’t match the scenery.

  I sighed. “I guess I’ll go with Tim. Then I won’t miss out on the action and Amber won’t worry about me being upset.” I decided, reluctantly, to not just go to the dance, but to make the most of it. I would have a riot no matter what the circumstances were.

  Over the next few weeks all three of us were consumed by preparations for the dance. My quest for the right dress—for both
me and my girlfriends—meant that I forgot to feel sorry for myself, and began to truly look forward to the big night.

  I still couldn’t believe that grandma and mom had actually decided to let me go. Granted I had the earliest curfew of all of my friends, and had strict instructions about riding in cars with boys, and how to handle any sordid scenario that could possibly arise. Still, I was going to an upperclassmen dance and all my best friends would be there. It would be a night to remember.

  Chapter 4

  TIM: Make no mistake. I am fully aware that Roshell agreed to go to prom with me under the agreement that we are just friends. But look at her... she’s amazing. Her sandy blonde hair is pulled up into a clip with those ringlet thingies falling down to the middle of her shoulder blades. I can tell that she put a subtle liner around her greenish-blue eyes that make them pop out of her heart-shaped face. She told me once that she hates her long, straight nose, but I never really noticed. We guys don’t usually pay attention to all of the things that you girls see as imperfections. What we notice are the things that make our hearts race and our blood sing. With Roshell, I would have to say it’s her full mouth with a slightly heavier bottom lip that lends her a natural pout.

  Irresistible.

  So yeah, I’m here at the prom as a “friend” but can you blame a guy for hoping?

  As the car pulled up to the Hilton Hotel I felt little butterflies flutter in my stomach. Tim had picked me up in a four door sedan around six. One other couple, friends of Tim’s, rode along, double-dating. We ate dinner at a smart restaurant, an unusual experience for me. I wasn’t my usual chatty self: instead I silently fretted about which fork to use or whether I might spill food on my beautiful dress. Grandma nearly broke the bank to buy it for me. It was in perfect unison with the style that defined all prom dresses made in the early nineties and I loved it. Big puffy shoulders, cinched waist, satiny layered skirts, and of course, vivid colors, in my case plum purple. For once I thought that I looked almost pretty.