Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Writergirldreams Please Report to the Principal's Office

I don't know where that title came from, it just made me laugh.  Years of school and I never got the call.  Never got in trouble.  Ok, maybe a few times, not at school, involving judgment.

Like the time my girlfriend and I did the old "staying at her house tonight" and didn't go to either house.  Somehow our fourteen year old brains thought it would be cool to just walk the streets all night.  I know, sounds goofy, doesn't it?  In today's world, probably dangerous.  It was a different world back then.

Where was I, chemo brain?

We decided to roam the streets like gypsies all night.  About two a.m. we were cold and tired.  We couldn't go home.  How would we explain the late hour and why weren't we at the others house?  Just as we walked into the light of a streetlamp, a pimped up van drove by, very slowly.

It was him.

The guy behind the wheel was one of the hottest, hippest Seniors in the whole school.  This was the seventies folks, he had long blond hair parted down the middle and was fine and buff.  Played football, raced moto-cross, smoked pot.  No steady girlfriend, a play-ya.  A teenage girl's dream in the seventies.  Well, except for the girlfriend part.

How cool it would be to wrap his class ring in angora and wear that fuzzy proclamation of his   devotion?  Sounds like Grease huh?

I had never really spoken to him before, maybe a little.  His little brother was in our class.  Also a hottie.  We were Jr. Varsity cheerleaders.  His brother played football.  He was the star of the Varsity team.

The van stopped just ahead of us, we continued walking.  He was waiting for us.  I was scared.  Not like I thought he would hurt us.  Just thinking about talking to him.  We sheepishly waved from the sidewalk as we passed.

"Ladies." he nodded.  "Need a ride?"

We looked at each other, our hearts racing.  THIS IS THE EXCITEMENT WE WERE LOOKING FOR.  It was enough just to talk to him.

Need a ride?  Where?  We weren't going anywhere.  We approached the van.

"Well, we, see we had this idea..." and interrupting each other, told him our story.  He laughed.

"Get in" he said.

We weren't expecting that one.  We both gave each other a "what da hell" look and climbed in.

He drove us to his house, got out and left us alone in the van for several minutes.  We weren't sure what to do, we were chattering like chipmunks, scared, thrilled, should we run away, should we stay?

He came back and opened the rear doors of the van, arms loaded with blankets.  He made a makeshift bed on the floor of the van.  I was nervous, and I admit, a little excited.  What had we gotten ourselves into with THE FINEST BOY in the school?  A Senior!  He got the bed all comfy then smiled at us.  

Here it comes, here it comes, his lustful intentions for us and

"Anybody need to pee?"

We both raised our hands, like kindergartners.

"Come on then, and keep it quiet."

We followed like puppies into the house through the back kitchen door.  I could hear a TV going in the living room, and familiar voices laughing.  His younger brother, our classmate, was having a sleepover, with several boys we knew.  We used the restroom, then quietly slipped back out to the van.

He was waiting there for us.

"I"ll leave the back door open in case you need to go again.  Get some sleep."  He smiled and walked back to the house.

We jumped in the van and closed the door, and had to stifle screams and squeals.  We slept in our bra's and panties in a bed HE made for us in the back of HIS van.

It was the night of our lives.

The next morning he drove us each home, making sure to drop us off up the street so no parents would see.  My girlfriend was dropped off first.  He drove to my street and pulled over.

"Thank you" I said.

He nodded and smiled a sweet smile at me like "I know.  It's ok kid."

I had a rough day today, seeing things as they are and not how I wished them to be.  I let myself cry here and there, and wallow in my bed.

I thought about my life.

I don't know why I thought about him tonight.  I did not expect to write about him, it just came to me when I put my hands on the keyboard.

Sometimes help arrives unexpectedly and from an unexpected source.

I'm not sorry about the grieving and processing I needed to do today, and a whole lot more is on its way.

Tonight though I know, good is on the way.

Good is on the way.

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