Reality For Real March 26, 2009

Last night i was watching the Bachelor episode i had TiVo-ed. That’s when Matt came over. He said his girlfriend had just dumped him. He said his girlfriend had felt unloved. He said he hadn’t seen it coming. I had. Everyone had. That is, everyone who saw her with Austin. But i didn’t tell Matt that. I couldn’t really talk. I mean, his now-ex girlfriend is my roommate. Not that I like her. I don’t. She was totally wrong for him. He was totally above her. Of course, I have to say that. Because he’s my best guy-friend. Actually, he’s my only guy-friend. Seems most guys won’t just be friends with you if your boyfriend is the quarterback. I thought that stuff ended with high school. It doesn’t.

But back to the guy-friend thing. Matt was my best friend from sophomore year in high school to sophomore year now. I think my boyfriend once threatened him. But Matt just laughed. That’s how he always is. But it’s kinda stupid to laugh at a quarterback. So I had to tell my boyfriend Matt was gay. And since he doesn’t really hang out with Matt’s crowd, he bought it. Funny how easy it was. I actually see Matt way more than said boyfriend. And, come to think of it, said boyfriend has plenty of girl friends. He always did have a double standard.

So, the reality show night. I was totally just watching the T.V. And Matt was sitting there, ragging on the ex when he suddenly shut up. I glanced over at the sudden silence and he was just staring off, mouth half-opened. I asked what his deal was and then he just looked at me and laughed. He always laughs, remember?

“I didn’t even love her.” He said, as if it was the epiphany of the year. But I’d so known that. It was a duh moment for me. I mean, him and her was like me and BF. It just…happened. And it didn’t matter. That’s when I put The Bachelor on mute. And I stared at him.

“I don’t love him.” I said. He smiled slyly. “Duh.” he said. Then I laughed.

“I just wasted a year.”

“And I wasted five.” he interjected, still sly.

“What?” I argued, “you were only with her for a few months!”

He just shrugged, leaning forward, obviously eager to get to a point. “Why were we such idiots, do you think?”

I shrugged, turning the volume back up. Conversations about my boyfriend always bored me. But, i guess, by that time he wasn’t really my boyfriend. Because of my not loving and not caring and all. Still, like I wanted to analyze my own stupidity when the Bachelor was handing out his final rose. Matt understood. Sort of. He leaned back on the couch, slouching to level himself with me. He always was tall. Massive torso. But he never ever slouched. So of course I glanced at him, wondering what he was up to. But he seemed pretty intent on The Bachelor as well. It was only after the commercial break that I realized he’d inched closer. Weird. I mean, he isn’t exactly the touchy type. Which, to me was one of the deciding factors in his recent break-up since the ex was very, very touchy. So I asked if he was cold. He laughed. But then the Bachelor was up and the first girl was getting out of the limo and I was so invested in the decision that my eyes were glued to the T.V and nothing else.

The girl was my favorite. Probably because she was a lot like me. Petite. Blonde. A little cynical but still sweet. Attitude with a little bit of shyness. I’d been rooting for her since the first night when she called the bachelor out on a stupid thing he’d said. And now I was watching the finale. They were perfect for each other. Like The Notebook couple. Totally get in each other’s faces but so perfectly romantic and complete opposite. And what does he do??? He lets her go! For some green-eyed brunette who laughs like a cow. And, no, cows DO NOT laugh. I got so angry! I leapt from the couch and screamed, kneeling up by the T.V. and cursing the day the Bachelor ever got accepted to be on national television.

Matt laughed at me. Which is NOT smart to do when I’m emotionally involved in a T.V. show. i turned on him. But he just knelt next to me, allowing me to be angry for a while before he interrupted.

“Didn’t you once say I was like him?”

Yes, I had. The second week it was on. They were almost clones. Except his eyes weren’t as blue as Matt’s. But that did not seem the best time to bring up a likeness. Especially since I wanted to destroy the one on T.V. Maybe i’d settle with the twin. But Matt didn’t seem scared. He just laughed again. “And aren’t you like her?”

“YES! And he just let her go! They were perfect and he was her SOULMATE and he just made her WALK AWAY!!! It was like the best couple in the universe and–BAM–now, it’s nothing. They were perfect and….”

I stopped. Because I realized–everything. The way he looked at me when he said he hadn’t loved the ex. The way he looked when I said I didn’t love my BF. The way he said Five Years–the time we’d known each other. The way he inched closer. The way he smiled. The way he was crawling closer to me. The way I was in his arms now. The way he pushed my hair out of my eyes. The way his thumb slid across my stressed brow, softening my scowl. And now I couldn’t breathe. The Bachelor was proposing behind me to the wrong girl . But I didn’t care. My eyes were locked on Matt’s. Which were laughing. Yes, eyes DO laugh. At least his do.

“Why was he such an idiot, do you think?” His voice was a whisper, surprising.

“Maybe he just didn’t realize what was right in front of him. And they just let it go because they couldn’t see….”

My last words melted away, hazy and unimportant. He was inching closer, his hand around my neck, warm, sure. He kissed me. I kissed him. Time stopped. Everything stopped. Except him and me. That was enough. I didn’t even care what happened on The Bachelor. Because it was happening to me–my own reality. Crazy how things work out, isn’t it?

The Break-up Conversation March 25, 2009

“Can you tell me what it’s like?”

“What?”

“Being the biggest JERK in the friggin’ world?!”

“Um…. What are you talking about?”

“YOU! Don’t play stupid. I saw you with her! No, correction: I saw you ON her. All over her. So you have about five seconds to answer the friggin’ question!”

“What question? What are you smoking? What is going on? Am I being punk’d? What are you talking about?”

“Save the crap. Just tell me what it’s like being such a jacka–”

“I have NOT cheated on you. But, really, it’s starting to sound like a good idea. You are CRAZY!”

“Oh, so now it’s my fault you’re a philandering molester-of-women?? You’re such a son of a–”

“Okay, this has gotta be a joke. You are such a paranoid chick! I have never cheated on you. Never. So what do you want me to say to finish this conversation?”

“TELL ME THE TRUTH!”

“I have! I told you, I haven’t cheated on you! I mean, come ON! This is ridiculous. I don’t know where you’d even think I’d have time to do another girl: you are always on. my. BACK!”

“Don’t turn this on me. I’m not the one taking a stroll in another girl’s pants!”

“News flash: neither am I! I didn’t even see this coming! You are so insecure, It’s like you WANT an excuse to break up with me.”

“Who said anything about breaking up?”

“Ha! Okay, that’s it. You’ve lost it. Totally INSANE! I stuck around you for way too long, you clingy, little control freak!”

“Where are you going?”

“You tell me! Maybe I’m gonna take a stroll in your sister’s pants!”

“I knew it! You ARE cheating on me!!”

Twilight, condensed* … condensed again March 18, 2009

*As requested, it’s about a page and a half shorter. I wasn’t sure what was wanted, so sorry if this isn’t exactly it.*

It all started when I, like, moved up to Forks and my dad got me a piece-of-crap truck. Which I loved. Cuz I have this thing for really, really old, potentially dangerous things. Duh. At school, there was this super attractive family that nobody talked to cuz they are “weird”. Edward was the youngest and his eyeballs were so mesmerizing. I just stared and stared. But he thought I smelt which totally sucked cuz I so wanted him. So I did what any normal girl would do: I started stalking him. And I found out he was a really, really old, potentially dangerous vampire who happened to be stalking me as well. He told me I should never ever love him. Something about him wanting to eat me. Whatever. That’s way hot. So what did I do? I fell head over heels for him. And he totally HEARTS me too.

He showed me how he sparkles. It was so sexy. Too bad he’s like a slab of ice. I still can’t resist making out with him. I just want more and more, cuz he has perfect lips, of course. But he’s all, “No, I’ll eat you, Bella.” Which just makes me want more. I mean, right? I just try again and again and we’re always arguing as we kiss cuz he’s hungry and he can’t take any more and I’m hungry and all I want is HIM. It’s way precious.

Everything else was so perfect and wonderful. But then this other vampire clan came and they just weren’t nice. Ruined everything. Edward, who is so overprotective and smothering it’s cute, freaks and makes me hit the road. I end up at my mom’s cuz the evil vampire is stalking me. Kinda like Edward did. Except this guy wants to rip my heart out. I would be turned on, but I’m so smitten by Mr. Perfect-marble-god Edward that I can’t think about any other guys.

Well, I end up falling into the evil vampire’s trap cuz I’m so selfless I give myself up to save cool people I love so very much. So I go and practically serve myself up with gravy and potatoes. The evil vampire is so about to kill me when Edward comes from nowhere—he’s magic, you know—and they get into this enormous Vamp fight. It was so exciting: they were fighting over me! But I got bit, it seems. And it hurt. I was writhing on the floor and was all in and out of consciousness. Mostly I was worried about how I looked cuz I’m so scared Edward thinks I’m just an ugly human and me weeping on the floor, bleeding and foaming at the mouth wasn’t helping the matter. But I know, somehow, Edward saved me and ripped the evil vampire to shreds and burned those shreds in a great bonfire. That’s how it’s done.

Back at Forks, everything returned to normal. Except Edward made me go to prom with him which was totally lame but I couldn’t argue cuz I love him. Besides, whenever I look at his glittery perfection, I just melt. So he’s in charge. He loves me, so he knows what’s best for me. Always. And you’re jealous. I know it. Cuz he’s hot. Just get that into your head. He’s totally hot and he’s all mine. I mean, I’m all his. Which is perfect. Too bad that evil vampire’s girlfriend is going to kill me. I could have been so happy.

Twilight, condensed* March 17, 2009

* No copyright infringement is intended*

So, like, I was gonna die but I totally didn’t care cuz—guess what?—I had a hot boyfriend, so I’d die happy. Totally. But, rewind. Let me tell you ALL about my life with said boyfriend.

It all started when I, like, moved up to the little town called Forks—I know, right?—and my dad got me a truck which was a total piece of junk but, hey, it’s the thought that counts. Besides, I love really, really old, potentially dangerous things. Which is why I was so attracted to my boyfriend. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

In Forks, there was either something in the water or every high school student was smoking pot cuz they all thought I was hot. Weird. But there was this super attractive family that nobody talked to cuz they were “weird”. Edward was the youngest and his eyeballs were so mesmerizing, I just stared and stared. But he thought I smelt which totally sucked cuz I sooo wanted him. In fact, I pretty much started stalking him. And I found out he was a really, really old, potentially dangerous vampire who happened to be stalking me as well. He saved me from my own stupidity—sometimes I just don’t think—and then I found out he wanted to eat me which is such a turn on for me. Plus, he could read minds. Super cool! Except he couldn’t read mine cuz I’m magic. He once brought me home to meet his family. Jasper was super chill, like some crazy beach bum hippie who was always like “Bella, relaaaax.” Alice, she totally loves me and is like super in tune with the world cuz she, like, really sees the future. Then there’s Rosalie who just wishes she was hot like me and totally has prima donna issues. But she’s so beautiful, I still worship her. Her boyfriend, Emmet, is a hunk who’s totally funny. Like, so. Then his parents, Esme and Carlisle, are just totally Stepford. They were so much cooler than my family. Speaking of which, my dad totally did not trust Edward cuz I did a lousy job at communicating how we were soul mates and I trusted him with my life and that I’d be a vampire one day too so that Edward and I could be totally happy for all eternity. (Secret reason for wanting to be a vampire? I’d be perfectly hot, so Edward would really want me as bad as I wanted him. Being a vampire ROCKS.) But Dads just don’t understand.

One day, Edward took me away and showed me how he sparkled in the sunlight. Like a crystal. It was so sexy. He’s just so cold, but I can’t resist making out with him. I just want more and more, cuz he has perfect lips, of course. But he’s all, “No, I’ll eat you, Bella. I can’t resist.” Which just makes me want more. I mean, how sexy is that? So I try and seduce him, but, cuz I’m so awkward, I’m really super bad at it. But he doesn’t think so. He groans and I make out with him and then he chides me like I was some kid who needed reprimanding. But I’m so needy I just try again and again and we’re just always arguing as we kiss cuz he’s hungry and he can’t take any more and I’m hungry and ll I want is HIM. It’s way precious.

That was a huge portion of the year—my making out with him and him saying no. But then this other vampire clan came and they just weren’t nice. It was so rude. They really were gonna eat me—I just smell so good, you know. I can’t help it. So Edward, who is so overprotective and smothering it’s cute, freaks and makes me scream at my dad to get away. I end up at my mom’s cuz the bad vampire is stalking me. Kinda like Edward did. Except this guy wants to rip my heart out with his teeth. I would be turned on, but I’m so smitten by Mr. Perfect-marble-god Edward that I can’t think about any other guys. It’s them who don’t catch the hint. They all come on so strong. I guess I just smell too good to resist.

What happens next is me falling for the evil vampire’s trickery cuz I’m so selfless I’d give myself up to save those cool people I love so very much. So I go to the ballet studio and practically serve myself up with gravy and potatoes. Which is where we are now. Dying, remember?

The evil vampire cackles and is about to suck my blood when Edward comes from nowhere—he’s magic, you know—and they get into this enormous fight. It was so exciting: they were fighting over me! Who would have thought I was so popular? I mean, really, it is so romantic what they would do for me. But I got bit, it seems. And it hurt. I was writhing on the floor and I was all in and out of conscience. Mostly I was worried about how I looked cuz I’m so scared Edward thinks I’m ugly already and me weeping on the floor, bleeding and foaming at the mouth wasn’t helping the matter. But I know, somehow, Edward won and saved me and the rest of the cool family came and ripped the evil vampire to shreds and burn those shreds of evil vampire. It just so happens to be the only way to kill a vampire. Since they’re so perfect.

I woke up in the hospital and everyone believed some nonsense about me crashing down the stairs, through a window and onto a poisonous mine field and surviving. I was gonna get mad at Edward for making me look like such an idiot, when, really, I’d just been so selfless. But I saw him in all his glittery perfection and I just melted. I ended up back in Forks and Edward made me go to prom with him which was totally lame but I couldn’t argue cuz I love him. So he’s in charge. He loves me so he knows what’s best for me. Always. So I’m really happy. And you’re jealous. I know it. Cuz he’s hot. Just get that into your head. He’s totally hot and he’s all mine. I mean, I’m all his. Which is perfect. Too bad that evil vampire’s girlfriend is going to kill me. I could have been so happy.

Good Morning, Sunshine – prt. 15 May 15, 2008

By Monday I was smiling again; life seemed a bit brighter. Cadence seemed relieved my random-emotional-over-kill moments were over. So was I. And school seemed good and nearly normal. I was used to it—most of it—now. Except the food. I don’t think anyone could ever get used to that.

I actually backed off Jason a bit. Not in a bad way, though. We were still together. In fact, we were number one on the Best Valentine’s Ever list. Someone had posted a picture of me sobbing as he had handed me the roses. That sort of made me cringe, because I remembered why I had been crying. But it was still sweet. And Jason looked good. We both seemed better. He had given me a ride and not mentioned anything about what we had talked about. Surprisingly, that just added pressure to my obligation to talk to Todd. Which turned out to be an awful experience—no surprise. But I’m getting ahead of myself. And that was probably the understatement of the year.

I was walking to my next class alone and I saw him—alone. He caught my eye and with a bug-eyed sigh, spun around and started walking the other way. That made me agitated and I ran to his side, determined to get it over with.

“Todd,” I said, coming to a slow stop, “We have to talk.”

He scowled at me, looking ready to bite. “About what, Brooke? Your point was clear—and I’ll have you know my jaw was bruised because of it.”

I rolled my eyes. “That’s exactly it—why don’t you just grow up?”

He barked a short laugh. “Yeah, look who’s talking? You are such a friggin’ hypocrite, you know that?”

I stared at him, my jaw dropping. “Excuse me? All I said was that we need to talk; not get in some screaming fight.”

“Well, see if I care about your shallow antics! You think cuz you come and say ‘we have to talk’ that makes you the mature one?”

“Mature—you think you are mature? Like, serious?”

“’Like, serious?’” He mimicked, staring icily at me, “You know what Brooke, how ‘bout you go stick your tongue down my brothers throat and get out of my life?”

I stared, an angry laugh slipping into my words, “Now that is real maturity.”

“Do you really think I care? You think you’ve changed; that because you had your perfect life ripped away from you, you are a new person. You’re not. You are the same snotty bimbo who—”

“How can you even stand there and act as if you know me! You don’t—never will. Todd—just leave me alone and GROW UP.” I spun around, giving up and desperate to get to class; to get away. But he made me turn around.

“There you go again; pretending you’re queen of the world! You’re just this Manhattan prep who’s going for Jason because of his money, his style; even his so-called ‘drive’! You are nothing more than a teenage gold digger.”

That was too much. I shoved him back a step, silencing him immediately. “Don’t you dare accuse me! I am no gold digger.”

“Oh yeah?” he screamed, coming back a step closer, “Then what’s his middle name? How about his favorite color? Do you even know what things he likes to do—I mean, except making out with you.”

“You jealous?” I bit, getting in his face, “Todd, I know Jason. So why don’t you save face and shut up.”

He laughed, still screaming, “If what you know of Jason is considered knowing people, no wonder you have such a shallow existence! I bet you couldn’t list five things about him; what he likes or wants. Yeah—you know he’s going to college, you know he’s hot. But you don’t know him.”

Suddenly I was no longer bold. A growing crowd was surrounding us and I just realized it. My cheeks flushed; I was red and steaming. “That’s not true.” I whispered, willing it all to go away. But Todd wasn’t done.

“No, but its okay; he’s doesn’t know you either.” His words were quieter too, but they still cut at me. And I started to cry; silent, hot tears that made my skin flush more. The silence from the crowd was almost deafening. But not as much as Todd’s quiet accusations.

“You two…you don’t care. You just take. He can’t even say he knows you; listens to you—sees you. You guys just use each other. And I guess that works for you, but, just know, there’s nothing there. And one day that’s gonna hurt.”

“Who do you even think you are?” The words were slow and deep. I was angry. “You think you know me better—Jason told me about you; how you don’t even have your own life! And now you’re telling me that you know more about mine than he does; than I do?”

His eyes fell to the floor. I was fuming, my breaths short and tight. I hoped it was over, that I could turn and run; but he spoke. And it hurt.

“Well, I know he can’t see how beautiful you are. No, he see’s the colors and shapes. But he doesn’t know how, when you’re bored, you start to play with the tips of your hair. He doesn’t see that there’s a face you make for every kind of emotion. Your eyebrows sink just to the left when you’re thinking. And, when you smile, your nose sort of crinkles. There’s a dimple on your right cheek that only shows up when you bite your lip. And I know how you like it when your hair falls across your eyes—it means you can finally breathe; you don’t have to put on a face for everyone.” Every word made me blush. It was making me sick. He didn’t even seem to notice. I don’t think he knew there was a crowd around us. His eyes were on me and me alone.

“I know that you want to be held close—even in a dance. You—you look great in teal; it’s your favorite color. I know you’d rather have PB and J’s than caviar or…quail. You want to be more than a rich snob; you want to get out of this stereotype of fashion and…snootiness! You want to go to prom! You wanna climb a tree—wear jeans that cost less than a three digit number. There’s something in your eyes that tells—everyone—that you want to be you; not the rich girl from Manhattan.”

Now I was tired and officially pissed off. “You are a jerk. A total, bitter jerk who thinks he knows everything. But you don’t. And you just proved it.” My voice started to rise; my stance straightened and I was ready to punch something. Preferably him. “How can you think that, for one second, I would ever want to be with someone who thinks he knows me better than I do? I would never want you; you’re just a little boy making guess work about me. You don’t know me. You, Todd, are an absolute as—”

“What’s going on here?”

It was the principal. He pushed himself through the crowd and into the circle where Todd and I stood. People started to talk and the choking silence around us finally stopped. I could breathe. But then Jason pushed his way through, right next to the principal. His eyes were wide and not at all humored.

“Yeah—what is this, Todd?” His voice was almost malicious. And Todd suddenly looked sheepish.

“I—we…were just…talking.” He stuttered, not daring to look anywhere in particular. I snorted, hot tears still falling down my face. Jason wrapped his arms around me and the principal stared sternly about.

“Todd, you just need to grow up.” Jason said, his voice bringing the silence back.

Todd laughed; it was almost a cruel laugh. “Yeah—I’ve heard that a lot today—”

“That’s because you do. I can’t believe…just…go to hell.”

The principal raised his hands to calm the crowd. Even Todd seemed close to tears. But then it turned ugly. His eyes got venomous and he nearly spat at us.

“Oh, just take your whore and have a happy life.”
Those words by themselves would have been shocking enough, but what happened next blew it overboard.

Jason’s arm was suddenly no longer around my shoulders. In a split second, his fist was thrown forcefully into Todd’s face and he was knocked to the ground. Then the principal was grabbing Jason and holding him back, shoving him into the wall of people that now started freaking out. Todd tried to stand, his hand covering his mouth where blood sputtered out.

Chaos ricocheted through the crowd—people were talking, some were laughing, the principal was yelling at everyone and more teachers showed up; half of them wondering where their students were and the other were curious as to what the noise was. One of the teachers helped Todd up, pulling him to the nurses. Jason was carted off by the principal and the crowd was told to get to class. I just stood, more surprised than anyone. I couldn’t move.

Eventually someone told me to get to class—I don’t remember who. But I wasn’t there for long. Soon I got a note calling me to the principal’s. I was surprised to see a cop; they asked me to tell them what had happened. I didn’t really want to. I avoided the topic of conversation and just explained that we had gotten in a fight. They told me I had to go home; that I was suspended for the rest of the day. Some bull crap about how I had impeded on the education and peace of the school. I was forced to call Cadence; some sort of try at an emotional punishment. But I didn’t really care. Home sounded good to me. So Cadence came—I did feel bad though; she had to leave work—and I left. I didn’t know where Jason was or what his punishment was. But I didn’t really care. I still just wanted to disappear. Cadence wouldn’t let me. She asked what had happened and I knew I had to tell her. It took me so long, we were sitting in the garage for a while. And afterwards she just looked at me and then she whistled. Made a joke about how my life was a soap opera. I didn’t find it funny. She got that and let me get out and go inside. But first she told me I would have to make dinner; that she had to work late because of me. I didn’t really mind. I just went inside and lied down, desperate to forget it all.

Good Morning, Sunshine – prt. 2 April 1, 2008

“Listen–as soon as you turn eighteen I’ll be there; not a second late. I promise.”

“You’re always late, Mel.”

She smiled sadly, looking at me as we drove to the airport. I just stared off into the heart of manhattan, ready to die right there. I didn’t want to leave. Six months. In Florida.

“Yeah, well, not this time. Besides, it’s not always my fault.”

As if to illustrate her point, she started yelling at the driver about the fact I was going to miss my plane if he didn’t hurry things up. That sounded like an okay thing to me but I didn’t say anything; just held my starbucks Mocha Frappuccino Blended Coffee and wished I was heading anywhere else. But I wasn’t. Cadence had called every day the last week to make sure I was all set and everything was going as planned; as if I had a choice. She bought the tickets for me; said they were waiting at the airport under my name. I told her I could totally take care of myself; i could even get my jet to come down. She thought that was funny at first. When she realized i was dead serious, she just said no–she wanted to get me here. So there I was, traveling through New York City traffic towards an airport where I actually had to wait in line. All so i could go live with my “mom” down in “Sunshine” Florida. I’m sure the sun was no different there than here, but Cadence made a huge deal about it. I couldn’t really argue; florida was like the only place I’d never been. I had never been to Disney world. Well, I went to Euro Disney last year for my french tour; it wasn’t all that exciting. I much preferred the Paris Fashion Week; I bought a Dior gown and coat. I was wearing the coat that day–I remember. It was a gorgeous trench. But I never had worn the gown. And I highly doubt I’d find a place to wear it in Florida; but I packed it anything. I didn’t leave anything behind. Every perfume bottle, shoe, blouse, pair of jeans, slacks, stockings and piece of jemwelry was coming with me. i made sure of it.

The apartment had been cleared out like no one had ever lived there before. Melanie had found some sort of storage space for it–the safest, most guarded one available. She wouldn’t let me take the paintings and sculptures dad had goteen me through the years; said they’d be here when I came back. but not in my home. It surprised me how fast the memories were packed. They didn’t even haunt the empty halls. I guess it was because most of my memories with dad were made elsewhere. We never really were home. But home was still home–and now I was leaving it all behind. Every high rise, every street corner. they were all staying and I was going.

I remember the day before I had burst into tears as I zipped my final case shut. There was at least five of them. Melanie had them shipped down that night so I wouldn’t have to worry about them all at the airport. I just hoped they’d be there in time. Cadence had this odd idea that I wanted to be going down there; as if I had planned this trip all on my own. every phone call was filled with high-pitched reassurance that it would be the greatest thing–we’d have so much fun. She said even at school I’d have fun. Seemed I did have to finish school and my Ivy-League-inspired private school didn’t have a second in Florida. Shocker. So I’d go to school with Cadence’s other daughter. Yeah. She had another; I had to bite my tongue to keep from asking if it was the masseuses’. She was sixteen and her name was Annie. I didn’t know anyone named Annie. It sounded so…broadway.

When I got to the airport, Melanie had to get to another meeting. So, after a quick kiss on the cheek and a hurried hug, she shoved my Burberry bag in my hands and whispered “good luck” and “text me if you absolutely die”. And then I was alone. And I had to go with the sea of people to the customer service desk. That was a new experience. When I finally got up there, I asked for my tickets only to discover they were coach. I didn’t do coach. I told the lady that and she just looked at me, then moved on to the next customer. I asked for an upgrade but she said there were no available seats. I told her that was bull and she told me she’d call security. So I left.

I got on that plane and shoved myself between some wannabe gangster and dying grandma The kid just kept eyeing me and my tightly-clad legs. I finally asked if he had a problem. He said no, he liked the spicy girls. I just rolled my eyes, put on my designer shades–I think they were my Gucci–and pretended he wasn’t there. It was a long flight. I wish it was longer. Too soon I was off and heading towards my florida exile. I had to switch at the Miami terminal to head to some middle-of-no-where town where the closest airport was thirty miles from my new “home”. That was a distance that made the difference between a prison and a claustrophobic psycho’s ward. It seemed I was heading for the latter. There were only five other people on the plane with me. The flight attendants were in tight blue polyester and looked like they doubled as a Hooters bar waitress. And they played some unheard of hip-hop music (it should remain that way). But it wasn’t till we landed and I squeezed out of that coach-only airplane that I realized exactly how awful it was going to be. The air was warm. And it was wet; I could feel it press against my body. But I could stand that; that was bearable. It was seeing my new “family” that made me want to run. They held a sign, as if they’d mistake me with the rotting men getting off with me. It was an older woman who looked like she’d been frightened of growing old her whole life but had finally given in. Her face echoed of old plastic surgery. The girl next to her was cute enough. Sort of a Wendy’s “it” girl, if there is such a thing. She had red hair and freckles. To give her some credit though, it wasn’t pulled into pigtails. It was held back with a forest green that matched her pants. Well, gauchos–nice, spandexy gaucho’s. As soon as they saw me, they dropped the sign and just stared. I finally walked down to them and pulled off my sunglasses. It suddenly seemed rather hot.

Finally the older woman looked at me, “Brooke?”

I looked around, pulling my burberry back up my arm, and pretended to double check. “Looks like it.”

They thought that was funny. Then she pulled me in my arms and hugged me–really hugged me. I never really got hugs; dad even knew I wasn’t a hug person. She was whispering a whole bunch of stuff in my ear till I finally pushed her away. Then the other girl was in front of me.

“I’m Annie and you are absolutely gorgeous! I never guessed you’d be so pretty–not that I had reason not to. but….Oh, I love your jacket.”

I looked at her, trying to decide if I should stare at the hair or the bright green eyes or the pants. I decided to just put my glasses back on. “Thanks.” I said, “It’s a coat.”

cadence then asked if I had anything else; I said my baggage had been sent down. She laughed and said that’s good to know cuz she wasn’t sure if all that had been mine or if the whole plane had accidentally rerouted their luggage carrier. I didn’t find it that funny.

But I finally got in the car–which cadence actually drove–and Annie felt like she had to sit in the back with me.

“Cool bag. I have one like it. I got it at target for, like twenty bucks. is that real? Mom said NY has all these great street deals for copy’s.”

I could feel my face melt into a despising glare, but I didn’t care. Accusing me of street-corner copies was about as low as you can get. i quickly pointed out the label. She said she’d never heard of it–was it some store? i didn’t bother explaining further, just held it closer.

Other than that it was a silent ride, Annie seemed to catch on real quick that I didn’t rally care for her chatter. And Cadence was too busy watching the endless, deserted road to make conversation. I was fine with that. And I just kept praying that I’d be living in some sort of oasis in this strange, strange part of the world. When we turned down an average suburbia road, I knew I was far from having that prayer answered. there was grass all around. All the houses looked the same and each had their own mailbox. Toys were strewn across the lawn and cheesy christmas decorations still plagued the lawns. We pulled up to own of the more average ones–at least it didn’t have any toys–and I watched as the garage door went up.

I was scared to get out; I kept thinking maybe I was lost. But as Annie opened the door and told me to slide on out–the other door was broken–I knew it was too real. And Cadence pushing the door open and watching nervously as I walked in made it all more real. Annie kind of stumbled in after me, pushing her shoes under a bench and quickly telling me I didn’t have to. Good. Because there was no way I was taking off my wedges to put my feet on that floor.

“Uh,” cadence said, watching as I looked around, “We’re kind of…humble. Not so worried about a clean house as we are about family, right?” She tried to laugh and I slowly pulled my glasses off and pushed them in my bag. The living room was connected to the kitchen and there was no dining room. The TV sat on the floor and was still on. The couch looked like it had seen better days and the windows had plastic blinds on them. A loud air conditioner blew behind me and Annie waited by the stairs, hardly registering my discomfort.

“Your room is by mine; you’re lucky dad and Travis moved out last year, otherwise we’d have to get rid of some of your clothes.”

“What?” I asked a bit loudly.

She just laughed and said it was a joke. Some joke. Then she said she’d show me. So I followed her and I could hear Cadence sigh deeply behind me as I creaked up those stairs. When she opened my new room’s door, I almost ran out screaming. I swear it was smaller than my bathroom had been. It’s walls were a horrid fuschia and the awful paisley bedspread matching with an addition of orange and white would even make martha Stewart gag. The only thin that kept me going in were my five suitcases stacked against a wall. Those clothes needed out. Though I was loathe to place them where I was. A small window took precedence on the farthest wall and a pathetic closet filled the other one. It was about two feet deep. I could hear children laughing outside which was foreign to my ears. I was used to honking, sirens and whistles.

Annie just smiled at me, standing awkwardly in the door. I looked at her.

“Well,” she said, slightly picking up on my angry stare, “I’ll leave you to get settled. Mom said I shouldn’t bother you too much–we do after all have school together in two days. We’re still on Winter break!”

The suffocating heat made it impossible for my brain to register that statement. I just collapsed onto the stiff bed with a whine as soon as my door shut. I dropped my bag to the floor, suddenly not caring about the probable dust mites. I just let my hair fall out of its tight ponytail and stared at the ceiling.

“Well, we’re not in kansas. Though we’re probably close.” I whispered to no one. This was going to be a long six months. Very long.

For, like, Ever March 18, 2008

I had, like, a million. I think everyone did–those BFF bracelets. You’d get them for valentines and your birthday and you’d swear to wear it as long as the fellow friend did–which was supposedly forever. It was the epitamy of friend status. Once you got one, that meant you were as much a friend as you’d ever be. So when you got one from that guy you met the day before, you knew it was pretty much a turn-off. And when that girl who threw that pie in your face gave you one as an apology–studded in rhinestones and all–you know it was just a meaningless act by an i’m-so-worried-my-daddy-will-take-away-my-allowance-if-i-don’t brat. Those were where i got my millions; the million meaningless ones that filled my bedrooms crevices. I only had one that really mattered. It was from Ashley. She’d given it to me at the beginning of junior high.

“Sarah,” she had said, looking with dark, serious eyes, “Promise we’ll get through it–all of it– completely intact.”

I swore it. Then we laughed as we draped them ceremoniously across each other. It had seemed easy back then; life couldn’t get at us. Those BFF bracelet’s promised that. They were beautiful when we got them; all shiny and hopeful. Now the pink ribbon was frayed and dull-looking. But i still wore it. The half-heart hung on a silver chain and every day i put it on–even if the pink didn’t match. She wore hers too. We really were BFF’s. And we weren’t afraid to show it.

We got those looks from the ‘cool kids’. The ones who sit emotionless during lunch, leaning deep into the benches. They would stare at us when we laughed really hard or talked too much. But it didn’t matter. We were each other’s rock–i wouldn’t have survived Junoir high without her. She made high school bearable. It had always been Ashley and me. And i thought it always would be that way. I guess i was wrong. I guess nothing lasts forever. Not even those BFF bracelets.

Dreamin’ Away February 21, 2008

Aren’t dreams crazy? Not the aspirations ones, the night-time ones. I mean, think about it. Your brain just sits there, making up all these random plots to entertain you at night! I remember once, a night before a test, i dreamed i was stuck in a locker dressed as a clown just trying to get to my classroom. Where does the mind come up with theses things? Is it bored, sitting there at night? So it just decided to take random memories, hopes, fears, thoughts and mix it all into some frightening tequila to dunk on me? Whatever way it works, it’s crazy. Sometimes frightening. Yet, those psycho dreams gave me the chance to get out their and taste my dreams; the aspiration ones. Now that i think of it, my dreams gave me…my dreams! Both ways! Wierd, huh? I guess I owe it all to those dreams; the ones that make you wake up confused and wondering where you are. And the ones that make you scream or laugh in the middle of the night. But, yeah, i do…i owe it all to my brain for getting me out of middleofnowhere, Nebraska. Who woulda thought?

See, it all started the last day of senior year. I can remember every little thing about that day leading up to that night and that dream–oh, that dream–is forever seared to my brain with no hopes of removal. But i’m down with that. My room was orange. It had been my brother’s before he left to some auto-part junk yard; to ‘get his fortune’ was what he said. I think mom kicked him out. She never talked about it. Anyway, it was that horrible prison-suit orange. With brown comforters. It’s a miracle i ever fell asleep in that electrified room. I swear it could have been seen from space. But I’m getting sidetracked.

That night was when mom and dad were screaming again; this was before their divorce. They were fighting about…condiments i think. Yeah, she wanted yellow mustard, he wanted brown. I was down with ketchup, but they didn’t seen to notice me. But they were fighting so the wrinkles were past stressing point. Once my parents went on to what sort of pickles to buy, i was done. I fell onto bed exhausted. And it’s those nights; the ones where you could poke your eyes out for being so tired, that you can never seem to fall asleep. No joke. So it was tossing and turning, throwing my heads in the deflated pillow and trying to count the curses flowing from the other room. I couldn’t keep up. It was probably about two that i finally fell asleep that it finally happened. Duh.

It was simple really, i was standing on the school lawn and everyone was in the school staring at me. Which was uncomfortable. So i finally yelled, “What do you want?” and then, in unison, they all closed the windows and turned their backs to me. It made me so mad, i remember it. I was wanting to scream but it wouldn’t come out. Then, right there on the flag pole, i exploded. Not literally, no worries. I just started kicking and screaming and cursing about everything. Homework, people, parents, school, Nebraska, politics–everything. Even scrambled egss. And it just went on and on until one single window opened and this kid, who i didn’t even recognized, yelled “Shut Up!”. Then another window opened and one of my teachers (that psycho Mrs. Grennery) yelled “Grow Up!”. And every time a window closed another window opened and something else was yelled, becoming more and more personal that were yelled by strangers. Finally i couldn’t take it. With hot tears running down my face i just turned around.

That’s when i woke up. And that’s when life changed. I was late. My alarm hadn’t gone off and my mom and dad were too tired and mad to notice. So, it wasn’t until like lunch time that i got to school. I couldn’t find any friends to sit with, not that i had much. But still. The last day was not enjoyable. Most seniors were gone; the rest were sophomores who finally felt worthy to look at me. Boys were screaming about summer plans and girls were scouting out the best summer boyfriend. I think there were two fights by the end of the day. And there I was, recognizing faces from my dreams! I wanted to go slap them and argue about what they’d said. but of course, it wasn’t them really who said it. It was me. I realized that, that day, sitting in the bathroom as the bell rang. I just stared at my self–my short, freckled self–and wondered why my mind would make up such horrors for me. And that is when my life-changing epiphany came to pass. In a school bathroom. After every other student had gone home. That is when i realized i was destined to be invisible. Now, don’t worry. This isn’t some self-pity story where i burst into tears and flush my head down the toilet. It’s just, i finally got it. My life, just like my brother, was gonna dissapear into history and be meaningless. Unless i changed.

Let me tell you something about me. I’m a quiet girl. And not just shy, i just am careful; careful about trusting. I think it has something to do with my parents; how, when i was three, they got me a book. Well, no, it was more like a magazine. About finances. I think it haunted me. Especially since it was like the last birthday present i ever got. I don’t even think my parents really knew when my birthday was. But, yeah. That magazine showed me how some people–especially the close ones–just don’t care. That we’re a pretentious people who only care about ourselves. In high school you see it everywhere. the cliks, the labels, the rumors and gossip. Nobody cares. So i decided to not care…about not caring.

I think i knew one person i’d call a best friend. Her name was Sheila and she was put into foster care when her parents died in a car accident. I don’t know where she went, but she went away. that was in elementary. But i knew people. I’d go to parties, i laughed at school. They just weren’t…friends. Sheila was in my dream. I can still remember. She was the little girl i knew, poking her head through that window and yelling at me. But, she was different than the rest–she smiled. And i don’t remember what she said, but i can remember that smile. And it played a part; it changed my life.

But, in that bathroom i changed. I forgot the old me. It was a whole new ball-game. I was finally free. Looking there, letting those words from my dream rush over me, i smiled. i truly smiled for the first time. Then i picked up my bags and went home. Mom was burning dinner again; i could smell it as i stood at the front door. I knew dad wasn’t home yet, he didn’t get home till late. Maybe that’s why i did it. If dad had been home i could have never pulled it off. But it was just mom and she was in a crabby mood. So i went in, walked to my room, packed my bags and then walked to the kitchen.

“Mom,” i said, not daring to look at her, “A couple friends and I are going to…California for the week.”

“What about school?” was all she said, completly concentrated on scraping the burnt rubble off the pan.

“I graduated mom. Today was the last day.”

“Oh, oh yeah. Now that you say that…sorry.” but she wasn’t sorry. “Don’t you have some sorta ceremony to go to? To get your diploma?”

I was getting slightly angry. Or maybe sad. You know, i find it funny. Mom and dad had never been in any of my dreams. Thinking about it, i wonder why. But that doesn’t matter. I made up some lie about how it had been right after school and now we were celebrating. The sad thing is she bought it. And i was out the door. I don’t think it even registered to her that there was no car out front, no laughing girls. Just me and a duffel bag full of clothes.

I brought my phone, but she never called. Two weeks in, it died and i was somewhere in Kansas. Those weeks on the road were exciting. Creepy, cold and sufficiently frightening; but cool. I met more people going then i ever had staying. Some people i wish i’d never met, but i did and i lived. My dreams got me through. I never had an exact repeat, but phrases from that dream would pop in. In a sad way, they motivated me.

I’m sure i looked like some harley-riding man by the time i got to Texas but, man, that smile on my face was huge. This must be confusing. Looking back at what i’ve written, it seems like i turned more invisible, more useless. But my life seemed to glow with opportunity and seeing that Lone Star waving over cities and over plains was amazing. You have to understand, coming from a town with a population of 1,000 and being thirty miles from the closest walmart can choke a girl. Especially one with dreams. So getting out and seeing different kinds of people; all different kinds, let me tell ya, was amazing.

I got a job in Austin as a secretary to some small Lawyer. It took me a while to secure it; he said i didn’t have the ‘credentials’ but i had the ‘character’. I didn’t argue. While he was in court or doing something out of the office, i’d sit his desk, pull out a pen and start writing. I’d sit there and imagine being on some talk show; dancing with Ellen, crying with Oprah and being celebrated for some work of fiction. Those were daydreams. And they were great. But my dreams were better. They tasted more real. Even when they included me dressed as a clown.

That year as a secretary was great, but I was restless. So i said goodbye and moved on to be a radio talk show host, then i became a private assistant for some unpronounceable designer. By now i was hot, not physically, but i was up top. There were things i did in that city that i’d never heard of up in Nebraska. Not bad, just different. I bought a pair of designer jeans and got some heels to match. They cost $500. It didn’t take me long to learn that was nothing. I made friends, got boyfriends, broke and made relationships, met people–famous people, i even made people–i actually had a life. But then i met Greg. He was a homeless sixteen year old. No family, no schooling. I took him in. Some people called me crazy, but, after life on the road, i knew crazy and crazy wasn’t Greg. I taught him and helped him get a job. No handouts–i made him earn his keep. And, when he turned eighteen, he had my old job–with the lawyer. before parting ways he told me something, something i can still remember being shouted in my dream. It was weird hearing it in the flesh after dreaming it constantly. But he just looked at me and said, “You’re worth somethin’”. I guess i was.

That’s when i really lived my dream. I quit my job, bought a house slightly out of the city and started the Lost Boarder’s. I turned my house–it was massive–into a safe haven for those cold, wandering teens. At first there was a counselor on hand, but after hundreds of late-night visit’s to my room i took a step of faith and started relying on my own knowledge and thoughts to teach those kids. I helped them get settled, realize their dreams and aspirations; i showed them they were worth something and they could reach what they wanted to. I had over 100 boarders that first year. It was a lot of mouths to feed and board and help, and they were required to work for it. Hours were spent at a neighboring farm helping harvest and plant. I developed a plan to get some experience in them; ‘Internship’ was what it was called. They could go and find someone willing to teach them their trade and give them a sort of job. At first it was just that radio and lawyer, but soon many people started taking them in. Girls got department stores, boys could get into the police department. It was just a few hours a week, but it showed those kids a whole new world. And people started to notice. Donations flowed in, interviews were given, adoptions even sprang up.

I was living my dream, you know. There is nothing more amazing then that. I could step out onto my lawn, next to a giant flagpole, and have random teens pop out and say things to me. This time it was nicer. And this time i recognized every one. And when i looked in the mirror i always smiled. It’s a good life; a recognizable life. I’m not invisible. I made something of myself and I’m proud of what it’s become. Because, even when i go, these people will remain–maybe this place will even remain. Either way, i did leave a legacy. A legacy and a dream. Which is more than i could have ever asked for.

Oh, and you know what? I’m reserved for Oprah next month. I’m sure a few tears will fall, if only because i get to share it. i get to share my dream.

Evalyn’s Memoirs January 22, 2008

Dear world, my name is Evalyn and I was told to write of my day–for future family. I must write an account of every day, Carson will check every night. But i wasn’t given any rules. I suppose i could write about me; what i like, what i do. But it seems that would be awfully boring. Yet so would my day to day activities. Most days pass in a blur, exactly the same as the day before. Mother says thats how much of life is and one must get used to it. But i disagree. Many people’s lives seem exciting, at least more so than mine. But i can’t change my life–i’m trapped as i am, in this awful position. (i thought it best to cut that word since mother and father both might read this and they believe me to be satisfied, which i suppose i should be.) So, i suppose, i’m stuck writing about me or my day, and i apologize to you now, for i have no doubt both will be awfully dull. Yet here it is, my first page. And i dare not demand you to read on if it isn’t wished, for i believe if i had to read it, i’d rip my hair out. Yet, every day i’ll be forced here, to write. And i suppose i should get on with it, for Carson is probably on his way. He is my tutor and if not for his reading it, i would fill this page with every insult i can think of, for he deserves it. I wish he would leave. Father only keeps him because he is his cousin, It’s positively unbelievable that royal blood could fill such a man. I wont cross this out, for he knows i despise him entirely, but i will write on, otherwise he will take this to father and i will be forced to apoligize.

In my studies today, i learned some french, which was positively as dull as it sounds. Then i spent some time with Winifred, my black thoroughbred; roaming through the estate which gets old quite fast. So i went and finished my needlework with Alura, my servant. She said my picture was turning out beautifully. It was of the Winter palace (which i feel would be far more enjoyable in the summer, but mother feels summer should be spent near the sea so i cannot disagree.) and was destined to be a pillow case. I feel it would be much more stunning as a small tapestry in the side hall outside my room–my goal is to convince Alura to feel the same, which shouldn’t be too hard. Then mother and i had supper in the small dining hall. It was simple meal since father was not there, he was at the winter palace for some political affair, something boring that i convinced mother to stay away from. Well, i suppose i also didn’t wish to go because Frederic would be there and he is the last man i wish to see. Except maybe Carson.

Carson just came in to check this–he calls it my “Memoirs”, which seems a rather ridiculously fancy word for something so simple. But that doesn’t matter. He left in a huff after he finished reading it. It was satisfying to see him turn so red. Mother says i should be nicer to him, but he is awful and she doesn’t have to spend nearly every day in his company. Anyway, i was talking about Frederic.

Mother and father both expect me to marry him, when the time comes of course. He is supposedly the most suitable: the son of the prince of a neighboring country. His father will never be king; he was the second son and so Frederic will never be king either. Unless some sort of plague kills every other line of royalty. So hopefully that is never. He is well educated and somewhat handsome. But he is so dull. Of course, everyone says he would grow on me. Mother goes as far to say i’d hate anyone she found simply because i was, and i quote, a “wild spirit”. I hardly agree. If she arranged me to Jefferson, i’d be completely happy. He works in the stables doing…something or other. I think he trains the horses. But, besides his obvious peasantry faults, mother would never make the match. He was far too old (he is probably thirty-three and i hardly sixteen) and not at all handsome. Yet he was kind–always did what i asked, but he did it with dignity that surprised me. All my other servants look wide-eyed and sickly when i speak to them. But Jefferson at least smiles when he bows. He calls me e-ay, says i remind him of his daughter (who i think must be dead since i never see her.). And he teaches me more than Carson ever does. Why, just today, he told me butterflies came from a worm. He even showed me a nest where they became beautiful. He said it was a cocoon. Mother thinks its horrid that i talk to a commoner so much, and normally i would too. But he doesn’t bother me, maybe I’m just completely bored.

I suppose i should stop writing, it is getting late and if mother knew i was up, she’d probably strangle me. “Beauty sleep is needed sleep” is her motto. She is in bed before the sun goes down and usually stays asleep till long after the sun comes up. Which, to me, is a ridiculous life–even more boring than mine. Maybe that will change; my boring life, i mean. Caroline is coming tomorrow and staying till summer. She is my cousin; i’ve never met her. She lives somewhere south of here and is about to become queen over there. But she’s my age, which is terrifying–that she is almost queen, i mean. Her parents both got sick while she was studying abroad and died soon after she got home. I hope that doesn’t happen to me. If i became queen right now i might die. But she wishes to spend her last months as a young women with someone her age. Mother says she’s been stuck with the gentlemen and ladies of the court, delegates from different countries, tutors and priests for months since her parents died. They’ve all been teaching her the ways of the country and such. And when mother heard, she immediately sent for her to spend the months with us. I’m a bit nervous. She must be so grown up, becoming queen and all. But there is nothing i can do now. I have to sleep.

So farewell, my memoirs, till tomorrow. Maybe life wont be so dull then.
Evalyn

* Find the rest on the “Evalyn’s Memoirs” Page *

Chimichanga Truths January 15, 2008

It was one of those mornings. The ones where you smash the alarm clock and wish it was all a dream. You know, the one where you hear your mom cooking in the kitchen, see the pile of homework on your desk and wish you were a million miles away–anywhere where school was not required. But it didn’t work, all the wishing i mean. I had to get up and move.

And what’s more? The forward saying if i sent it to 20 people, my wish would be granted was wrong–again. My mom had cooked chimichanga’s. She thought the true happiness in anyone’s life should come around a table, eating together. But it couldn’t be just anything; it had to be mexican–the ‘home’ food.

“Morning, Eva!” she said, rambling on in spanish as she kissed my cheek. “I made chimichanga’s for breakfast.”

“no, mama, i’m…not hungry. Besides, Tyler is coming to pick me up soon.”

“Not hungry!” grabbing me by the arm and spinning me around, “You almost disappear into the air! If a chimichanga were as small as you, there would be nothing there! You must eat. Tyler can have some.”

“Mom, no! We’ll get something else to eat. Chimichanga’s aren’t…breakfast.” I threw her off of my arm and walked towards the front door.

“Fine, but i hope you know McDonalds doesn’t count as food.”

I rolled my eyes, mumbling under my breath, “probably healthier.”

I suppose all girls have this problem. The detachment-from-mom phase. But it wasn’t so much mom. It was the chimichanga craze. See, she had this psycho idea that bringing family together made anything healthy. I was a teenage girl. And more, i was a teenage girl in a New York City public school. Fitting in was key to surviving. And being fat and covered in grease most definitely did not fit the cool category. But Tyler did. He was gorgeous. And he was mine.

I couldn’t help but blush with excitement as i saw his car pull up. I didn’t wait for him to come get me–i ran out the door before mom could wave excitedly to him and embarrass me once more. With one of those sweet “good morning” kisses, haunted with the taste of coffee and cream cheese, he greeted me, wrapping his arm tight around me as he pulled away from the curb.

We just drove towards the heart of the city and Adams High School, the radio blasting. Not a word was said, just our pulses blending together. I loved those moments. Utter peace ramming heads with the intense chaos of the city, leaving me more excited than a kid on christmas eve. His hand beat softly on the steering wheel, his crystal blue eyes focused on the road. My hand slid up his neck, fingers twisting through his dark hair. He smiled. I smiled too, itching for another kiss.

“Eva, don’t do that while i’m driving!”

“What?” i asked, playing innocent.

“The…neck thing!”

“Oh, you mean this?” i asked, my fingers tickling the hairs on his neck.

He shuddered, “Exactly.”

I laughed, leaning over to kiss the same spot my fingers had been.

“That doesn’t help either.” But he looked at me and grabbed a kiss, sending butterflies through my stomach.

“How was your morning?” he asked, his eyes back on the road as the light turned green.

“You mean besides waking up to the smell of–”

“Chimichanga’s.” he offered, a smile toying at his mouth.

“Exactly. She just–i dunno, she wont…let go.”

“Eva, she’s spanish. I’m pretty sure you are too.”

“Well, yeah, but we’re in America. She’s not even pure spanish. I mean, why can’t she…let go–just a little. i just–chimichanga’s have got to be the worst. And she like tries to…tie it into my life. Its annoying! Like yesterday, after i missed my curfew by like ten minutes, she explodes and gives me this lecture about chimichanga’s! She goes, ‘Eva Dimaz, life cannot be wasted! And being late is wasting. Why, think if the chimichanga’s stayed in the oil too long? A burnt chimichanga is tasteless and no good! You must be perfected, like a chimichanga!’ It’s like all she thinks about, i swear!”

“Well, i know sometimes i wish my mom cared as much as yours. Minus the chimichanga’s.”

I laughed. “But your mom doesn’t ban Mcdonald’s or…Bloomingdale’s from the house! ‘Chimichanga’s are chimichanga’s, and they are best with themselves’ She doesn’t even care about what i like!”

“I think she does but…i’m just saying, your mom wants to keep your culture alive. And i guess that means chimichanga’s. I think its awesome.”

We pulled into the parking lot and i was glad that conversation was over. He always reminded me of my mom when he went on those schpeals. Not that it was exactly bad, just…annoying. But i didn’t have time to be annoyed. School was starting. Another day of judgments, challenges of the ‘cools’ and just trying to fit in. Tyler had to run, he had a test to take before school. So, with a kiss that made my insides flip, he left me to fend for myself in the psycho world called High School.

“Eva! Eva!” Kary was next to me, a sputtering cigarette in her hand. She was laughing.

“Hey, why so…happy?”

“he kissed me–just now!” She bit her lip, spinning to face someone. It was Ricky.

“Ugh! that makes you smile? I’d rather swallow my own barf.”

Kary rolled her eyes, “Then barfing would be pointless, huh. And gross. besides, he’s awesome.”

“Kay, kary, he’s sitting on a car in the parking lot looking like he hasn’t showered in a year and he smells like a street corner.”

Kary just laughed, blowing a kiss in his direction. “Like that matters? Besides, its not like we’re together. I don’t think he even knows my name.”

I just rolled my eyes, and couldn’t help but smile when one of mom’s saying came to mind. “Chimichanga’s are good together, they lose their taste alone.”

“You might wanna put that out.” i said, pointing at the cigarette, “I’m gonna be sick and the principal’s coming this way.”

She quickly dropped it to the ground and let it fizzle in the gutter, grabbing a piece of gum and shoving it in her mouth. Then she grabbed me and pulled me towards the doors. “You need to liven up Eva. Tyler’s gonna toss you if you stay so boring. Omigod, what is that smell?” She said, interupting herself, “Its like i just walked into chinatown or something.”

I quickly sniffed myself and groaned, “Its me. Mom cooked those stupid chimichanga’s again.”

Kary took a quick step away from me, “That’ gross.”

I scoffed, “C’mon! It’s not like i ate them!”

“Well you smell like you rolled in them. What if you’re contaminated?” She laughed at herself. “Kay, well, i’ve gotta go. And i probably wont see you at lunch!” she called with a wink, “Its me and ricky time!”

I grimaced, shuddering as the bell rang. I meandered through the dwindling crowds, trying hard to wish my way out of class. But it seemed, like always, my wish wouldn’t be granted. And as i finally raced to class to make the late bell, my mom’s chimichanga lessons ran through my head. She had millions “a chimichanga must be perfected–it is not born so.” or “a burnt chimchanga cannot bring joy, nor can a deblossomed woman.” I couldn’t help but smile. And as i raced into my class, i hardly heard the sarcastic statement my teacher through out. “Chimichanga’s are sweet or they are lost.” ran through my head instead. I laughed outloud, thinking of all the times my mom had thrown something about a chimichanga in my face. Maybe she was right. Maybe Tyler was right. I sank into my chair, breathing in the smells of home from my sweater, tuning the teachers droll out. It was peaceful; the smells and the thoughts. And when tyler walked in to take his seat next to mine, i just smiled. I finally understood. I had finally tasted the Chimichanga Truths.