She remains quiet, shaking her head unconvinced.
Luckily, I hear the sound of Erik’s horn outside before I’m forced to listen to her rant about how smoking pot leads to heroin addiction and that all rock stars are dopers or burnouts. “I have cheerleading camp after school, remember,” I remind her as I open the door to our mobile home and make a quick exit.
“Do good,” she hollers after me. “Those tumbling lessons weren’t cheap, ya know?”
I roll my eyes, glad to be out of there. This is almost becoming our morning routine. Mom was fine with Erik until we started going steady and then, suddenly, it’s as if I’ve somehow thrown a wrench into her plans for me.
I understand that. Since she and my father split eight years ago, she’s been doing it all on her own. She works two jobs to keep us afloat and she’s hell-bent on me going to college, although I can’t see how that’s going to happen. My father has remarried and lives out of state now. He doesn’t help out financially…at all.
I pile into Erik’s ‘65 ‘Stang and immediately the sound of Led Zeppelin IV greets me. Erik’s favorite rock group and one of mine as well.
“Hey you,” I say. “Just in time.”
“Your mom jumping in your shit again?” he asks. He looks over at me and, as always, I am totally enraptured by his brooding dark looks. His thick, dark hair is nearly to his shoulders, but it only makes him look hotter and those dark blue eyes pierce right through me.
“Yeah, the usual,” I reply.
He cranks up his 8-track and backs out into the drive of the trailer park. We head down towards the two-lane highway that snakes around the county and ends up at Mountain View High School. I’m a sophomore and Erik a junior.
“I’m staying after school for the cheerleading practice for try-outs,” I say. “Can you hang around and give me a ride home around four-thirty?”
“I’ll come back and pick you up,” he answers, changing tracks on the tape so that ‘Stairway to Heaven’ starts playing. “And, why are you trying out for the pep squad? I thought you said those chicks were plastic?”
I have to smile because that’s exactly what I said to him when I didn’t make the squad the year before. “Decided to give it another shot. Besides, Mom keeps reminding me how much money she spent on those gymnastic lessons, so I guess I owe it to her to give it another try.”
“Your mom wants you to do that whole preppy scene, including having a jock boyfriend, huh?”
Erik Laughlin is a deep and perceptive person, but then again, my mother is not subtle with her words or her actions. It’s been obvious to him these last couple of years that she’s hell-bent on pushing me into a different social group.
“Yeah, well I’m my own person,” I reply. “No cheerleading sweater’s gonna change that.”
Nothing more is said until he pulls up into the half circle drive in front of the school rather than in the student’s parking lot in back. I look over at him quizzically.
“I’m bugging out of classes today. Goin’ to spend the day with the band. Dave’s parents are gone, so we can practice there.”
I give him ‘the look,’ but remain silent. Erik is so bright, so smart, but school is not a priority for him. It’s all about his music. And, I’ve got to say, he’s extremely talented in that arena as well. He’s the drummer and back-up singer for a local rock band called ‘Roxy.’
I lean over and give him a kiss. “See you at four-thirty then?”
“Later,” he says, kissing me back. “Love you.”
“Me too.”
I watch as he drives off, wondering if things might be changing between us. I can tell that he feels it even though he doesn’t say it out loud. I love Erik, but I’m only sixteen years old and I’ve been focusing on my future plans lately. Getting a part-time job, planning for college. I’m like that. I like to have some sort of blueprint on where my future is heading. Maybe at seventeen, he’s doing the exact same thing. Are we drifting apart?
It feels like it.
He started off as kind of the boy-next-door best friend, who then morphed into the guy who gave me my first kiss and, ultimately, the one who asked me to go steady with him.
But, I know that he’s not happy that we haven’t taken our physical love to the ultimate level just yet. I mean, we make out like crazy at times and, yes, he’s been under my shirt many times and down my pants once, but that’s as far as it’s gone because I always stop him and he’s not been happy about it.
“What’s your deal, Cece? I have rubbers that are turning to dust.”
“I’m not ready, Erik.”
“When will you be ready?”
“You’ll be the first to know.”
My thoughts are interrupted when my best friend comes up to me, looking perturbed for some reason.
“I wondered where the hell you were,” Kim says, looking down the road. “So what? Erik’s skipping school again? What is it this time?”
“The band,” I say with a sigh. “What else?”
She shakes her head, flipping her long brown hair back over her shoulders. “I don’t get it. Why do you bother with him at all? I mean I get that he’s good looking and deep, but shit—those dudes in his band are losers for sure.”
“Erik’s not a loser,” I snap back instantly. “He’s got talent and I don’t own him, so drop it, Kim.”
“I didn’t say
he
was a loser,” she quickly interjects. “It’s just that you need to broaden your horizons here. I mean, if you make cheerleader this time, you’ll have a whole new social circle available to you. I don’t see Erik fitting in.”
I quickly stop and turn to her. “Is that the only reason you’re trying out? To what? Hang with the clique?”
“What’s wrong with that?” she asks, defensively. “Aren’t you tired of being on the outside looking in?”
“That’s not how I see myself. I’m happy in my own skin. Besides that, what if one of us makes it and the other one doesn’t? Does that mean we won’t hang with each other anymore?”
We’ve reached our lockers by this time and Kim takes a moment before replying. “Don’t be dumb, Cece. You know we’ll always be friends. I mean, if you don’t make it, nothing will change between us, I promise.”
Kim obviously feels she’s got a better chance of taking one of the three open slots for the varsity squad next season. I feel a bit ticked at her assumption, especially since she hasn’t perfected her back handspring yet and I have.
“Pretty sure of yourself, huh?”
“I didn’t mean it like
that
,” she replies, slamming her locker shut. “It’s just that I’m going with Keith and he is a super jock who’s pretty tight with the senior cheerleaders. They’re the ones doing the judging. So, yeah, it just might give me the edge I need.”
We head down the hallway, turning the corner towards our homeroom when I collide with a varsity letter jacket. I’m knocked against the wall and immediately I’m ready to hurl a profanity at the dickhead wearing it.
Then I see who it is and I’m overcome with shyness.
“Hey - sorry, Cece. Are you okay?”
I swallow nervously, feeling my tongue getting tied up like it always does when I look into those pale blue eyes. I simply nod.
“You sure? I slammed into you pretty good there.”
“I’m cool, Marshall,” I finally sputter. “No harm.”
He gives me a dazzling smile and a wink and saunters off in a fast pace, once again, heading to his homeroom before the bell goes off.
Marshall Rydell is the Big Man on Campus at our high school. He letters in every sport offered and, even though he’s a junior, he makes first-string everything…including the ladies. It’s no secret that Marshall can have any chick he wants within a hundred mile radius. With looks like a young Troy Donahue; tall, blond and built like a brick shithouse, along with his many achievements on and off the playing field, I’m both surprised and flattered that he knows my name.
“Earth to Cece,” Kim interrupts my train of thought. “He knows your name. Do you realize that?”
“We have a study hall together,” I reply, trying my best to act ambivalent when, at the moment, I know my heart is still racing wildly and that makes me feel guilty. “C’mon, we’re going to be late to homeroom.”
“You see? This is exactly what I’m talking about, Cece. You’re so out of touch with the possibilities here. I mean, Marshall Rydell? He’s the ‘golden boy’ of this town. Handsome, a jock and his family is flippin’ rich out the ass.”
“Erik’s better lookin’,” I reply as we hear the bell ring.
“You’re hopeless.”
“Cece, I’m leaving for work early,” Mom tells me as I’m painting my fingernails alternate colors of green and gold. “You sure you have a ride to the pep rally?”
“Yep. Kim’s got her mom’s car and we’re going to the bonfire after the rally and then she’ll drop me off here.”
“Mind your curfew. Just because I won’t be home until one doesn’t mean you can stay out past midnight, you hear?”
“I hear.”
She brushes a kiss on the top of my head. “Did I mention how proud I am of you for making the squad?”
“Yeah, you did,” I reply giving her a smile. “Several times.”
She sighs, brushing my hair back from my face. “You’re gonna have a better life than I ever did, that’s for sure.”
“Why? Because I made the cheerleading squad?”
“Not just that, honey. You’re learning to compete and going after something and getting it. You’ll be in a whole new social circle.”
That statement prompts an eye roll from me.
“Just you wait and see,” she replies. “Have fun and remember to have your butt home by midnight.”
“Later, Mom.”
Once I’m alone, I contemplate her words. I don’t see how this one accomplishment is going to do all
that
for me. I look out the window of our mobile home and see Erik working on his car. I know he’s got a gig tonight. He blew off going to the bonfire for that reason, but I know he wouldn’t have gone regardless. High school social events are not “his thing.” This particular event marks the last week of classes. Finals start next week and then school is out for summer break.
I wave my hands in the air to help dry my nails. I’ve got about fifteen minutes before Kim gets here and I need to talk to him.
I saunter over across the road to where he’s fiddling with something underneath the hood of his car.
“What’s happening?” I ask, startling him momentarily. He straightens up, doing a quick perusal of me in my short green skirt, gold tee shirt and white tennies.
“You’re lookin’ like ‘Susie Sorority’ these days,” he comments, wiping off the oil dipstick on a rag. He gives a slight smile so I realize he’s just poking a little fun at me.
“Wish you were gonna be there,” I reply.
“You’ll do fine without me,” he remarks, opening a can of motor oil. “You’re really starting to fit in with the preppies these days.”
“Is that what this is about, Erik? Are you feeling left out? Because that’s your choice, you know?”
And he immediately stops what he’s doing and glares at me. “Hey, I know it’s
my
choice, Cece. And I’d be fine with the direction you’re headed in if I was sure that it was
your
choice.”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning, you’re living your life the way your mom wants you to live it. You’re not being real.”
“Oh, I see. And I guess I’m just
plastic
like everyone else that doesn’t fit into
your
scheme of things, right?”
“Hey, at least I’m my own person. Not someone else’s version of it.”
He is really starting to piss me off. “You know what Erik? You start senior year in the fall; I start junior year. Maybe we’ve outgrown one another. We don’t spend much time together anymore, so what’s the point?”
“The point is that I thought we loved each other, Cece. I thought we both had the same dreams.”
“How can you say that? Do you even know what my dreams are?”
He looks at me - I mean
really
looks at me and his eyes seem to flash even darker. “I thought us being together was both of our dreams.”
And my heart feels heavy with the realization that what he just said is too simplistic; too damn easy.
Not definitive enough.
I start to tell him just that when I hear Kim tapping the horn of her mother’s Chevy as if she’s impatient for me to get away from Erik, which is exactly what she is.
“I guess I’ll see you later,” I say, moving closer to see if he plans on giving me a kiss before I go. I don’t like leaving things strained.
He turns back to his car engine and mumbles, “later.”
Evidently not.
As Kim drives off, I endure her badgering once again about Erik. She doesn’t understand what he’s been to me for the past eight years. When we moved here, my parents had just split. He was nine; I was eight and we became fast friends.
He’d jump rope with me as long as I was willing to go frog gigging with him. We fished, we rode bikes, we trick-or-treated together and then one day, we kissed.
He was fourteen; I was thirteen. We’d been sitting out in front of his trailer on the picnic table, looking up into the dark night sky and naming the stars. He had simply reached over, put his hand behind my head and drew my face up to his.
It had been the sweetest, softest kiss ever. I asked him what prompted him to do that. He said he’d wanted to ever since Billy Bradshaw had told him that he was going to ask me to go steady. Of course, I had turned Billy down flat, which Erik knew, but he still wanted to kiss me.
That was pretty cool.
I had asked Erik if the kiss meant that
he
wanted to go steady. He replied, “Maybe later.”
The following September, on my fourteenth birthday, Erik gave me a silver friendship ring and we officially started going steady. That was more than two years ago. Erik would turn eighteen in August; I would turn seventeen in September. We had been a part of each other’s lives for nearly half of it.
I was twisting the silver ring on my left finger.
“So are you gonna answer me?” Kim is saying.
“What?”
“I asked you if you and Erik had ever, you know? Done it?”
“No,” I reply sadly, not understanding why I even feel that way. “What about you and Keith?”
Kim has no issue with sharing personal information, that much I know.