Restless

THIS IS A WORK IN PROGRESS - ANY COMMENTS WILL BE WELCOME!

“Our dead are restless, Kathleen. They're missing someone, and they'll be here soon.”

I let the wooden screen door go as I turn to face her; I jump a little when it bangs shut behind me. I look across the sunny kitchen to where my grandmother is bent over the table, kneading bread. Her silver hair is pulled back in a low pony-tail. I watch her and I’m a little jealous of her elegance and grace. No matter what she’s doing, she is perfect and I love her but when she starts this “dead” stuff I want to bail. It’s creepy. What’s even creepier? I know exactly what she’s talking about because I can feel them too. I just refuse to listen to them. “God, Mimi, stop saying crap like that; it’s not normal!”

“Kathleen!” Mimi laughs. “I know you feel them, too. They’re a part of you. It will serve you well to pay them some attention. If you continue to ignore them, they’ll make trouble; they don’t like to be ignored. They like to feel needed.”

I shiver. I hate when she goes all Celtic spooky on me. It’s not like we even live in Ireland. We live in Massachusetts. We’re not even all that Irish anymore. There’s just residue, not the good stuff either. All I got was freckles and an affinity for the dead, both of which I’d give away in a second.

“Fine!” I pout. “I’m not discussing this anymore! The dead are dead. They should stay that way!” I turn and leave, letting the screen door go with a smack. I’m practically running by the time I get to the woods. I hate being around people – dead and alive - when everything is restless. I just want to be alone. I run through the woods until I reach the meadow where I collapse. I’m drawn here whenever I’m upset. I don’t understand why, but it makes me feel calm.

“SHUT UP! LEAVE ME ALONE! I don’t care what you want. I hate you all. You’re more than useless. I don’t know what you want! Go see Mimi. She likes you. Me, I hate you and wish you would die forever.”

Our dead don’t really talk to me. Not really. That might actually be kind of cool. I could walk up to people and freak them out by telling them their secrets. But then there’d be those who would want me to help them contact their poor old aunt or find out where Grandpa Sal stashed his money. It doesn’t work that way for me ‘cause our dead are lame. I can only “hear” our dead. Our, as in family, dead. Dead relatives. Yeah, totally and completely lame.

I don’t really “hear” them as much as I feel them. They’re not here all the time. They only show up when someone in the family is going to die. The problem is the never tell you who it is or when it’s going to happen. So they just hang around and make trouble, moving stuff, hovering, making me jumpy and gloomy. Whenever they’re here I feel like I’m swimming in melancholy. They surround me; it’s in the air I breathe and the water I drink. A fog that gets thicker as the event gets closer.

As I lay in the fragrant grass, feeling the sun warm on my face, I remember the first time I came to the meadow; I was twelve. It was my first experience with our dead. I thought I was going crazy and I was going to ask my mom to take me to the doctor.  It was summer and it was already hot and sticky. I was sitting on the front porch rail trying hard to stay cool and failing miserably. I loved to sit on the railing and try to follow the maze of climbing roses as they worked their way up the trellis. The porch is wide and deep and it runs the length of the house. It has square columns that are the perfect leaning size. I’m slumped against the first column next to the stairs, one leg dangling off the side when Mimi finds me.

“Come on Kitten, let’s have a walk.”

I didn’t want to move since I was already sweaty and sticky, but since she’s my grandmother, I really had no choice. Mimi headed for the flagstone path that ran along the side of the house, stopping to pull a weed from the flower bed, and headed for the woods. I jumped off the railing and hurried after her, not sure where she was taking me but I was determined to be as miserable as possible about it. We walk in silence until we are well into the woods.

“I’ve noticed that you’re not yourself Kathleen. I know it’s hard when they first realize you can hear them.”

Whoa. I pretend I can’t hear her but she just keeps talking.

“I was your age when I first heard them. I think it was the summer before I turned twelve.”

I stop walking. “What did you say?” I asked her quietly. Pretty sure my mouth stayed open there at the end.

Mimi turns to look at me. “Our dead, Kathleen, I know you can hear them. I also know that when it first starts it can be a little disorienting.”

“DISORIENTING! I’m going crazy and you call it disorienting?” I stare at her. Standing there in the middle of the woods with my hands on my hips, I open and close my mouth willing it to say something that resembles a coherent thought.

“You’re certainly not crazy, Kathleen. Come on, it’s not far, now.”

“I’m not taking another step until you tell me what’s going on!” I cross my arms and set my face.

“I intend to but we really can’t talk out here in the open.” Mimi replies.

“Mimi, we’re alone. In the woods!” but Mimi, not listening, turns and walks away. I watch as she disappears. Like disappears, disappears. One second she’s there, the next she’s gone, disappeared.

“Hurry, Kathleen. We don’t have all day.”

“Wait. Where are you? What, what just happened? WHERE DID YOU GO?”

“Keep on the path and you’ll find me.”

An owl hoots and I nearly jump out of my skin. Cautiously, I start walking. I’m looking around for what, I’m not really sure. I keep on the path and walk between two dead trees, their branches stretched across the path forming a barrier; I brace myself for scratches but feel nothing. I turn to see how I managed to escape being scratched and I’m shocked to see two stately old Birch trees. They’re the oldest trees I’ve ever seen, tall and graceful, their branches woven overhead into a beautiful canopy. When I turn back, I find Mimi standing in a beautiful meadow like nothing weird was going on at all.

I’m awestruck. I’m standing in a small meadow, surrounded by more Birch trees. The trees stretch upward, weaving their branches into a living ceiling made from leaves. A breeze ripples through the meadow. The sun filters through giving the meadow an ethereal glow. Where I entered stands a delicate metal gate covered in morning glories. The air is gently perfumed. In the center of the meadow is a smaller area defined by rocks and boulders of varying size. The light seems brighter there and I’m drawn to it. The dead that have been crowing me are quieted, calm.

“Are you sure I’m not going crazy, Mimi? ‘Cause I kind of feel like I am.”

“I’m sure, Kitten, but I wouldn’t be able to explain what’s happening without first showing you this place.” She says as she walks to the edge of the meadow to where a large boulder rests. She sits down, patting the spot next to her. I walk over and sit on a rock that is more comfortable than it should be. I am not prepared for what comes next.

“Kathleen.” She says as she takes my hands in hers. “You’re special. More special than you realize. Our family has a great responsibility; we are the guardians of this meadow. I am guardian now but one day it will be your responsibility”

“NO!” I shout. “This can’t be real. I refuse to let it be real. I don’t want to know anymore.”

“Let me finish, please. There are some things that are bigger than one person, one family. This is one of them. Our family, the guardian specifically, is responsible for safeguarding the inhabitants of ‘The Isle of the Blest.’”

“Am I hallucinating? I looked it up and it said that you can’t always tell ‘cause it feels real. That’s why they’re dangerous. Oh, why am I asking you? You’re part of this. Maybe I banged my head.”

“You’re fine Kathleen. I know this is a lot to comprehend and I’ll do everything I can to help you adjust and prepare for when you will be Guardian – Coimirceoir. Our surname, Cameron, comes from it. I’m still the current guardian and I will remain Guardian until it’s time for you to take over. We’ll need to start on your studies.”

“But…” I try to interrupt.

“The Isle of the Blest is where the dead reside, Kathleen. We have been the Coimirceoir since before recorded time. In Ireland, we were once considered Priestesses and were honored and revered above all others. The affinity we have with our dead allows us to communicate with the inhabitants of the Isle. More importantly, it allows the dead to communicate with us. Together we keep the living away. It is an important task Kathleen and one our family has performed scrupulously. Strange and powerful magic resides there and it cannot be allowed into the realm of the living. This meadow is a sacred place and it is my – really our whole families – responsibility to keep it safe.”

“Are mom and dad part of this?” I interrupt.

“Yes. I’ll get to their role in all this but first let me tell this my way.”

I’m dragged from my memory by the dead. They are thick and suffocating. I can feel them in every pore. They’re so thick I can almost see them, like a fog, gathering along the ground and curling in and around the boulders at the center of the meadow. I can’t see the trees, only the canopy above. Then they are gone. Totally gone. No sound. No pressure. Silence so pure it hurts. That’s when I panic. If the dead are quiet that means someone’s died.

“Kitten? Are you here?” Mimi’s voice surrounds me.

“Oh my god, Mimi, is everyone ok? Who? What happened? How?” The questions spill from my mouth without thought or order. I’m practically hyperventilating. “It’s not Mom or Dad? Please don’t be them!”

“They’re fine Kitten.” Mimi replies.

I scan the meadow looking for her. “MIMI?” I shout as I start to panic. “Where are you? I can’t see through the fog.”

“I’m here, Kitten, you just can’t see me any longer.” Her voice is wistful and sad.

Enough is Enough

I really haven't been myself this week.

I'm so beyond done with all the stupid crap that has been swirling around since Friday that I just do not care anymore what people think or feel about what I write.

This started as a status update on Facebook but it grew so quickly that I felt it deserved it's own blog post.

I'm disappointed.

In people.

Deeply and – what feels at this moment – irreversibly disappointed.

Disappointed with people I know,

Disappointed with those I don’t.

But I’m not just disappointed; I’m tired.

I'm tired of hearing that all society's ills are because we can’t pray in school.

I’m tired of explaining that homosexuality isn’t a life-style choice.

I’m tired of hearing that abortion is what is ruining America.

I’m tired of defending my gender and their fight to control their own bodies and make their own decisions.

I’m tired of watching young black men die just for being black.

I’m tired of watching people try to keep us divided in order to control us.

But I’m not just tired; I’m disgusted.

I’m disgusted with religions and religious people who preach hate and bigotry and label those who believe differently as evil.

I’m disgusted that we have people who think arming teachers is a solution.

I’m disgusted that people think that prayer in schools would have changed anything.

I’m disgusted with myself and others like me that have turned a blind eye to the massacre of urban black children but spring to action and demand Congress act when a school full of suburban white children are slaughtered.

But I’m not just disgusted; I’m outraged.

I’m outraged that we even need to have a discussion on whether someone should be allowed to own and possess weapons that are designed to slaughter the most people in the shortest amount of time.

But I'm not just outraged; I'm sad.

I'm sad that people will call for more and better access to mental health care yet want to cut funding to the very services that would provide the care, including repealing Obamacare.

I'm sad that people vilify teachers as lazy and incompetent then post pictures calling them heroes.

I'm especially sad that these people are not "others". They are friends and family and colleagues.

Update from Pam Land

It’s been a while since I spent any time writing about Pam. That, however, does not mean that I’ve not been thinking about her and her story.

Writing fiction is hard; harder than I thought it would be. Not ditch-digging hard or third-shift on your feet hard but it presents its challenges. Not just worrying about dialogue but also having a compelling and cohesive story arc but also giving in and letting the story be what it wants to be. Yeah, I’ll bet some of you are wondering what the hell that means. It means I want the story to be one way and the story, well the story wants to be another way. I was a little surprised as well and no, I can’t write it the way I want because when I do, it feels inauthentic. If I feel that, I’m pretty sure that you will as well. 

See, the story wants to be one thing and I don’t like it. So, I guess, I’m refusing to write it down. Think of it like a five year old having a temper tantrum. That’s me. Only I’m having it in my head, with myself and I’m not quite sure how to but myself into a mental time-out. So here we are at an impass.

So what to do?

I guess one of us will have to be the adult and give in for the sake of getting it done. {heavy sigh}

Here’s my promise. I will tell Pam’s story the way it wants to be told. I won’t be happy about it, unless of course it’s amazing and everyone immediately loves it and tells me how awesomely awesome I (I mean it) is. 

Here’s what I need from you. I need the truth – even if I can’t handle the truth – I need it. Even, or especially, if it’s awful or worse than awful, boring. 

I’ll be posting more of the story later this weekend.

Thanks again for all your support and feedback. It helps enormously.

BMW

Rain

…and rain will make the flowers grow  ~ Eponine, “A Little Fall of Rain”

I love the smell of rain.

Especially summer rain.

It makes the world smell clean.

New.

Full of promise.

It’s the essence of love; the thrill of the first kiss. The hand on your hip as he leans in, gently, to taste your lips. It’s you, arching your back and holding your breath. Knowing its coming. Nervous and anxious and excited. Passion,

It’s the feeling you get when you meet the love of your life. It’s the look in his eyes when you say yes. It’s the overwhelming joy in your heart when you say “I Do.” Love.

It’s the first flutter of your growing baby. Not quite sure what you’re feeling. Was it? Could it be? Then again; and you’re sure. Hope.

It’s the swelling of your heart when you finally meet your child. The overwhelming love and the sheer terror of caring for another living being. Responsiblity.

It’s in the sunrise.

It’s in the storm clouds.

It’s in the rain.

It's in us all.

My terrible, awful, not very good week

Well, that seems like a bit of hyperbole since no one died and no one was maimed. However, my ego took a pretty good kick in the teeth. And since I have a wee bit of the drama queen in me, I decided the best course of action was to pout and then to write an entirely self-satisfying-stuart-smalleyesque blog about my own awesomeness.

I could rail about how unfair it is that I’m no longer featured on Patch but then I think about those poor Patch readers who are not on my facebook or blog and will have no idea how to find me. That makes me sad.

For them.

So, if you see them, send them to the blog. For their own sake. You’ll be doing a tremendous public service. Honest.

Then of course there is the writing contest that I failed to win. I know, right?! Outrageous! Hasn’t Pam gone through enough? To heap this disappointment on her. Who knows how she’ll cope!

I didn’t expect to win. After all, I’ve never written fiction before. But that didn’t make me feel any better when I lost. I was mad and hurt. How dare they not love me! Everyone loves me (and Pam).

Who do they think they are? Asshats!

I was on the verge of cancelling my account and deleting them when I thought, “Know who else didn’t get any appreciation from snotty writer types? Stephen King!”

Yeah, I’m a little deluded but I’ve long ago learned to live with that aspect of my personality.

Anyway, I’m still here. Still writing. Hopefully, my eleven non-related fans will continue to read and share. Share. And Share.

Who knows how the blog will shake out in the future? I may end up back at Patch or maybe I’ll finally get my big break and be able to write for the OCM (that’s some local humor). I’m definitely going to explore new opportunities.

Emma thinks I should start a tumblr.

I’m pretty sure I’m not cool enough for that.

Yet…

Girls Like Us: Senior Year

Girls Like Us: Chapter 1
Girls Like Us: Chapter 3

September

                I can hear the alarm buzzing but I can’t seem to make my hand follow the basic command I’m giving to hit the snooze button. Senior year can wait 9 more minutes for me to get going. I’m generally ambivalent about the first day of school but this year I can hate it. I hate the whole idea of having to drag myself through one hundred and seventy days of suck in order to get my diploma and get out. And there’s my nine minutes.

                Showering, I mentally run through my wardrobe and come up with nothing. Why didn’t I listen to Patrice when she told me I needed a new outfit for the first day of school? All my shorts are gross from work and it’s too warm still for jeans. I think I have the cute dress I wore when Ellie graduated. I think it’s in the back of my closet; hopefully it will still fit.

                Pulling clothes from my closet, I finally find the dress way down the back. It’s cute. It’s a two-toned tank dress with a white bodice and a navy blue skirt that flares slightly from the waist. Luckily, it fits great. I pull my hair into a messy bun and throw on some mascara and lip gloss. As an afterthought I add my favorite silver hoop earrings. I throw up a pair of flip-flops; glancing in the mirror I think maybe this day won’t be so bad after all.

Heading downstairs, I make it to the door just as Patrice pulls up. “Snap, snap girlie, I need an iced coffee and I don’t want to be late on the first day.”

“Relax, Patrice; I’m already here.” I climb into her jeep. Looking at her, I shake my head. “Damn Patrice do you even know the meaning of casual?” She is wearing capri length white jeans and a blue and white striped shirt with a boat neck. On her feet she has on black ballet flats. Her hair is growing out and today she is wearing it artfully messy. “You look amazing as always.” I tell her.

“You look pretty good yourself.” She says as we drive off. “Are you going to be all right? I know you haven’t seen Tommy since Fourth of July and I know Danielle and he are still together.”

Sighing “I have to be since I’m pretty sure school won’t take my breaking up with Tommy as an excused absence. Seriously, I don’t think Mrs. Williamson has ever had a date in her life; I’ll bet she was born old and married and wouldn’t understand what it’s like to be a young!”

“Do you want a coffee?”

“Iced Mocha Latte, please.”

Pulling up to school, my stomach heaves and I’m doing that not breathing thing again. “I can’t do this Patrice.”

“Of course you can, Pam. He’s just a boy. Don’t let him define how you are and how your senior year will be. As for her, well she’s just a girl and too bad for her she’s not a girl like us.”

I lean over and hug her. “What would I do without you?”

“You’d be lame! Meet me for lunch; we can compare schedules.”

Walking into homeroom is the hardest thing I think I’ve ever done. Ever since middle school, homeroom assignments have been determined based on your last name. I am a Bradford and ever since sixth grade I have shared my homeroom with Danielle Brody. Of course she’s already there. Seeing me she gets a little louder as she tells Lucy about how much fun she had all summer with Tommy. Everyone in the room looks at me. I resist the urge to punch her. “Glad you’re having fun with my sloppy seconds, Danielle. Tomorrow I’ll remember to bring in my mocha latte and you can suck out what’s left.” Turning on my heel I walk over and down as the teacher comes in.

“Brilliant” Patrice says as I tell her what I said to Danielle in homeroom. We find a small table and sit down. Before long the cafeteria is packed. People are stopping by and saying hi so we barely get to talk. Luckily, we have a study period together. Both classes will give us plenty of time to talk.

Looking around the cafeteria I see that they’re not here. Good. At least I’m spared that agony since I’m sure Danielle will make me pay for what I said in homeroom earlier.

I get up to go. “I’ll see you in Study.” Patrice just nods.

Walking to my locker, I feel things hitting my shoulders and back. I turn around and see Ryan. “Hey Pam. Where you headed?

“My locker. Are you throwing stuff at me?

“Absolutely not!” he replies taking on a wounded tone. “However, I did see what may have been an elf or perhaps a gnome here a second ago. Maybe it was throwing something.” He smiles showing one perfect dimple, his green eyes flashing with laughter.

“We should probably let Mrs. Williamson know that mythical creatures are roaming the halls assaulting students.”

“Excellent idea. Why don’t we go do that now.” He says as he hooks his arm through mine and starts walking down the hall toward the office.

I turn toward him, disengaging my arm “How about we tell her later? I wouldn’t want to be late for class”

Flashing his dimple again he says “Well, I’m going to be busy after class.”

“Busy doing what?” I can’t believe how shamelessly I’m flirting with him.

“Walking you to class.” He flashes that dimple again just slightly. Sheesh he has that thing trained perfectly. I’m mesmerized by it and him. He’s gorgeous. Tall, over six feet, with broad shoulders. He has blonde hair that looks like he combed it with a blender and the most gorgeous green eyes. I think I’ve already mentioned the dimple.

“Really?”

“Yup and since we have biology together I should probably walk you there as well. We should get going so we’re not late.”

“How do you know we have Bio together?

“I have my ways…” winding his arm thru mine again he turns me around and we head to class.

Driving home after school with Patrice, I can’t stop talking about how amazing Ryan is and reliving the moment when we walked into Biology. We’re both laughing when I see Tommy sitting with Liam. Tommy looks up and when he sees me arm-in-arm with Ryan and his mouth tightens and he turns away.

“The best part, Patrice, every time I caught Tommy looking over at us – which was a lot – he looked mad, like really mad; it was awesome!”

“Wonder what Danielle will do once she finds out you have a class together?”

“That will be epic! I wish I could see that.”

Patrice looks over and smiles. “Pammie girl I am so glad to see you smiling again. Next time I see Ryan, I might be tempted to give him a big nasty kiss.”

“He took my phone and added his number and told me to text him later. Should I?”

“Ah, duh. Now get out. I’ll call you later.”

Walking around the back of the house, I go to open the kitchen door when my phone starts playing a song and it’s loud!

“So get out, get out, get out of my head / And fall into my arms instead / I don't, I don't, don't know what it is / But I need that one thing  / And you've got that one thing”

It’s so loud that it startles me and I almost drop it. Looking down, I see it’s Ryan. I answer it immediately.

“Really Ryan? One Direction? What are we in middle school?” I say laughing.

“Did it make you smile?”

“Yes but it almost made me drop my phone since it was so LOUD!”

“What time do you want me to pick you up later?” He asks.

“Hmmm, I didn’t know we had a later planned?” Wow, when did I become such a flirt?

“We, well I, have a lot of laters planned. Can I pick you up at 7?

“Not tonight. How about Friday? I don’t like to go out on school nights besides my mom’s a freak about having family dinners together whenever possible.”

“You’re killing me here, Pam! Text me later; practice starts in a few and I won’t have my phone on me.”

“OK. Talk to you later.” I walk into the kitchen smiling.

Harry, who is sitting at the kitchen table asks “Who’s Ryan?” and makes an annoying smooching noise. I swat at him.

“That’s your business how, Pestepher?”

“Oh, it’s my business since I had to listen to, ‘Oh, Ryan mwah mwah mwah… I wuv u…’” shuddering he continues “So, gross. I think I have to go bleach my brain. Later, Spamella.”

Harry leaves the kitchen and I smile; I really love my younger brother. He’s pretty awesome and totally hilarious. I’ll be lucky if I ever hear the end of this.

I hear mom before I see her since she is always glued to her phone. “Let me call you back, Kathy, Pam’s just getting in from school.”

“Hi honey, how was the first day? Everything OK with, well you know”

Smiling, I nod “Everything was ok, homeroom was a little tense because of Danielle, but I managed to get through it. I have Biology with Tommy and Liam but I was rescued by a soccer star.” I went on to relate how Ryan found me in the hallway and walked me to Biology and sat with me making.

“Hmmm, be careful. Teenage boys aren’t known for their thoughtfulness, especially around pretty girls. I’m glad you’re first day went well; dinner’s at six.” She says as she walks out to her car. I could hear her talking to Kathy again as she drives away.

Quiet finally. I grab a drink and a snack and sit at the table. I pull out my school agenda and start organizing my homework. I spend a lot of time organizing which is strange since I spend so little time actually doing it. I set out to do my homework I just always seem to get distracted. It drives my parents a little nuts since I would be a straight A student, like Ellie as I’m constantly reminded, if I took my homework a little more serious. This year will be different. Ha! I say that every year; I love that I constantly lie to myself. Even better, I love that I still believe myself.

The rest of the school week passed uneventfully. Danielle was still giving me dirty looks and talking about her relationship with Tommy every time I was within shouting distance. Ryan continued to walk me to Biology and flirt outrageously with me. Tommy continued to look a little irritated about it. I was excited because Ryan and I were finally going to go on our first date. I was so nervous that I went shopping with Patrice to buy something new.

Making sure I had plenty of time to get ready, I had already dried and straightened my hair and I was applying my makeup when Patrice texted me.

“Have fun but be careful, Ryan has a rep as a dog.”

“It will be fine Patrice it’s only the first date. I’m not marrying him. I don’t even know if I’m going to kiss him. OK, that’s a lie I’m definitely going to kiss him if I get the chance.” I text back.

“Just be careful, that’s all. It’s your first date in a long time and not all guys are like Tommy.”

“Seriously, Patrice, I’ll be fine. I give you all the gory details later. Promise.”

“K, have fun.”

I finish my makeup and get dressed. I bought a cute red skirt with white polka dots that’s a little tighter and shorter than I usually wear. I’ve paired it with a flowy white shirt. I’m not sure if I should wear white Keds or a pair of black ballet flats. Comfort or style? I hear the bell and realize that Ryan is here to pick me up. I opt for comfort and quickly pull my Keds on.

I run downstairs thankful that no one else is home so I won’t have to deal with the awkward family stuff. I open the door and Ryan is leaning casually leaning on the railing, waiting.

“Hi.” I manage to say as I look at him

“Wow, you look great!” He says as he pushes off the railing and takes my hand. “Ready?”

“Let me grab a sweater and my bag and I’m all yours.”

Ryan opens the door to what appears to be a brand new Mustang convertible. Great. Two hours on my hair for nothing I think as I slide into the passenger seat. “Beautiful car.”

“Thanks. It was my birthday present from my Dad. I love parental guilt. Dad’s been trying to buy my love and forgiveness ever since he left my mom. Hope you’re hungry, I didn’t have time to eat after practice and I’m starving.”

“Yes, I’m hungry. Where do you want to go?”

“Let’s get Italian.”

At dinner, Ryan amuses himself with trying to toss cherry tomatoes in my mouth. Either my mouth is too small or his aim is awful. “Good thing you play a sport that uses your feet.” I joke.

“No kidding. Dad always wanted me to be a pitcher but it wasn’t my position. I don’t even like baseball; it’s boring. What about you, what’s your sport?”

“Not falling down.” I laugh. “Seriously, I have no athletic ability. None. I tried a few things, soccer, softball, even dance but I couldn’t find anything I was good at so I stopped looking.”

“I’ve never seen you fall down.” Ryan teases and flashes his dimple. “At least I’m pretty sure that’s something I would have remembered.”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve fallen down in public. I have spent many years perfecting my coordination and I’m happy to say, I have the coordination of a third or fourth grader.” I tease back.

“Good to know. I’ll be sure to keep you from any uneven pavement or rocky terrain for the rest of the evening.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I wore my Converse so bring on the uneven pavement. Not sure but I think the rocky terrain may prove challenging.”

“Thankfully, I don’t have any hiking planned for the evening. Ready to go?”

“Let me just run to the ladies room and then I’m all set.”

“How can you use the ladies room, you’re all alone?”

“Hah. Don’t be a brat.”

I grab my bag and head for the ladies room. I can’t wait to text Patrice and tell her how great tonight is going. She doesn’t reply immediately which means she is preoccupied. I finish up and head out to meet Ryan.

“How about going for a ride?” Ryan says as he takes my arm.

“That would be awesome.” I loop my arm in his and we head for the car.

Driving in Ryan’s car with the top down was bliss. I didn’t even care what it was doing to my hair. It was a warm night and I wasn’t really paying attention to where he was driving. We had been driving about 15 minutes when I finally asked where we were heading.

“Just driving. We can turn around up ahead and head back to town. I thought it would be nice to have a fire at my place.”

“That sounds wonderful. I’m am getting a little cold. Where do you live?”

“Over by Liam. We’re practically neighbors.”

“Oh, nice. Are you on the water too?”

“Yup. I live two houses up from Liam.”

It doesn’t take long to get to Ryan’s and he gets the fire started pretty quickly. His patio is gorgeous. There was a full stone fireplace and comfortable seats scattered around the whole patio. I could hear the waves from where we were sitting.

He turns from the fire and asks “Would you like something to drink?”

“I’d love a Pepsi, if you have one.”

“That all?”

“Yes, I don’t really like to drink.” Laughing, I add, “It makes me clumsy.”

“Well, in that case, I can certainly understand your reluctance to drink.” Flashing his dimple he walks over to the outdoor refrigerator and grabs me a drink. Sitting next to me, he hands me my drink. Leaning over, he casually drapes his arm around my shoulders asking “Are you warm enough? I can get you a sweatshirt.”

Snuggling in a little closer to him I reply “No, I think I’m ok. Thanks.”

Ryan looks down at me and leans in slowly. His kiss is gentle and soft and I kiss him back. It quickly intensifies as he slips his arms around me. Before I realize what’s happening I’m lying beneath him and his hands are roaming every part of my body.

“STOP?!” I yell as I break the kiss. I’m frantically trying to sit up.

“What’s the problem?” he asks. “It’s not like you’ve never had sex before.”

Incredulously I look at him and say “What the hell is wrong with you? I’ve never had sex with you and I’m never going to!”

“Really Pam, never? I could have any girl I want and I chose you. You could show a little more gratitude.”

I’m so mad I’m practically spitting as I say “Are you for real? You “chose” me. Like I should be thankful or something that you noticed me?”

“Yeah, something like that.” He replies.

I finally manage to stand up and gather my things. “I want to go home.”

“Good luck with that. I’m comfortable and I don’t really feel like driving at the moment.”

“Seriously? You’re not going to drive me home?”

“Seriously. I’m not going to drive you home. See you in Biology Monday.” He says as he walks into the house; shutting the outdoor lights off as he locks the patio door.

Standing in the semi-dark of the patio, I go to grab my phone and text Patrice but can’t quite bring myself to get her to bail me out. Again. Pulling myself together, I walk around to the front and head for the road. I walk past his car and have to resist the urge to gouge it with my keys. Screw it; I take my keys out and gouge a line right down the driver’s side of the car. Then for good measure I walk back to the front gouging it again. It makes me feel a little better knowing how pissed he’ll be when he sees it.

Walking down the street away from Ryan’s I’m thankful that I decided to wear my Converse and not my ballet flats. The weather has changed and the wind is coming off the water and it’s getting cold. Not to mention that I have at least four miles to walk to get home. What the hell was wrong with me? I should have known that it was too good to be true. Why would Ryan want to go out with me? I’ve had one real relationship with the nicest guy in the world and I even manage to screw that up. Honestly, I’m a mess.

Walking on the side of the road, I’ve gone about a mile when I step wrong and lose my footing. I fall, scraping one knee and slightly rolling my ankle. Perfect! I sit back and start to cry. I’ll never make it home on my own. Jesus, I need to get a grip. it’s only a few more miles. I’m pretty sure that I just passed the entrance to Liam’s a few minutes ago.

As I limp down the road, I tell myself I can do this. It’s easy. Besides Ryan will not be the person to beat me. Monday is going to be ridiculous. I shake off that thought. I just need to get home. That’s my only goal. Then I feel the first drop. Then the second. PERFECT! It’s raining. Gah, I hate my life! I put my head down and keep limping.

I walked about another half mile. I’m soaked. My ankle hurts and I have blood running down my leg. My skirt is riding up and my pretty white shirt is plastered to me. I hear a car coming from behind me. They’ll just have to go around me. I cringe as the car comes closer. I’d know that sound anywhere. Crap, it’s Tommy. PERFECT! I’ll bet the Danielle is with him.

Tommy’s truck drives passed me and slows to a stop. He gets out and I can hear Danielle yelling at him to mind his business and get back in the truck. Tommy ignores her. “Pam? Is that you?”

Rolling my eyes, I answer him “Yes, Tommy, it’s me.”

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing, I’m out for a walk.”

“Really Pam?”

“Really Tommy.”

By this time Danielle has rolled down the window and is yelling for Tommy to get back in the truck. Tommy continues to ignore her.

“Let me drive you home.”

“NO” Danielle screams from the truck.

“Seems like your girlfriend isn’t too fond of your idea.”

“It’s my truck Pam and I’ll drive whomever I want. Are you going to tell me what happened?”

“I’m an idiot; that’s what happened. I thought Ryan was a good guy and when I wouldn’t have sex with him, he told me to leave and refused to drive me home. So here I am. Wet, bloody, and miserable and having to have you and her” I gesture with my head toward the truck “witness my humiliation. Honestly, Tommy, the last thing I want to do is get in that truck with the two of you.”

“Tell you what.” Tommy starts “Let me drive Danielle home and I’ll come back and get you, OK?”

“Sure. That sounds great.”

“I’ll be back in ten minutes. Probably less.”

“K. Thanks Tommy.”

Tommy walks back to his truck and Danielle is already yelling at him. “We were going to stop before you took me home. I can’t believe you’re going to take me home early so you can come back for HER.”

For the first time since I found out they were dating, I felt really bad for Tommy. I watch them drive off and resume walking. My ankle still hurts but resting actually seems to have helped it a bit. I’m only a few blocks from home when Tommy finally catches up with me.

“Hey, I told you to wait that I’d be back to get you.”

“Yeah but I’m almost home so no big deal. Thanks for the offer.”

“Get in I’ll take you the rest of the way.”

“I’m good, thanks. I’ll see you at school Monday.”

Tommy watches me walk away. After a few minutes I hear him drive away. Reaching home all I want to do is have a scalding hot shower and go to sleep. I open the front door and Ellie and Louis are in the family room watching a movie.

“Pam, what happened? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine Ellie, I just need a shower and go to bed.”

“Pam...”

“Really Ellie, I’m fine. I don’t want to talk about it. OK?”

After my shower I climb in bed grabbing my stuffed elephant, Kevin, for comfort. I wonder if maybe I can convince my parents to let me transfer to an all girls’ school in Switzerland. How much could that cost? At least I have all weekend to worry about what the hell is going to happen in school on Monday.

I can’t sleep and find myself wide awake in the early morning; it’s still gray but the rain seems to have stopped. Pushing myself out of bed I head out for a bike ride to see if I can’t get out of my own head. Riding around town, it’s so quiet and peaceful. I take the long way around but eventually end up at the beach.

I’m lying in the sand, eyes closed, listening as the wave’s crash against the rocks. I shiver against the early September chill, snuggling into my sweatshirt for warmth. A shadow crosses my face and I open my eyes, looking up I see Tommy.

I reclose my eyes, “How did you know where to find me?”

“I texted you a few times when you didn’t answer I thought you were either ignoring me or were here.”

“Sorry that you and Danielle fought about me last night.”

“It would have been something else Pam so don’t sweat it. But it doesn’t matter since we broke up. She was pretty furious when she found out I was serious about going back to get you. She said some things that were really unforgivable. So I told her we were finished.”

“Oh. Sorry for causing you so much misery.”

Tommy sits down next to me. He reaches out to take my hand but doesn’t “Pammy, I miss you and I have for months.”

 “Ditto.” Is all I can manage before I start to cry.

Tommy leans over and kisses me on the cheek. “Can we try this again?” 

Nodding my head I lean over and kiss him. He kisses me back and wraps his arms around me.

It feels so good to be back in his arms. It’s where I belong.

Girls Like Us: Chapter 1
Girls Like Us: Chapter 3