Okay, really the only reason I'm posting this is because I'm about to leave and I won't have to be here when you all read it, if you do. Lol. I decided to get ahead on my narrative writing class for next semester, and this is my first attempt in quite some time. It's not my usual style, so if you think you have ideas to improve it before I turn it in to 25 of my peers in the fall, let me know. And now that I have my "More" working, that's where it's at. <.g>
Girl Next Door
I look in the mirror, turn sideways, suck in my stomach. Wish that my chest was a little fuller. I turn and face my reflection. I pull in my cheeks a little, like a fish, to give them definition. I read it in a magazine, once, that high cheekbones are beautiful. Julia, my seventeen-year-old sister, taught me how to put on blush to make my cheekbones show up. I still look twelve, I think.
But I’m not. I’m thirteen today. This morning I got up early and washed my hair and curled it. I’m wearing a straight navy skirt and a powder blue sleeveless sweater and I have a ribbon tied in my hair, like a headband. I twirl in the mirror, sing, “Venus, if you do, I promise that I always will be true” along with Frankie Avalon. I bought the record yesterday as an early birthday present to myself with babysitting money. I figured I should have something nice to listen to on the morning of my entrance into the teenage world. I glance out my window. I think that maybe I’ll see him today. I think he’s home, now.
I am the girl next door, and that’s what’s funny about the whole thing. Before I leave my room, I stand on my tiptoes in the doorway of my closet and reach up for the box. I set it on my bed and pull out the mess of magazine clippings. For luck, I think. My heart beats a bit faster as I look at his face, chiseled and smooth, even in black and white. I know his eyes are blue and sparkling, know it from hours of watching him at the movies. I saw his last film seven times, sat in the back row by myself, grinning through it all.
Today, it is my birthday. I am no longer a child, but a teenager. I have lived next door to Chase Mattson since I was six and his parents separated. He moved from California, with his mom. He’s lived in that house for more than half my life, now. He is eighteen, a year older than Julia. In the movies, though, he is more my age. Maybe fifteen or sixteen.
We live in Wisconsin, so when he’s doing movies, he’s gone for a while. Out to California where his dad lives. But he always comes back to Wisconsin when he’s finished. He’s only been in three films, but the last one made him famous. He started out doing commercials. He brought me to the set, once, when I was nine. He asked Julia if she wanted to go, but she said no, and I piped up and said yes. He didn’t object.
When he’s out in California doing movies, I go through my pictures, to remind myself. Someday I will be Mrs. Eleanor Mattson.
“Nora! Come have breakfast!” Mom’s sweet voice floats up the stairs to me. I quickly replace the lid to my box and slide it back onto the top shelf, behind the pair of shoes with high heels I got to wear to church last Christmas. They hurt my feet.
I skip down the stairs and make my grand entrance.
“What’s on your face?” Julia asks, already at the table. She looks perfect. It’s summer and she’s going to the bay, probably. That’s what she does on summer days.
I stick out my tongue at her. “I did my make-up like you taught me to,” I say.
“I’ll fix it after breakfast.” She looks me up and down and nods. I guess she’s satisfied with the rest of me.
“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” Mom says, kissing me on the cheek and putting a plate of pancakes in front of me. There are chocolate chips sprinkled on top, my favorite.
I open my presents at the table. I get a book from Mom and Dad, beautifully bound with pages that are uneven at the edges and a satin ribbon that ties to keep it closed. Young women keep journals, Mom tells me, so this is for me to keep track of my journey into adulthood. Julia gives me a new clip for my hair, the grown-up kind that makes you look sophisticated, and three new shades of nail polish. Two for summer – Rose Blush and Tangerine Spice, and one for when it gets cold – Raspberry Wine.
After breakfast, after Julia fixes my blush so that I don’t look like a clown or a prostitute, I sit on the front steps. The day is pretty, but hot. Julia does go to the bay with her friends, and I wish I could go with. Instead, I feel the summer heat move around me, lift my hair and make it tickle my nose.
Ronnie, my best friend, sees me out her window. She runs across the street, her freckled cheeks starting to get tanned from the sun, even though she’s a redhead and by all standards should burn, not tan. She has something for me, a little box. It’s wrapped, pretty. “Happy birthday, Nora!” she says, sitting next to me. “For your big day.” She hands me the box. She knows my plan.
I open it and my smile widens into a grin. It’s a beautiful necklace, gold, with a little pearl nestled in the center. “Where did you get it?” I ask, touching it gently.
“My mom helped me pick it out. You only turn thirteen once. Want me to help you put it on?” I nod and she takes it out of the box and slips it around my neck. I’m so glad Ronnie is my best friend. We spend most of the day sitting on my front steps, talking. Mom brings out lemonades, and after lunch we walk to the corner store to get some candy and a few firecrackers, which we light on the sidewalk.
Julia comes home for the picnic we have every year. Teddy, her boyfriend, is with her. Today is July the fourth, did I mention that? I was born on Uncle Sam’s birthday. That’s part of the reason I am named Eleanor, I think. Everyone in the neighborhood will squish into our backyard to eat hot dogs and burgers Dad grills on his new Weber, and then we’ll climb onto our roof and the Mattsons’ and the Westerbergers’ to watch the fireworks that get set off over the bay.
I haven’t seen Chase all day, but I know he came home from California two weeks ago. I saw his Buick, weighted down in back with his things, pull into his driveway. I haven’t seen him much since then, though. Maybe he’s been busy doing interviews with the Chronicle or photo shoots or maybe even a new commercial.
My heart speeds up so much that I have to press my hand to my chest to keep it inside when I see him through his window. Just then, Dad calls to me, “Nora, hand me the flipper-thing, will you?” I pull my gaze painfully from the window and trudge across the lawn to hand him his utensil. The Johnsons have arrived, and Nicky and Drew are toddling over to me. I sigh, throw one last glace over my shoulder, and tell myself he will be here later. I give the boys, twin angels, even at two-and-a-half, each hugs.
By seven thirty, almost everyone has arrived. Dad is still at the grill, even though most everyone’s plate is already in the sink being washed by Mom and Mrs. Sanders. Chase hasn’t come out, though. I hope his newfound fame has not made him shy.
I occupy my mind by playing Hide and Seek with the kids. Ronnie plays, too. Julia and Teddy sit with some of the older kids, their legs dangling off the back porch. Someday I will be allowed to sit with them, instead of assigned to be the entertainer and babysitter for the neighborhood’s under-tens.
My heart sinks deeper and deeper into my chest as the sun dips lower into the sky. Today I am thirteen, and today is my Big Day. Today is the day I will get Chase Mattson to ask me to be his steady girlfriend. But in order for that to happen, he needs to come over. I stomp my foot in frustration, but Nicky Johnson thinks it’s part of the game and stomps his, too. He dissolves into giggles, then comes and rests his cheek against my knee. I pet his soft baby hair for a minute, before his energy returns and he takes off after his brother again. I reach out instinctively as Nicky trips and pitches forward into the grass, but he is standing and off running again like nothing happened.
I’m sitting on the porch, too, but not near where the older kids are. I put my elbow on my knee, and let my cheek rest on my hand. My stomach feels full of lead, heavy with disappointment. It’s almost completely dark, now, and the fireworks will start soon. In a few minutes, everyone will make their way onto the flat roofs of houses, climbing ladders or out of windows. Chase has not made an appearance yet.
Something catches my eye to my left, and I see Julia and her friend Samantha. They’re talking to someone. Samantha is giggling and Julia is giving her The Look. Then Julia moves a little and I see that it is Chase they are talking to. I sit up straighter, my breath catching in the back of my throat. I catch Ronnie’s eye. She is across the yard, weighted down by half a dozen kids climbing on her back and pulling on her legs and twisting their fingers through her hair. She gives me a thumbs-up and a grin, nodding her head in the direction of Chase and Julia, before grabbing one of the kids to tackle.
There goes my heart again, and my stomach is twisting into all kinds of pretzel-y shapes. My fingers feel tingly and my mouth is cottony-dry. Someone says my name to my right, and I turn. Mom is asking if I want a Coca Cola to take onto the roof with me. I shake my head and look back to where Julia and Chase are, but they are gone. I see Julia rejoining her friends. They are going to sit on our roof.
“Hey, kid, happy birthday.” I jump a little and turn, and Chase is sitting next to me. His voice is like silk and his eyes are shining more brightly than the stars in the sky, I think. He looks even better in person than he does on the screen, that’s for sure.
I smile shakily. Somehow, the fact that he is in the movies makes me more trembly around him. I have always known I will marry him, but that adds a little bit of excitement to it all. To marry a movie star is every girl’s dream, and for me, I believe it is possible. I am the girl next door, after all.
“Thanks,” I whisper. My backyard is emptying out. It’s getting to be that time. I see Ronnie wink at me as she follows her brother towards my roof. It is a wink of encouragement, of good luck, and to tell me that I am lucky. Chase has only ever talked to Ronnie when she is with me.
“How does it feel to be thirteen?” he asks.
“Fine,” I tell him. There is so much I want to say. I want to show him that now I am almost a woman. I will be going to high school in a year, and I wish with all my heart that it would be this September, instead of next.
He smiles, and I have to close my eyes. It’s just like in the magazine, but it is for me.
“You’re going to miss the fireworks,” he says, looking at the sky where the first ones have started. Everyone knows the best ones are at the end – they light up the whole sky and fill your ears with their loudness – but the whole show is always spectacular. I am willing to give it up, this year, in order to sit here on my back porch with Chase Mattson.
I shrug. “It’s okay. I’ve seen ‘em before.”
“Yeah, but this year, there’s a special one. I helped the guy pick them out.” He nudges my shoulder with his, still smiling down at me. “You don’t want to miss it.”
I nod. I can’t miss the fireworks if he helped. That’s probably what he’s been doing these two weeks he’s been home. I start to stand, and he takes my hand in his. I feel myself shaking a little, and I want to stop but I have no control in the matter.
“Happy birthday, kid,” he says. I wish he would stop calling me ‘kid’. Yesterday I was a kid. Today, my age ends with the same word his does – teen. He’s called me that since I was six and he was eleven, though.
His eyes are so pretty, peering out through long dark lashes. I don’t have time to register what is happening, even though everything is moving in slow motion. Chase is leaning in towards me, a small smile on his pink lips. He presses a kiss to the corner of my mouth, soft and quick, and winks at me when I finally get my eyes to open. Every inch of my body is electric. “Now get up there before you miss the show.” He gestures to my roof, where Ronnie and her family are sitting with my family and the Halloways. I don’t say anything, but head for the ladder. I’m not sure I can make it up on wobbly knees and sweaty palms. He turns and jogs towards his own house, his own roof, and my heart sinks. If only I could watch his fireworks display with him by my side.
When I get onto the roof, Ronnie is grinning with all her might. I can tell she’s having a hard time containing her excitement. She saw it all. She grabs my hand and lets out a little squeak that gets lost in the boom from the sky. I notice that I have a silly smile on my face, and I can’t get it to go away. Even though I am disappointed that Chase Mattson didn’t ask me to join him on his roof, didn’t ask me to go to the A&W tomorrow for a root beer float, didn’t ask for my hand in marriage, even though my thirteenth birthday didn’t go exactly how I had planned, my chest can’t contain the happiness I feel at this moment. I can still feel his lips on mine, the soft puff of breath from his nose on my cheek, his fingers curled around my hand.
I see Julia giggling with Samantha. They are looking at me, and then across the gap between the houses to Chase. He is completely wrapped up in the fireworks display, I can tell. In the quiet between two explosions, I hear Julia say “—asked him to. It’s her birthday, you know.” I don’t want to know what she means, so I let the deafening crack from the next firework take away the words. Nothing can ruin my day.
There is one special firework, right at the very end. As the smoke is being swept away by the breeze, it explodes twice as bright and three times as loud as all the others, and the circumference of it seems to take up the whole sky. It is red and white and blue, all in one, and I look to see Chase smiling at the sky. I smile, too.
