Chapter 2 - A Good Impression

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Ren

MAY 1994

Finally! 

The bell rings, and the big blue metal doors to all the classrooms burst open into the outdoor quad, and the kids flood out in all directions. My oldest girlfriend, Aalya, and I exit our eighth-grade math class and go straight down the wooden stairs to our usual orange picnic table to meet up with Alexis and Kristin. After two years of feeling insecure at junior high school, socially at least, things seem to be falling into place.

The year has sped by fast, and I feel a momentum growing as summer is almost within reach. At fourteen, the bigger world of being a teenager seemed to be opening up to me—late nights with my friends, music, concerts, and boys. They seem to be all I can think about lately.

Aalya flips her hair over her shoulder. "Ren, you still coming over to my house after school?" 

"Yeah, I can't wait."

Aayla has coppery brown skin, cute freckles, mischievous brown eyes, and braided hair. Her mom is a 60s hippy (as many of our parents are), and her dad is a Reggae musician. A social butterfly by nature, she exudes this ultra-cool and fun vibe without even trying. Man, I wish I had that! I seem to naturally exude a shy, nice girl vibe. I am determined to be less shy and more fun and outgoing from now on.

On the way, we eye the 'popular' sporty girls hanging out on the upper level by the lockers with their bum equipment sweatshirts, white Nike shoes, and hair sprayed over in a fan. We don't dress or act like them; our group is edgier and cool—into the new Alternative music instead of Pop or R&B. 

And as such—in typical middle school convention of dressing exactly or even hyper on trend, we are the epitome of grunge this year. My long brown hair is parted in the middle and stick straight. We wear ripped oversized light wash jeans with holes in the knees, converse, and band t-shirts with flannels tied around our waists. Flannel is a must right now—you kinda just have to have one. 

Alexis and Kristin are already at our table, being sad together that the musical is over. We just finished our first big musical production with both the seventh and eighth-grade students. My heart sinks a little at the reminder.

"I miss spending every Thursday and Friday after school with you guys," Kristin pouts. "My parents have put me back on my strict schedule of studying and Spanish tutoring. Life sucks again."

"Sneak out and come hang out at my house. I'm just babysitting my neighbor's kid," Alexis says as she digs around in her bag for her lunch. "Mama's working till two in the bar again tonight."

Kristin huffs. "No, Dad practically put video surveillance in my room last time I did that. But call me tonight, okay?"

"At least you two live in town and can sneak out and get to someone you know's house." Aalya sighs. Both Aalya and I live in the country on the outskirts of town but miles apart. I have always hated that I can't ride my bike to anyone I know. "Anyway," she continues. "I think drama is an elective in high school. We should all sign up for the same electives together! Deal?"

"Yes," we all agree. And do our best friends forever four-person pinky swear.

I'm starting to really like drama, but that's not why I'm sad the musical is over, either. I was just beginning to get the attention of boys for the very first time. The guys in my grade have known me since I was like five—and me them. We are old news to each other. 

This was my first opportunity to spend long hours in rehearsal, getting to know a lot of new boys from the grade below us.  And the attention I was getting was not just looks, like it had been last year, but full-on flirting, and with the confidence of being older,  I was loving to learn to flirt back.

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