The Right Time (Together-Part 1)(Completed)

Prologue

Zosia

Death affects different people in different ways. Some people are able to get over it and move on, others not as much. Me, it's been a month and I have been inconsolable. My father died unexpectedly in a car accident. We buried him the week before last week, but I can't move on. My mom tried to send me to school about the middle of last week, but she had to come and pick me up after about two hours because I started crying and couldn't stop. So everyday my best friend and next door neighbor Dorien comes over and helps me with my homework. He really just does my homework for me and I copy it and he turns it in for me. I overheard my mother tell my grandmother over the phone that he's the only person that I can stand to have around me. It's true. He doesn't expect anything from me, he's just there. When I cry, he holds me and rubs my back. He doesn't get upset with me, he doesn't want me to smile and "Cheer up" He's just there.

Dorien and I have been inseparable since I was two years old and he was three. We moved in the house next door to his family. Their family came over to welcome us to the neighborhood and brought Dorien with them. He walked over to me and took my hand, and we have been inseparable ever since. Even though he is a year older than me, he was always there for me and wouldn't hang out with his friends unless they allowed me to play also. As we got older, he would make sure that I was included in everything that he did. I told him that I could hang out with my other friends if he wanted to do something with his friends without me. He always refused. We even spent almost every night together too, until about two months ago when my father decided that we were too old to sleep in a bed together without things happening. He made Dorien sleep in the room across the hall from me when he stayed over. We always tried to sneak into the others room, but my father always caught us. I remember thinking at the time that he never sleeps.

But at the age of thirteen, Dorien is bigger than most kids his age. He was almost as tall as my father, and my father was tall and big. He is already the same height as his father and more muscular than him, so my father had also made the joke that he would smash me in my sleep. His father once made the joke to his mother that he needed to look at the mailman because Dorien could not be his. He is still apologizing for that one. His mother would not speak to him for a week after that. Not that his father could deny that Dorien was his. Dorien was a junior albeit larger version of his father. They had the same blond hair, blue eyes, thick lips and they even have the same nose. He was always getting hit on by high school girls until they found out that he's just thirteen years old. They always tell him to call them in five years. The only body part that resembles his mother is his ears. I always thought that was a strange thing to get from his mother. Oh, he did get her temperament. Both of them are very easy going until you make them mad, and then watch out!

I, on the other hand at twelve years old, only come up mid chest to Dorien. I have green eyes and the weirdest color of dark maroon hair that I just don't understand. I have my father's eyes and a mixture of my mother and father's hair I guess. My father was Scottish with bright red hair and green eyes. He was six feet four inches and very muscular. My mother on the other hand is a mixture of African American and American Indian. She has brown eyes and straight black hair. She is five foot four and all of her features are very dainty. I am a mixture of the both of them; I guess that's where I get my maroon hair from. It is curly (I don't know how that happened either) and hangs down to my waist. I wear it in a braid most of the time. When I get mad at my mother, I always threaten to cut it off, because I know that it pushes her buttons. I figured it out when I was four years old. I am waiting for her to threaten to lock me in a closet or something. That is probably when I will stop threatening her like that.

I am in my room, in the bed crying softly quietly wondering who is going to take care of me now. My daddy was everything to me. He told me that he would always love me and be there for me. Who is going to take care of me and be there for me now? With that thought, I cry harder. I overhear my mother outside of the door whispering to Ms. Sherri (Dorien's Mother) that she doesn't know what to do for me to make it better. I know my mom is hurting just as much if not more than I am, but she is trying to be strong for me. All of a sudden, I hear a commotion outside. My mother says, "Dorien, you can't go in there!" (My father had also banned him from my room during the daytime). He didn't say anything; he just moved past our mothers, closed the door in their faces and came in the room. He lay down in the bed with me and held me. Then he answered the question I had asked myself many times since my father died. "Don't worry Zose, I will take care of you now. You don't have to worry anymore."

From that moment forward, I stopped crying and rejoined life. I love that boy with all my heart and someday I am going to marry him.

Dorien

It hurt so much seeing my Zose so upset. She has been crying for three weeks straight. Even when I was doing her homework, she was sniffling. They won't let me near her except to do homework. I know exactly how she is feeling and I want to fix it. They keep telling me that I will only make it worse, but they don't see that I am the only one who seems to make her feel better. She has lost her security with her dad gone. She needs to know who is going to take care of her now. I want to let her know that I will always take care of her, but after we finish homework and they let us look at television together for an hour during that time I am holding her and rubbing her back, they make me go home. I have never spent this much time away from her since the day I grabbed her hand when I was three years old.

I remember that day like it was yesterday. People tell you that you can't remember things from when you are that young, but I do. I remember my mom and dad taking me over to the new neighbor's house. That was what they kept calling them until we found out their names. We walked in the house and I saw this little bitty girl sitting in this giant man's lap with a giant smile on her face as she looked at him. When my parents introduced themselves and Zose's mom invited us into the house, he kissed her forehead, put her down and went to shake my mom and dad's hands. She stood there for a second looking kind of lost, which is when I went over and grabbed her hand. I really haven't let go since in a way. I wouldn't do anything without Zosia. My friends all make fun of me because I make them involve her in everything, even though she tells me that I don't have to. I know I don't have to, for some reason I just need to have her around me all of the time. It hurt so much when I started middle school and she couldn't go with me. I had to adjust not having her with me most of the day. But Zose, being the caring person that she is, blinked those big emerald green eyes at me and told me not to worry about her and just have fun. Every day when she got home from school that year, we told each other how our days went, did our homework, ate dinner, hung out a little bit and went to bed. I spent most nights with her, because I can't stand to be without her. It has been that way since I was three years old.

A couple of months ago, her father stopped us from sleeping in the same bed. He said that we were at the age when something would happen if we would continue to share a bed. I knew what he was talking about, but I played dumb. Zosia, on the other hand didn't know what he was talking about and kept asking questions. Her father finally turned red in the face and told her that she needed to ask her mother what he was talking about. Zose did and her mother told her that she wasn't ready for that conversation yet. They put me in the bedroom across the hall from her so we could still be close without being in the same bed. We tried to sneak into each other's room a few times, but her father always caught us. I remember thinking at the time that he never sleeps.

Finally, I have had enough. I am listening to Ms. Pam (Zosia's mother) telling my mom how Zosia only seems to be calm around me and she doesn't know what she can do for her to make her feel better. I get up and move past them to go into her room. My mom and Ms. Pam tell me that I can't go in there. I don't say anything; I just go in the room, shut the door in their faces and lock it. While they are banging on the door demanding that I open it, I lay with Zose on the bed and pull her to me. While I am holding her, I tell her that she doesn't have to worry any more, I am here and I will take care of her. Immediately, she stops crying and just snuggles into me. After a while, I hear her breathing even out and I just close my eyes and sleep with her. We wake up a couple of hours later and she looks so much better. I talk her into getting cleaned up and going for a walk. Both of our mothers are stunned when she comes out ready to go outside. They asked me what I said to her. I told them that it is just between her and me. I will keep my word to her if it is the last thing I do. I love that girl with all my heart and I am going to marry her one day.