Skipper's Heartbeat (PRN)

four

My fingers slip into my hair and carefully scratch at my tight scalp. "It's Monday so that means he's coming early, but I don't know what to wear."

"So you call me at 5:30 in the morning?" Lindsey whimpers into the phone. "I just don't understand why I have to wake up in the morning to help you find an outfit unless you like him and you haven't told me because in that case I guess I should help because this can be your future husband but at the same time he just turned seventeen and he is a junior that means he's going to graduate and then you'll be lonely and we'll be sad. I say we because you'll be sad that you lost your boyfriend but I'll be sad because you're sad but then–"

"Lindsey, you're doing it again." I sigh, looking through my closet. The phone stretches, from beside my bed all the way to the where I am standing at the closet. My eyes soar through my clothes. "I just need the right outfit. Do me this solid, please. " I gnaw on the skin that covers my bottom lip.

After Saturday, I have to admit that I am pretty thrilled to see Prince. He isn't a regular Bingham High boy and it pulls me in. I don't like him like that yet. I am just stuck on trying to out-do my look from two days ago. I have a couple of hours. He usually gets here fifteen minutes before my mother leaves for work. Our schedule was is him being here from nine to one on Monday and Thursday. Tuesday and Friday, he is here five to eight. On Wednesday, he is here two to midnight.

Lindsey sighs heavily into the phone, it is evident that she is tired but I need her help. "I can't believe you..." Her attitude exits through her one last exhale. Pep kicks in her voice, "Alright what about that orange go-go dress you have with the white polka dots?"

"No..." I push through the racks of clothes. I quietly scream to myself. I can't wake up my mother or let her know I'm up. Something like this would lead to way too many questions. "Hey, how about my white jumpsuit with the shoulders sticking out?"

"The short one with the pink butter flies up and down the leg?" I hum into the phone, letting her know that's the one. "That's cute but what about your hair?" My vision shoots to the nearest mirror at my vanity. My scarf covers my head but underneath my thick dark brown hair is all rolled up in curlers.

"I have these super tight curlers in my head but it's gonna' be alright when I wake up and take them out."

Lindsey giggles, "This is going to be really... interesting. Don't do anything you'll regret, Monica."

"Like what?"

"Hm, oh I don't know let him get to third base with you on top of that big giant grand piano in your living-room. Next thing you know you're pregnant and he leaves you for– No, I won't say that because Prince is sweet but next thing you know you're pregnant and you guys can't take care of the baby and your mother kicks you out then you and your little boyfriend and your baby are living in my basement and all this crazy madness–"

I quietly raise my tone into the phone, "Get a grip!" The sound of her pale cheeks turning a crimson color. She very rarely used profanity and she had to be completely heated to even consider it. "Nobody's letting anybody get to third base on top of a piano, Lindsey."

"I do that sometimes..." I exhale in frustration. "I'm tired and we've got your outfit. Can I please go back to sleep?"

Nodding, as if she can see me, I reply with a slightly languid tone of relief. "Yeah, I need to head back into bed too so my mother doesn't know that I was up." I didn't even get to say goodbye when the line went dead.

Poor Lindsey... At least I've got my fit for today's lesson. The phone gets put back on the hook as I slip into my bed and cover myself with the yellow flower comforter. Turning off my lamp I head back to sleep. The sleep did not last long at all. In fact, it was so short that I wound up regretting waking up to pick my outfit to begin with.