The Fleeting Happy

Eight

When Saturday morning came around, I awoke with more anxiety than usual.

I tried not to ruminate. My old therapist used to tell me to stop overthinking, to just clear my mind and stop the thoughts before they could get bad, but I never listened to her. It wasn't nearly as satisfying as giving up control. And so I sat there, thinking that for sure, I was gonna somehow mess tonight up.

Greene wasn't exactly the It Boy of Severn Valley High, but he was still a senior and everybody knew him and he wasn't ugly and he was a person who wanted to date me, which was rare and extremely fragile. I had to be very careful.

I started crying at about 10 AM, well after my mom left for work. I was crying because I was making too big a deal out of all this, I was crying because I'd never had a boyfriend before and I didn't really want one and no one seemed to understand that, I was crying because Greene was probably going to be really nice and really perfect and I wouldn't feel anything-- no butterflies, no spark, nothing.

I just wanted to be normal, I think. I wanted to be like the girls who date sometimes and are single sometimes and then they casually mention their boyfriends in passing, offhand conversation.

Why can't that be me?

Instead, I need about five months to mentally prepare myself for one measly dinner with some boy or else I'd have a panic attack the morning of.

I had to stop crying when Montana started calling.

"Hello?" I said.

"Morning, Mrs. Greene!"

"Don't call me that!"

"I'm sorry, I was just kidding. Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine!" I barked. "What's up?"

"I'm on my way to your place," Montana informed me. "I'm bringing my makeup and my favorite movies. We'll spend all day watching them and you're gonna do my makeup and then at about four, we'll get you ready. How does that sound?"

I cracked a wistful smile. "I think that sounds pretty nice."

"Diego's wondering if he can come too," Montana added, giggling.

"Diego's there with you?"

I heard a voice go: "Hola!" and then my smile widened even further and I found myself stifling my laughter.

"Sure, Diego can come," I said. "If I can do his makeup, too."

"Deal!" Diego yelled.

Montana's voice returned: "We'll be there in about twenty minutes, okay? See you then."

"See you."

I hung up and tried to get out more crying-- so that it wouldn't resurface later-- but I couldn't summon any more tears.

I think that's a good thing.

When Montana and Diego arrived, they made themselves at home very quickly. I had just opened the door when they burst in, discussing movie options very seriously. Montana went straight to the DVD player to pop in the first movie while Diego started pushing the couch out of the way and spreading out a series of quilts and blankets on the floor.

"Hey, Rory, 10 Things I Hate About You or She's the Man? We kind of have a Shakespeare modern remakes theme going on."

"Basically, she's asking, The Taming of the Shrew or Twelfth Night?" Diego translated dramatically.

"Ignore Diego, we also have A Midsummer Night's Rave and Gnomeo and Juliet," Montana quipped. "Which is it?"

"Twelfth Night!" I shouted.