April 24th, 1998
Stepping in the shower I let hot water splash on my back. I wash my shaggy hair and bring a bar of soap to unspeakable places. Letting the water rinse away any trace of grime, I'm living in my moment singing into my shampoo bottle. I step out, reaching for my towel. I attempt to dry my hair, except it's no use since my hair is just that thick. You always dry your hair first since it's the thing that retains the most moisture, so it just makes sense. 'Jessie's Girl' by Rick Springfield is playing loudly and I'm lip-syncing in the mirror. The world can't stop me from having a sock hop in my bathroom. I slide into a pair of worn acid-washed jeans and throw on a blue button-up. Rolling up the sleeves as I button my shirt up to the collar. Because today is the day I'm stepping out of my comfort zone, Today's the day and there's no turning back. I do a quick spin in socks that don't retain traction and I nearly slip. Catching myself at the last minute, my heart skipping a beat. As I walk into the kitchen, I open the fridge to grab a bottle of water since I don't know if food would stay down. Opening the bottle I hear my dad step down the stairs.
"Hey Tommy," my dad's a funny guy. He wanders over to the fridge to grab a beer because it's a Friday night, and even if I'm not drinking I would like to imagine that maybe future Tom would like to socially drink or smoke pot or something out of the box.
"Hey, dad," I say walking towards the front door.
"Where are you going sport?"
"Oh uh, my friends having a party,"
"Are you drinking?"
"No, I'm the DD."
"Ok well if you end up drinking don't drive ok?" I nod and he goes back to his own beer. I grab an overcoat, a warm beige corduroy jacket with a missing button on one of the chest pockets. The crisp yet warm April air sending confusion as to whether it's hot or cold. It's currently 7:35 pm. And I'm on my way to my first party. Well sorta, I've been to parties before. Just not big ones. Like the type of party where someone's mom would lead you to a basement with snacks and a movie, not music and beer or vodka party. I put my key in the ignition and wait until I hear the soft hum. I turn on the radio and sex and candy by Marcy playground play softly. I'm caught up in traffic when I realize what's happening. I'm glad I'm not drinking because if I was I'd probably get to the point where I'd do something stupid. I probably will be knowing myself far too well. I pull into Abby's duplex and she comes out with a bag full of booze. She's wearing mom jeans and a yellow polo shirt. Her hair is tied in a ponytail and a blue bandana is wrapped around her hair arching into a bow nearing the crown of her head acting as a headband. She's wearing a windbreaker because it's April and the snow isn't completely melted and it suits her well.
"Hey, Tom!"
"Hey, Abby!"
"Is this sex and candy?"
"You know sex and candy?" I ask turning it up,
"I love this song!"
"I thought you were more of a queen fan, but ok,"
"Tom I can like more than one band," she says laughing
"Ok ok, let's get your boyfriend."
"Tom, he's not my boyfriend, we're taking a break," Abby says looking at me.
"Jeez sorry I forgot you've been dating for so long, sorta force of habit," I say laughing. "When did that happen?"
"About two weeks ago? Why"
"No reason, you two were so good together tho, sorry,"
"It's fine you're doing great we're probably gonna get back together anyway, when are you gonna get locked up, I wanna go on double dates," Abby says elongating the word dates.
"I don't know, whenever I find the right person!" I say watching a fit dude run, he's broad and shirtless, and wearing gym shorts. I turn my attention back to the road blushing a little. Nobody knows. I don't even know if I am 100% but who knows.
Pulling into Rob Nixon's place he swings open the door and rushes to the car flying into the backseat,
"Hey bro!" He says slapping my shoulder.
"Hey sweetie," Abby says, blowing him a kiss.
"Hi cutie," he says. Catching the blown kiss and putting his hand in the pocket of his dark blue jeans. I thought they broke up? I don't know they're confusing. He's wearing a blue sweater that complements his dark blue jeans and his hair and his eyes.
"Hi, Rob!" I say pulling out of his driveway.
YOU ARE READING
The art of getting better.
Misterio / SuspensoI don't know what to do with myself. Understandably I'm a little distraught from that one September night, the night that changed my life forever. For starters the love of my life mysteriously died and maybe there's hope that he's still here. I mean...
