Senior Slumps
Scarlet
The clock above the stove struck 12:06 pm.
'One minute closer to death,' I thought bitterly, switching my attention back to the bowl of Cap'n Crunch in front of me. I was depressed, I knew that, and admitting is always the first step right?
It had been two weeks since the incident with Billie Joe and I just couldn't bring myself to get over it, over him. I had broken up with him, but why? I just ended up giving some half spat reason about him not being around when I was more confused then ever about the reason behind my action.
The best conclusion I could draw after the hours I spent pondering and staring at the plain ceiling above my bed was that the spark we had wasn't growing anymore, it was slowing burning out. I smirked, the though reminding me of the song Billie Joe was so proud to record.
When we were younger, love was full of adventure, of challenges as we tried to figure out the world around us, depending on each other every step of the way. Now there weren't many new discoveries to make, we were in our early twenties and the world was open to us. Maybe it was the stability of everything that possessed me to do what I did. Subconsciously I had just given up trying.
Sighing, I turned my cereal over with the spoon and shoveled a decent serving into my mouth. By now the sweetened cereal had turned to a salty mush. I made a face and forcefully swallowed, flushing it down with a sip of orange juice.
I pushed my bowl away just as the smell of Chanel N˚ 5 wafted up my nostrils.
"About time you got up," my mother smiled at me as she crossed the room and started pouring herself a glass of wine.
"Mom," I sat up straight, and motioned toward the clock, "Its only noon!"
She waved off my observation, "Honey when you get to be my age you'll enjoy these simple pleasures of life."
I grunted in response and placed my head on my folded arms as Mom sat across from me with her drink.
"What's wrong sweetie?" she asked. "You've been so down the past few days."
I grumbled to myself. I hadn't told her about what had happened, basically because I knew better. Telling her about Billie Joe and I would send her off on some day long rand about how much she "secretly" despised him and how her Poor Baby shouldn't have to ever deal with him again. Honestly, I couldn't deal with that right now.
"Nothing," I lied. "Just bored."
She gave me a sympathetic look and sipped her Merlot. "Oh! You got a phone call this morning," she said as if that sip of booze had jumpstarted her memory.
"Who?" I sat up; Billie Joe sprinted through my thoughts.
"Some girl, she had a sweet voice. Her name was umm..." She tapped her temple. "Um, Charlotte, no, Char, Scar... "
"Scarlet!?" I jumped up, startling my mother.
"That's it!" she exclaimed but I was already making my way to the hallway where the phone was.
"Did she leave a number?" I asked searching frantically for a piece of paper on the table.
My Mother came up swiftly beside me, wine still in hand, and pressed a piece of paper into my palm. "Yes."
I could have hugged her.
*-*-*
"Wow," I stood in the middle of my bedroom, eyes widened in disbelief "Congratulations!"
"Thanks!" Scarlet said cheerfully. I could picture her perfectly, standing in her kitchen, examining her ring finger and the new diamond ring that was slipped onto it. "Oh Jess," she sighed. "It was so sweet, he's so sweet God, I love him."
I smiled at the receiver. Even though the mushy talk of Scarlet's engagement irritated me a bit, I couldn't help but be excited for her; Scarlet and Trevor were finally getting hitched. Sure they were extremely young, but when you're in love who gives a shit?
"I'm really, really happy for you Scar," I said truthfully.
After a few more minutes of giddy girl talk and wedding chatter, the tables turned and Scarlet put me on the spot.
"So anyway, enough about me how are you? How's your Mom? Ooh how is Billie Joe?"
I decided to answer her rapid fire in one swoop. "Decent, drunk, and nonexistent." I sighed at the end.
Now I could picture her eyes widening. "What happened?"
I flopped down on my bed, "I don't know."
**
An hour later, Scarlet and I finally said goodbye after an extremely childish "You first," "No, you first." Eventually she was forced to hang up by her Father, who was taking the happy couple out to dinner.
Smiling to myself, I made my way to the bedroom door with a cheery feeling I hadn't had in weeks. Maybe all I needed was to talk to someone who actually understood, or maybe this feeling was just a temporary fix, an 'up' feeling I'll have until something causes me to spiral my way back down again.
Reaching the edge of my room, I threw a glance toward the calendar on my wall. Maybe it was just an extreme round of PMS that just came around at the wrong time. Searching for the small red 'X' that I marked, I became extremely confused. I wasn't due till the twenty-first, but that didn't seem right. Carefully, my eyes scanned up toward the month, which stared at me in bold letters. I had forgotten to flip the calendar. I was due on November twenty-first, not December twenty-first. I was three weeks late.
'One minute closer to death,' I thought bitterly, switching my attention back to the bowl of Cap'n Crunch in front of me. I was depressed, I knew that, and admitting is always the first step right?
It had been two weeks since the incident with Billie Joe and I just couldn't bring myself to get over it, over him. I had broken up with him, but why? I just ended up giving some half spat reason about him not being around when I was more confused then ever about the reason behind my action.
The best conclusion I could draw after the hours I spent pondering and staring at the plain ceiling above my bed was that the spark we had wasn't growing anymore, it was slowing burning out. I smirked, the though reminding me of the song Billie Joe was so proud to record.
When we were younger, love was full of adventure, of challenges as we tried to figure out the world around us, depending on each other every step of the way. Now there weren't many new discoveries to make, we were in our early twenties and the world was open to us. Maybe it was the stability of everything that possessed me to do what I did. Subconsciously I had just given up trying.
Sighing, I turned my cereal over with the spoon and shoveled a decent serving into my mouth. By now the sweetened cereal had turned to a salty mush. I made a face and forcefully swallowed, flushing it down with a sip of orange juice.
I pushed my bowl away just as the smell of Chanel N˚ 5 wafted up my nostrils.
"About time you got up," my mother smiled at me as she crossed the room and started pouring herself a glass of wine.
"Mom," I sat up straight, and motioned toward the clock, "Its only noon!"
She waved off my observation, "Honey when you get to be my age you'll enjoy these simple pleasures of life."
I grunted in response and placed my head on my folded arms as Mom sat across from me with her drink.
"What's wrong sweetie?" she asked. "You've been so down the past few days."
I grumbled to myself. I hadn't told her about what had happened, basically because I knew better. Telling her about Billie Joe and I would send her off on some day long rand about how much she "secretly" despised him and how her Poor Baby shouldn't have to ever deal with him again. Honestly, I couldn't deal with that right now.
"Nothing," I lied. "Just bored."
She gave me a sympathetic look and sipped her Merlot. "Oh! You got a phone call this morning," she said as if that sip of booze had jumpstarted her memory.
"Who?" I sat up; Billie Joe sprinted through my thoughts.
"Some girl, she had a sweet voice. Her name was umm..." She tapped her temple. "Um, Charlotte, no, Char, Scar... "
"Scarlet!?" I jumped up, startling my mother.
"That's it!" she exclaimed but I was already making my way to the hallway where the phone was.
"Did she leave a number?" I asked searching frantically for a piece of paper on the table.
My Mother came up swiftly beside me, wine still in hand, and pressed a piece of paper into my palm. "Yes."
I could have hugged her.
*-*-*
"Wow," I stood in the middle of my bedroom, eyes widened in disbelief "Congratulations!"
"Thanks!" Scarlet said cheerfully. I could picture her perfectly, standing in her kitchen, examining her ring finger and the new diamond ring that was slipped onto it. "Oh Jess," she sighed. "It was so sweet, he's so sweet God, I love him."
I smiled at the receiver. Even though the mushy talk of Scarlet's engagement irritated me a bit, I couldn't help but be excited for her; Scarlet and Trevor were finally getting hitched. Sure they were extremely young, but when you're in love who gives a shit?
"I'm really, really happy for you Scar," I said truthfully.
After a few more minutes of giddy girl talk and wedding chatter, the tables turned and Scarlet put me on the spot.
"So anyway, enough about me how are you? How's your Mom? Ooh how is Billie Joe?"
I decided to answer her rapid fire in one swoop. "Decent, drunk, and nonexistent." I sighed at the end.
Now I could picture her eyes widening. "What happened?"
I flopped down on my bed, "I don't know."
**
An hour later, Scarlet and I finally said goodbye after an extremely childish "You first," "No, you first." Eventually she was forced to hang up by her Father, who was taking the happy couple out to dinner.
Smiling to myself, I made my way to the bedroom door with a cheery feeling I hadn't had in weeks. Maybe all I needed was to talk to someone who actually understood, or maybe this feeling was just a temporary fix, an 'up' feeling I'll have until something causes me to spiral my way back down again.
Reaching the edge of my room, I threw a glance toward the calendar on my wall. Maybe it was just an extreme round of PMS that just came around at the wrong time. Searching for the small red 'X' that I marked, I became extremely confused. I wasn't due till the twenty-first, but that didn't seem right. Carefully, my eyes scanned up toward the month, which stared at me in bold letters. I had forgotten to flip the calendar. I was due on November twenty-first, not December twenty-first. I was three weeks late.