Great Expectations

“Bound by wild desire, I fell into a ring of fire.” – Johnny Cash

I returned from my date with Hunter around eleven, a rather early hour. If my parents noticed, they didn’t comment on it. I walked up to my room, shut the door, and was about to turn on the t.v. and watch a movie when a cracking sound echoed through the room. I glanced down at the remote I held, wondering if I had somehow broken it, but it was still intact. I stood and walked around my room, searching for the source of the sound, when it came again.

This time, I knew exactly where it was coming from.

Dirt marks scuffed the smooth surface of my window. I pushed it open and looked down. As I had expected, Dean Montague grinned up at me, wearing his usual leather jacket and jeans, holding a fistful of pebbles. I smiled down at him and he said three words: “Come with me.”

Glancing around my room, the words my friends’ had said repeated inside my mind. I grabbed a piece of paper and wrote a note for my parents, telling them I had gone over Poppy’s. I left it on my desk, just in case they would check on me. I stepped into my closet and stepped out of the dress I had worn to dinner with Hunter, pulled on a pair of jeans and a peasant blouse. I made sure my shoes were tied securely to my feet and pushed my window open as far as it would go.

For the first time in my life, I was sneaking out of my house. I was rebelling against my parents, and it was glorious.

The tree outside my window seemed farther away than it had a few moments ago. I reached out, grabbed onto a branch just above my head, and swung myself from my window. For a terrifying second, I thought I was trapped up there, but I realized a branch was just beneath my feet. I gingerly made my way to the trunk of the tree, easily climbing the sturdier branches to the ground.

“Hey,” Dean said, his eyes burning with life and excitement. “I never thought you’d just climb down here.” A reckless grin spread across my face and I turned to look at the window from which I had climbed. “I mean,” he continued, “I thought you’d at least tell your parents you were sleeping over Poppy’s and come out the front door.”

That possibility hadn’t even occurred to me. “I left them a note,” I said. Dean took my hand and started to walk down the street. “I’ve never done that before. I just wanted to know what it felt like.”

“What, sneaking out?” At the corner of the street, Dean’s bike was parked. It shone under a streetlight, screaming with danger. I wondered vaguely what had gotten into me that made me this rebellious, but dismissed it.

“Yeah,” I said. “It’s so… liberating.”

Dean laughed, helping me onto his bike and handing me a helmet. “Yeah, always is.” The engine roared to life and we sat idle for a second. He turned around. “Don’t you want to know where we’re going?”

“Doesn’t matter,” I said. “Let’s go.”

Dean’s eyes widened, clearly surprised. “What happened to you?”

“I’ve decided to listen to something my friends told me – take their advice,” I said. “I’m doing what I want. I want to make myself happy.”

Dean grinned. “Hold on,” he said. I secured my arms around his waist and we flew down the streets into the night.



Twenty minutes later, we pulled up to a beach. The ocean glittered darkly in the moon’s light and a bonfire licked at the sky. Laughter and music filled my ears, combined with the steady crash of waves on the shore. I had never known anyone to have a party on a beach – most of the people I associated with thought they were too good for that. We had parties at the country club, in people’s backyards, and at classy restaurants. We never did something as simple as a beach party.

I walked towards the beach and recognized a few people sitting around the fire. A girl waved, her long red hair rippling and a huge smile on her face. “Dean! Juliet! I didn’t think you could come!” she yelled. Half the people sitting around the fire turned to look at us, but few allowed their gazes to linger more than a few seconds.

“Hi Rosie,” Dean said, hugging his sister. My phone buzzed in my pocket, my eyes widening in shock as I saw the name on the screen.

“Hello, Mother,” I said. Dean’s eyebrows rose when he heard me speak. In an effort to quiet the noise, I walked away from the party, back towards Dean’s bike.

“If you’re at Poppy’s, why is your car still in the driveway and your purse in the kitchen?”

“Because she picked me up,” I said. “She wanted to hear about my date with Hunter.” I was lying through my teeth. If my mother knew me better, she would have heard the dishonesty in my voice. “It was great, by the way.”

“Well, that’s good,” she said. “Make sure you don’t come home too late.”

“I won’t,” I said, but the line had already gone dead. Frowning slightly, I pushed my phone back in my pocket and headed back over to Dean. Some days, I wished my parents cared more. I was glad I had been able to sneak out with Dean, but part of me wanted to get caught. Getting caught meant my parents cared about me, not about my reputation and what other people would say if I was caught sneaking around with someone that wasn’t Hunter.

“What was that about?” Dean asked, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. I shivered as the ocean wind bit through my thin blouse, causing him to pull me closer.

“My parents attempting to act like they give a fuck,” I said bitterly. Shaking my head, I apologized. “I shouldn’t be taking this out on you.”

“It’s fine.” We sat down on a piece of driftwood that had been pulled close to the fire. By now, people had drifted off to their own groups. Sitting farther up on a sand dune, Rosie had attracted a small group of people. Another member of the band, Chris, sat next to her with a guitar in his hands. As he played, she swayed gently and sang. “My parents don’t exactly win the award for parents of the year, either.”

Surprised, I turned to him. Dean never mentioned his parents. “I mean, my dad cares, but he works all the time so he can’t really keep up with us. My step-mom cares more about the state of her manicure than about me. I’m pretty sure she has no idea Rosie even exists.” He picked up a stick off the ground and prodded the fire, causing the wood to shift and crack and sending sparks high into the air.

“What happened to your mother?” I asked quietly.

He was silent for a few minutes. His grip around my shoulders loosened and he said, “She died five years ago. She had cancer.”

I was shocked into silence. I had assumed his parents were divorced, that his mother was back in New York. The entire time I knew Dean, I complained about my parents and how they didn’t care about me. I whined about how they wanted me to act and whom they wanted me to be with. All this time, I’d complained about my mother, not knowing Dean didn’t have one. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered finally.

He shook his head. “She always told me to be who I wanted to be. That’s why I don’t care about what other people tell me – I’m being myself, because I know that’s what my mom would want me to do.” Slowly, I wrapped my hand around his, intertwining our fingers. We sat in silence and watched the fire move, bright orange against the black sky.

“You know,” he finally said, still staring at the fire. “When I first met you, I knew you weren’t as stuck-up as you acted.” He turned to me. “I could tell it was fake. What I like about you is how your heart’s not really in the snobby California rich girl act.” He smirked. “I wanted to know what you were really like. I knew you’d fall for my perfect hair and charming personality.”

I laughed. “Why yes, that’s exactly what I fell for. How on Earth did you know?”

“I’m just irresistible.” His smirk softened to a smile as he continued to speak. “And so are you.” Suddenly there was no space between us; the fire burned hotter and the stars grinned brightly down at us as we kissed. I realized everything in my life before this moment was nothing more than a shadow of what it could have been. In that moment, I discovered what it really meant to be alive.