Ageless Beauty

Every morning since my Mother had decided that I was old enough to cross the street, I had been getting up every Saturday morning to get the mail before she left for work. On Saturdays, she left for work at seven-thirty every morning, to ensure that she'd be able to leave earlier in the evening then she would on a normal weekday. Mr. Parsons only delivered the mail to our doors in the summer, when the weather was warm because the cold weather always made his knee swell. So, I'd pull myself out of bed a half an hour before my Mother would leave, and get ready for my day. First I'd dress, then I'd brush my hair and teeth. I'd then make my way downstairs, put on my shoes and grab the keys to the communal set of mailboxes across the street.

That Saturday morning was no different than any other. I had woken up before the sun, and rolled out from beneath my pink, polka-dotted sheets. I walked to my closet and sorted through my wardrobe, pulling out a floral skirt and light pink tank top. Underneath, I wore Grey tights and pulled on a thick, knitted sweater before making my way downstairs. My boots were waiting by the door, so I slipped them onto my feet and grabbed my keys from the hook on the wall. I could hear my Mother rummaging through the kitchen, most likely making her lunch for work.

"Morning!" I had called out to her, pulling open the front door. "I'm getting the mail now."

The sky had been a dreary shade of Grey that morning because, if I remember correctly, it had rained all throughout the afternoon. A cold breeze blue past my face, blowing my hair about in every direction. My teeth chattered from the cold, and I had pulled the sleeves of my sweater down to cover my hands as I made my way down the flag stone path. The flowers in my Mother's flower bed had been dying by this point in the season, considering the cool weather that was setting in.

I was sad that winter was finally here. I had to pack away all of my summer dresses and sandals, and trade them all in for winter clothing that would keep me warm in the cold wind. I thanked the Lord that we didn't receive snow in our little town, because if we did, I'd most likely die. When I visited Gramma Jean with my Mother and Sarah every year, I'd always stay cooped up inside the house. It was much too cold to go out in the snow. I didn't understand how anyone could find playing around in frozen water appealing. It was cold, it was wet, and it caused Frost Bite.

I neared the brown boxes situated at the end of Mr. Reilly's lawn. Mr. Reilly was a widowed old man who lived in the oldest house on the street. He never really left the house, but when he did, it was only to sit on the same old porch swing where his wife had always sat before she died. I suppose it was his way of remembering her. Just like how, sometimes, I would put on my Father's old, plaid hunting jacket when it was cold. It still smelled like him after all these years, and it reminded me of him. Maybe that porch swing reminded him of Mrs. Reilly. That morning, he was not sitting there when I came out. He never came out in the winter. Not even to sit on the porch swing. Much like Mr. Parsons, Mr. Reilly had more than a few joints in his body that would swell in the cold weather. Sometimes, the cold would make him so stiff that he couldn't even walk, so he stayed inside. I suppose he had other methods of remembering Mrs. Reilly inside the house.

So, I continued to the second mail box, and pushed the key into the lock of the seventh compartment. With a simple twist and a pull, the silver door swung open and reveal the series of envelopes inside. I always looked at each and every letter as I pulled them from the mail box. I was curious to see what sort of mail was coming in and out of the house, I suppose. I wanted to know what bills my Mother was paying, and what companies were mailing about Sarah's medications.

I remember how I could hear something coming from down the street. It would loud and constant, coming nearer and nearer to me. It sounded like wheels against asphalt, but it was much louder than the sound of car tires. There weren't many children on the street, so it wasn't often that we would hear a bike pass by or a scooter. So, I had glanced up from the thick envelope in my hand, squinting my eyes toward the figure rolling down the street. They were on a skate board, I could see, which explained the loud sound. For such tiny, little wheels, they sure made a lot of sound.

I pulled the last of the mail from the box, and shut the door, locking it up and pulling the key out of the hole. I shoved the letters into the large pocket of my my sweater, and slowly made my way to cross the street. By now, the noise had stopped, and I looked up at the boy standing before my house. He was just sort of staring at it, as if it were some sort of monument. As if it were something impressive. I took in his appearance, from his unruly, black hair and worn, leather jacket.

"Christian?" I had called out, making my way toward him.

He spun around quickly, eying me curiously. "Oh, hey."

I furrowed my brow. "What are you doing here? Uhm, like, not that I don't want you here, but like... Yeah."

He chuckled breathily. "Well, I had work this morning, so I wanted to stop by before and give you back your phone."

"My phone?" I asked quickly. "You had it?"

"I found it in the library after we crashed into each other." He said, pulling it from the pocket of his jacket and handing it to me.

"Oh my God." I laughed, rubbing my forehead. "You have no idea how freaked out I was about losing this. Uhm, thank you. So much."

He scratched the back of his neck, something that I had learned that he did often. "No problem. I mean, it is yours."

I laughed. "I suppose, but seriously. Thanks. I feel like I should repay you somehow. You came all the way over here to give this to me."

"Well, there is one way." He grinned crookedly, looking away from me.

"What is that?" I asked wearily.

"There's this party tonight." He shrugged his shoulders. "I know we haven't really... Talked in a few years, but I would really like it if you went with me."

"What kind of party?" I asked him.

"Well, just a bunch of people over at my friend's house having a good time." He explained. "It'll be really fun. especially if you come with me. I'd like to get to know you."

I couldn't help but be slightly taken aback at that moment. I mean, he had never wanted to get to know any of the other girls. At least, I don't think so. He never even paid any attention to them, but here he was, asking me to a party with him on a Saturday night. He was asking me to go somewhere public with him. I would think that I wasn't the type of girl a guy in general would want to show off, but this was Christian.

"Sure." I breathed, nodding my head up and down quickly. "I would, uhm, l-like that."

"Cool." He grinned, putting his skateboard back on the ground. "Well, I have to go to work now. So, I'll pick you up at seven. Alright?"

I merely nodded, watching as he got on his skateboard and made his way away from me. When he was down the street, he turned back to me, and faintly, I could see the crooked grin on his face. Eventually, I was able to pull myself away from my spot, melted to the driveway. I pulled the front door open, being met face-to-face with my Mother. I gave her a curious look, and she merely coughed, straightening out her shirt.

"What were you doing?" I asked curiously, raising a single brow at her.

"Beside the point." She said. "Who was the boy?"

"Do you remember Christian De Luca?" I asked, and she nodded. "Well, that's him."

"He's gotten so big!" She exclaimed. "And so good-looking."

I laughed at her, grabbing the mail from my pocket and handing it to her.

"So, what did he want?" She asked, following me into the kitchen.

I sat down at the table, and shrugged my shoulders. "He wanted to return my phone... And uhm, he--Can I go out tonight?"

She raised her brow. "Where and with who?"

"Well, uhm, with Christian." I said quietly. "And to his friend's house."

"Well, as long as you promise that there will be no fornicating, no alcohol consumption, and no drugs use-"

"Drug use, Mom? Do you even know me?" I raised both my eyebrows at her, completely astounded that she'd even think I'd take part in such things.

"Fine." She said, smirking at me. "No hard drugs. I'm talking meth, cocaine, heroine, things like that."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, you take the fun out of everything."

"I'm going to work." She said, kissing my cheek and grabbing her lunch bag off of the counter. "I suppose you can go out, but be back at a decent hour."

"I will." I grinned. "Bye Mom!"

"Tell your sister I love her!" She called before closing the door behind her.

And then I had gotten up, making my way upstairs to get my sister's help to pick out an outfit for the party.