Another Teen Love Story

Midford was even more boring than I originally thought. Wilcox Way was completely uneventful as I pedaled down the completely even asphalt. Yeah, there were kids playing baseball out in the street and women tending to their gardens, but that was as interesting as it got.

It didn’t take long to find my way to downtown Midford, if you can even call it that. What appeared to be downtown Midford was, in fact, two parallel streets (Main Street and Second Street) running maybe two miles in either direction. Shops and restaurants and boutiques lined the street, each with their own individual personality. I didn’t see a single chain store, which was strange. There wasn’t even a Starbucks. In my opinion, a city was not a city until it had a Starbucks.

On the south end of Second Street there was a large expanse of green field, dotted with trees and bushes, benches, and a white gazebo in the center. There were several teenagers hanging around, lounging on the grass and tossing around a Frisbee. It seemed like this was the hangout for teenagers. How sad, and yet, quaint.

As I peddled past the field, searching for Puccini’s Pizza Parlor, I felt several pairs of eyes on me. No doubt I had caught the attention of the teenagers in the field. I felt like I had a neon sign hanging over me, informing that I was a newcomer to Midford. People must not move to this town often. New families are probably watched like hawks.

I screeched to a halt when I reached a building with a green, white and red striped awning. A simple painted sandwich board standing outside the front door signaled this place as being Puccini’s Pizza Parlor. I looked inside. Several groups filled the small restaurant, all with smiles and eating oversized slices of pizza. From the outside, it looked like a promising restaurant.

I dismounted my bike and left it standing next to the building. I wasn’t worried about it being stolen, so I didn’t lock it up. Seattle, however, would be a different case. I opened the glass door. A small bell dangling from the bar that was the handle signaled my entrance. Several eyes glanced up to watch me, but they quickly retreated. I made my way to the back, where the hostess stood behind a counter.

“Hi. I’m picking up two pizzas under the name Hirsch.”

“Hirsch. Pepperoni and cheese, right?” the hostess asked. She was a fairly attractive girl, with long dark hair pulled together at the nape of her neck, thick eyebrows and intense dark eyes. Her dark features contrasted sharply against her pale skin. “We just pulled them from the oven. They’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

“Okay, cool.”

The hostess bit her lip, as if she were trying to hold something back. Finally she spoke. “You’re the family that just moved onto Wilcox Way, aren’t you?”

I guess I was right in assuming that everyone would be hounding me and my family. My suspicions that families don’t frequently move here were heightened. “That’s right. Why do you ask?”

“Well, it’s not every day a new family moves into Midford.” Ding Ding Ding. We have a winner, I thought to myself. “So, will you be attending Percy Prep?”

“What?”

“Oh, sorry. You’d probably know it as Percival Preparatory Academy.”

“Um…” I couldn’t remember the name of the school I would be attending. But I knew it was a prestigious school – supposedly one of the top in the country. This Perceval place sounded ambitious. “Yeah.”

The girls’ face lit up. “How exciting! I’m currently going there. This will be my senior year. What year are you?”

“Same. Senior year.”

“You will just love it at Percy Prep. The teachers are nice. Students are nice. We have amazing sport teams. Our boys soccer team went to Nationals two years ago. Do you play any sports? I play tennis. You should try out for tennis! It would be a great way to get to meet people at Percy Prep. Have you signed up for any classes yet?”

“Uh…” I hadn’t followed a single word the girl had said; she talked a mile a minute. I was left standing there, blinking like a buffoon.

“Two pizzas to the Hirsch house,” a male voice said. A teenage boy – not much older than myself – came from the back room wielding two pizza boxes. He shared many of the same features as the hostess: dark hair, thick eyebrows, pale skin and intense eyes. My guess was that the two were siblings.

“Right. Let me see…That will be…sixteen dollars and fifty-eight cents,” the hostess said.

“Oh, right…” my eyes widened and I began to panic. In my haste to get out of the house I had forgotten to grab my wallet. I didn’t have a penny to my name. How was I going to pay for the pizzas? “Uh…Crap. This is really embarrassing…” I mumbled, pretending to search in my pockets for money, even though I knew they were empty, save for a gum wrapper.

The boy shoved the pizzas into my arms. “Don’t stress. First order’s free for new customers. It’s on the house.”

“Oh, wow. Thank you,” I said, stunned. I looked up at the boy. He was actually quite cute, if he would cut his hair shorter. I smiled. Maybe Midford won’t be so bad.

“No problem.” And without as much as a returned smile he retreated back to the kitchen.
The hostess rolled her eyes. “Don’t mind him. He is socially inept as a human being.” Yeah, they were definitely siblings. My guess was he was the older one. “So, I guess I will see you in a few weeks.”

“Yeah. And, uh, thanks for the pizzas,” I said.

“You’re welcome. And be sure to come back!” she called just as I managed to back through the door – the little bell tinkling as I exited – and out onto the street.