Reckless Nostalgia

“Dad! I’m home!” I called as I stumbled into the foyer. Our door had the tendency to stick, so it was often necessary for to throw all my weight onto it for it to open.

I knew instantly that Sheila, dad’s long-time girlfriend was working the late shift at the hospital from the horrible burnt stench that came wafting out of the kitchen. Sheila wasn’t much of a cook herself, but at least she could boil pasta, I thought as I turned off the stove and attempted to stir the mass uni-noodle that had formed at the bottom of the pan.

How the heck did he manage to fuck up pasta? I walked out of the kitchen and found my father napping on the living room couch. He was stretched out over the entire couch. My dad was roughly 6’3 so naturally the whole couch wasn’t nearly long enough to house him. His feet shot comically straight out over the armrest and his arm hung off the side, clutching the TV remote. On the screen, Oprah was lecturing about good health.

“Dad… wake up” I said prodding him.
He stirred slightly.
“Dad! You left the stove on! The noodles are ruined.” I said, trying again.
He sat up, his dark blue eyes, identical to mine, widened. “Oh, shit. You’re right.” he said bolting into the kitchen.
“I’m so sorry!” He called
I could hear him mutter a string of curse words. There was the sound of water being poured down the drain, immediately followed by the roar of the garbage disposal. He pokes his head through the door sheepishly, and hands me the takeout menu of our favorite Chinese restaurant. I hand it back to him without even looking at it and say “The usual”.
He grins and disappears back into the kitchen.

I rolled my eyes and ignored my growling stomach as I clomped up the stairs to my room. I let my backpack fall to the floor, and flopped backwards onto my bed. I laid there for a little bit, just kind of napping, closing my eyes and drifting away, until I finally summoned the energy to get up and haul my laptop from the floor onto my bed. I had a ton of homework to do: English paper, science homework, even economics homework… but of course I first logged onto Facebook. After scrolling through all the annoying, pathetic attempts that my peers post to make their life seem better than reality ( Dani Moore: Everything seems so boring here compared to spring break! LOL) or (Kevin Cravens: Yo party at my house BYOB) please, it’s a Monday night. No one will go to that. Just as I had about had it with Facebook, I received an instant message from Stephen.

Stephen SupaFly Walters: Hey there :)

My heart stopped. There was no way in hell I should answer this. Hailey would have me beheaded. Don’t answer it, Don’t answer it…
I repeated my manta and moved my cursor toward the log out button. Stephen must have sensed that he was about to be shunned because he messaged me again, making me reconsider.

Stephen SupaFly Walters: I know you’re there! Don’t ignore me! I just want to talk about what happened.

I gave in and typed back.

Reese Scott: I have nothing to say to you.

There! I grinned triumphantly. Hailey would be proud of my no nonsense response. Feeling pleased with myself I went to deliver the kicker; the intentional log-out. Which is the cyber equivalent of a slap in the face. He once again intercepted me.

Stephen SupaFly Walters: What do you mean there’s nothing to talk about? How about the fact that I almost blew being with the most beautiful girl to ever walk the hallways of Emery High :( Can I least come over to apologize in person?

How can you blame me?! He called me beautiful! My heart soared. I could just picture Hailey’s disapproving glare, directed straight at me as I managed to reply “Okay” and finally log out without losing it. But hey after that response, I figured him coming by to repeat it in person couldn’t hurt right?
For the next twenty-five minutes I was a restless mess. I just couldn’t sit still. I braided, un-braided and braided my long brown hair at least twice, only to take down the braid again. I changed my clothes going from my most reveling dress, with my push up bra, to finally settling on my favorite tank top, sans push up bra. I was involved in a hardcore debate with myself (perfume or no perfume?) when the doorbell rang. I quickly squirted myself, making sure to rub behind my ears too and threw myself down the stairs.

Why I was running, I have no idea. My dad never answers the door, always joking “I have no friends, I know it’s not for me!” when asked. I stopped in front of the door and took a deep breath before opening it. Stephen gave me a small adorable wave when he saw me. (Stay strong Reese) I told myself. I allowed myself to nod in his direction.
“Hey, come on in” I said opening the screen door for him.
He stepped in, and once inside his face contorted, his green eyes and upturned nose smushing together in one motion. “What is that smell?” He gasped.
Alarmed that it was my perfume I quickly stepped back, stammering.
“It-uh-uh-uh what-wh…”
“Sorry I burned dinner” my dad called cheerfully from the couch.
I whipped my head around craning my neck into to the next room to see him sitting on the couch engrossed in Oprah.

“Can we go to your room” he whispered into my ear.
I jumped about a mile in the air, having not seen him sidle up to me.
I nodded.

Once in my room, I sat on the edge of my bed as he closed the door behind him. I gluped.
We sat in silence for a couple of seconds until I braved a glance at him. To my surprise he was already staring at me. Studying my face.
“You are so beautiful” he whispered, making me blush.
“Oh” was all I could think to say.
He took my cold, probably clammy hand in his.
“I’m so sorry for being an asshole Reese. The thing is, I like you a lot and I want to get to know you better. What do you say?” He’s looking right into my eyes now, his smooth pale face was without a flaw and about four inches away from mine. I spotted a cute little mole on his right temple. That was the last thing I saw before he kissed me.

It wasn’t my first kiss, but it was defiantly the best kiss I’ve ever had. His lips were soft and salty, like he’d eaten potato chips before he’d gotten here, and his breath was minty and cool. His tongue was wet and-
I pulled away from the kiss abruptly.
“What are you doing?” I asked thickly
“Shh” the classic finger against my lips “You’ll like it I promise”
And like it I did.
Some time later the doorbell rings again. I unattached myself from Stephens lips as I sprang out of bed.
“Uhm, the stuff-st is here” I stuttered uncomfortably.
Stephen nodded then asked me to hand him his shirt. He put it on and kissed me and the cheek.
“That was fun sweetheart. Again sometime right?”
I think I nodded and he was gone.
I flopped on my bed again, overwhelmed with what had just happened.

“REESE!!! The Chinese is here!” my dad bellowed from downstairs.

I slumped downstairs to the table where my older brother Lucas and my eight year old sister Caroline were already seated. They had just come home from school because Lucas as after-school football practice everyday while Caroline has a standing after schooling tutoring session with her math teacher. Lucas picks Caroline up to save gas.
“Reese!” Caroline exclaims as soon as she sees me. “Look what we’re having for dinner today! My favorite!”
“I know, I picked it out because Dad burned the pasta again” I said scooping some fried rice on my plate.
“What happened to that Martha Stuart cookbook we got you for your birthday?” said Lucas in-between shoveling scoops of sesame chicken in his mouth.
“Uhh, well I don’t know” replied Dad sheepishly. “Probably in my room somewhere.”
We continued to eat, chattering here and there.
“Hey Reese. What was Stephen Walters doing here? I saw him pulling out when we were coming in. Did he ask about me?” Lucas asked with narrowed eyes. Lucas is senior captain on the football team, and tryouts for his captain position for next year are coming up, so he’s been suspicious about who I talk to lately.
“Nope” I replied taking a sip of my lemonade “We have drama together and he missed a couple of vital notes”
I prayed my dad didn’t chip in. Thankfully he didn’t.

After dinner I spent the rest of the night sprawled in my bed, reliving Stephen’s kisses over and over.