God Save the Teenager
1/1.
The truth is, we all saw it coming. Even worse, we didn't try to stop it.
But it's not like we could have.
Anna Lucia Martin came to us the second week of March. She had the pale skin of a northern city dweller, something uncommon in our small town in Georgia. Her hair was the color of a burnt rose petal and she smelled like one, too.
"Hello there, Robbie," she breathed into my ear. I didn't like how she said my name. I didn't like how deep and sultry her voice was. But she was seated next to me, and it looked like we'd be stuck like that for the rest of the year.
As a good southern gentleman, I had to mind my matters around her. It wasn't that hard, considering I spent most of the time simply observing her. Heck, everyone watched her. It was just... everything about her. The outline of a tattoo on her wrist, concealed by a sheer white long sleeved shirt. The way her breath smelled like spearmint and bubble gum. By her second week, she had become a legend. I would watch pair after pair of eyes turn her way, follow her down the hallway in six inch heels and clothes that hugged every curve of her body.
Let's get something straight. In my group of friends, the Jesus lovers or whatever, we do not drink. We don't party or smoke or have fun at the expense of our lives and health. Shoot, my momma would kick me out before I'd even have the chance to say the Lord's name. But Anna Lucia plowed through every cafeteria clique, sitting with whoever she damned well pleased. And on her first weekend, Anna Lucia cemented her status as the Great One Not to be Trifled With.
Word spread. Anna Lucia could down shot after shot without getting woozy. She played strip poker without shedding an article of clothing. Her choice of words put sailors to shame and her tattoo artist had a dwindling amount of canvas to work on.
"Lord," Grace Richards would say at Youth Group. We all held hands as her eyelashes fluttered and caressed her cheeks. "Please help this girl. Her name is Anna Lucia, and she hasn't a clue. She doesn't know sex before marriage is a sin. She doesn't know that alcohol will kill both herself and others. Please help her, Lord, and help her find her way. She needs all the help she can get."
The following September, at the start of our senior year, everyone was looking forward to seeing Anna Lucia. Had she changed at all? Did the brief weeks of summer help tame her wildness? But by first period everyone had known. Even the freshmen, new and innocent, had heard about the girl. It seemed like there had been an accident the month prior. Anna Lucia was driving around midnight. A man in a pick up truck, who had a bit too many drinks, ran a stop sign and slammed right into her drivers side door. She was killed instantly.
The worst part is, that man was our pastor. Even worse than that, Anna Lucia had a rosary hanging from her front mirror and a Bible in her glove compartment.
"Lord," I could almost hear Grace Richards say. "Please help this boy. His name is Robbie Porter, and he has no idea. He doesn't know how helplessly in love he is with Anna Lucia Martin and how much he'll miss her. Lord, he needs all the guidance he can get."
But it's not like we could have.
Anna Lucia Martin came to us the second week of March. She had the pale skin of a northern city dweller, something uncommon in our small town in Georgia. Her hair was the color of a burnt rose petal and she smelled like one, too.
"Hello there, Robbie," she breathed into my ear. I didn't like how she said my name. I didn't like how deep and sultry her voice was. But she was seated next to me, and it looked like we'd be stuck like that for the rest of the year.
As a good southern gentleman, I had to mind my matters around her. It wasn't that hard, considering I spent most of the time simply observing her. Heck, everyone watched her. It was just... everything about her. The outline of a tattoo on her wrist, concealed by a sheer white long sleeved shirt. The way her breath smelled like spearmint and bubble gum. By her second week, she had become a legend. I would watch pair after pair of eyes turn her way, follow her down the hallway in six inch heels and clothes that hugged every curve of her body.
Let's get something straight. In my group of friends, the Jesus lovers or whatever, we do not drink. We don't party or smoke or have fun at the expense of our lives and health. Shoot, my momma would kick me out before I'd even have the chance to say the Lord's name. But Anna Lucia plowed through every cafeteria clique, sitting with whoever she damned well pleased. And on her first weekend, Anna Lucia cemented her status as the Great One Not to be Trifled With.
Word spread. Anna Lucia could down shot after shot without getting woozy. She played strip poker without shedding an article of clothing. Her choice of words put sailors to shame and her tattoo artist had a dwindling amount of canvas to work on.
"Lord," Grace Richards would say at Youth Group. We all held hands as her eyelashes fluttered and caressed her cheeks. "Please help this girl. Her name is Anna Lucia, and she hasn't a clue. She doesn't know sex before marriage is a sin. She doesn't know that alcohol will kill both herself and others. Please help her, Lord, and help her find her way. She needs all the help she can get."
The following September, at the start of our senior year, everyone was looking forward to seeing Anna Lucia. Had she changed at all? Did the brief weeks of summer help tame her wildness? But by first period everyone had known. Even the freshmen, new and innocent, had heard about the girl. It seemed like there had been an accident the month prior. Anna Lucia was driving around midnight. A man in a pick up truck, who had a bit too many drinks, ran a stop sign and slammed right into her drivers side door. She was killed instantly.
The worst part is, that man was our pastor. Even worse than that, Anna Lucia had a rosary hanging from her front mirror and a Bible in her glove compartment.
"Lord," I could almost hear Grace Richards say. "Please help this boy. His name is Robbie Porter, and he has no idea. He doesn't know how helplessly in love he is with Anna Lucia Martin and how much he'll miss her. Lord, he needs all the guidance he can get."
♠ ♠ ♠
i do not know.