Carrie and Sheryl
Starstruck
The first time I met her, I only saw her shoes in the next stall in the country club restroom. They were white wedge sandals—on Labor Day. She wore them in defiance of the antiquated rule or as a last hurrah for summer’s innocence.
It had been a good summer for me. I got a tan, lost some weight, learned the perfect smoky eye, and appeared on national/north American television. “New Youth Talent Singer” was Simon Cowell’s low-budget show for Fuse. I tried out because I enjoy karaoke. Since then, I quit school, started hanging out with people of more privilege and signed to a record label. No deadlines and no strings. I signed up to this club using my talent show winnings. I need to keep this punk princess body in shape, after all.
[Flush]
It was when I got out of the stall that I realized it was Sheryl Shett who was in the stall next to me. I stared at her a little too long. My mouth moved, failing to find the words.
“I love your band.”
“Oh, thank you. What’s your favorite song?” she asked.
“That’s hard. Let me think a minute.” How can I choose just one? “That one, ‘What would I do…’ ‘Light Up!’ ”
“Nice! I like that one, too.” She finished drying her hands and walked toward the locker area.
“Bye.”
“Bye.”
After two minutes, I rinsed the soap off my hands. I just met the woman who would show me my destiny.
It had been a good summer for me. I got a tan, lost some weight, learned the perfect smoky eye, and appeared on national/north American television. “New Youth Talent Singer” was Simon Cowell’s low-budget show for Fuse. I tried out because I enjoy karaoke. Since then, I quit school, started hanging out with people of more privilege and signed to a record label. No deadlines and no strings. I signed up to this club using my talent show winnings. I need to keep this punk princess body in shape, after all.
[Flush]
It was when I got out of the stall that I realized it was Sheryl Shett who was in the stall next to me. I stared at her a little too long. My mouth moved, failing to find the words.
“I love your band.”
“Oh, thank you. What’s your favorite song?” she asked.
“That’s hard. Let me think a minute.” How can I choose just one? “That one, ‘What would I do…’ ‘Light Up!’ ”
“Nice! I like that one, too.” She finished drying her hands and walked toward the locker area.
“Bye.”
“Bye.”
After two minutes, I rinsed the soap off my hands. I just met the woman who would show me my destiny.
♠ ♠ ♠
I have an idea of where this will go. It may be a little slow to develop, however. The sandals look like this. They're kind of off-white, but Sheryl's would be bright white. Comments encouraged.