Suddenly November Morning
With A Little Help From My Friends
This isn't fair. These feelings that I feel can't be real, I know they shouldn't be, I know I'm just young. I took care of him, though. I know it was only once, but it was so vivid. He probably doesn't remember. He was drunk, to the point of falling over. I brought him food, I brought him juice, I brought him to my house. I covered him with a blanket and swept the hair out of his eyes. Later in the night, in an odd state where I couldn't tell if he was sober or not, he pressed his lips against mine, and the incessant tingling began, right in the pit of my stomach. I'd been waiting for that single kiss since the first time I'd ever met him. Oh, that night.
~@~
I was so nervous. I stood, shyly near the kitchen counter, the bottom of my sweater fighting against my hand as I anxiously tugged at it. In my head, I didn't belong, this group of people were not the type I grew up with. I grew up with kids who sat home on a friday night and watched the Dick Van Dyke show with their parents. I was the girl who always got good marks in school, the girl who could have a serious future. In the eyes of parents and other authority figures, only my big political ideas were trouble; I was a good kid. Not like these guys. I listened to the same music, but I listened because I felt the emotions and the ideals of the artist, not because it was groovy to listen to while smoking reefer.
"Relax," Anna assured. "these guys are all right. They won't try anything around a nerd like you."
"I'm not a nerd! Well, I am a nerd, but that doesn't mean that I can't be cool. I've just never had the opportunity." I attempted in defense. No such luck, Anna merely chuckled. A knock emanated from Anna's foyer. She walked to answer the door. I, however, stayed static. Leaning on the counter, I tried to look nonchalant and coy, hoping to hide my skittishness. After only a short few seconds, Anna led three guys past me and down the stairs into the basement.
"C'mon, Lacey!" She coaxed from the bottom of the stairs. I followed, apprehensively, sizing up these fellows in my head.
The big one, Ronnie, had long, thick, black hair that reached his shoulders. His nose was curved, his lips plump and dark. He had tan skin and big brown eyes. His stature and his presence were intimidating, his substantial mass usurping me by whole numbers.
The tall, lanky guy, Chaz, if my memory serves, held an air of dopeishness. His laugh, which was ceaseless since the three walked in, was that of a dumbed down nature. His teeth protruded gracelessly from his mouth, his muddy eyes dull and empty. He was to the point of being tall where none of clothes fit him correctly. His face was scattered with acne, evidence of poor hygiene. I hoped, for his sake, that he had a nice personality.
The third joe that had walked in the door had caught my eye more so than the others. He wasn't abnormally sized, only being a few inches taller than myself. His eyes were dark and brown, like the others, but they were full of soul, of passion. His teeth made up a crooked smile, one that warms up a room. His raven hair floated lightly around his head, just over his forehead. However, while his physical features were enough to sway me into attraction, the most important aspect was his warm smell. It permeated the air, a memorable, intoxicating scent. He smiled as he walked by, a warm and inviting smile that enveloped my mind. His name reverberated in my head. Steven.
I'd only been in Anna's basement once before. It was welcoming, though it catered specifically to those of our age. Rock band posters were on the wall, records scattered around, a freezer in the storage room, filled with quick snacks for us to nosh. The three guys had walked into the storage room, retrieving food and soda for themselves and began taking various seats around the room. I, on the other hand, had headed straight for the couch that sat in the middle of the room, against the back wall. I chose the seat on the far left, closest to the arm; it was a favorite of mine. Anna switched on the TV and, clicker in hand, sat on the far left of the couch. Ronnie sat in his own chair to the right of the couch, an orange suede recliner, just the right size for him. Chaz sat to left of me, in a rickety folding chair beside the couch. Chaz and Ronnie cracked their pops open in unison, laughed, and then were drawn into the television. Steven swaggered from the back room, handing Anna a grape pop and me a cherry one, the settling to my immediate right. A flutter of nerves sparked inside my stomach as his scent hit me. As discretely as I could, I glanced at Steven. He was adorned in the official uniform of rock and roll, consisting of a Zeppelin shirt and worn, tight-fitting jeans. The denim jacket that he'd worn inside was now draped casually on the back of the couch. Suddenly, I was shocked out of my observation.
"So, Ann, who's this bunny you've brought us?" Ronnie inquired, an unwanted flattery in his voice.
"Oh, right, this is Lacey, she's in my English class, she's, like, insanely smart."
"Is that right? Lacey's a genius, then?"
A shock of embarrassment and shame struck me all at once. Since when did being smart become a negative attribute? It's not like I chose to be smart.
"No, I'm really not, I just like English. And history. And school. I just like learning, okay? I'm not smart. Don't let Anna tell you that. I'm not." As soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted them. Why on earth did I have to sound so helpless and flustered? It's not as if I had to impress these guys, society considered them degenerates. Still, though, I wanted with every inch of my soul to be liked by them, and I couldn't fathom why.
I still want them to like me.
"So, Lacey in the sky with diamonds, what are you into?" Chaz asked, an offbeat undertone to his voice.
"First of all, it's Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds, I'm a huge Beatles fan, and secondly, I'm not entirely sure how to answer your inquiry. What do you mean by 'what are you into'?" I stammered, hopefully I could manage to gain back some respect.
"Like music or sports or whatever. What do you do?"
"Oh, well, I... I guess I listen to music a lot. I go to the multiplex a lot. I write."
"What music do you listen to?"
"All kinds. Most your standard fair though, Zeppelin, Hendrix, The Beatles, Floyd, The Who, you know, your basic stuff." I focused on biting the inside of my cheek, hoping they believed me. It's true, after all, but no one ever believes me.
"Wow. A nerd who listens to Rock and Roll. Here I thought you'd be into that Donnie and Marie shit." Ronnie piped from the corner. "Hey, Ann, let's take this girl out around town sometime, alright? She's pretty cool."
Cool. That word struck an inner chord in my stomach. These guys thought that I was.... cool.
~@~
I was so nervous. I stood, shyly near the kitchen counter, the bottom of my sweater fighting against my hand as I anxiously tugged at it. In my head, I didn't belong, this group of people were not the type I grew up with. I grew up with kids who sat home on a friday night and watched the Dick Van Dyke show with their parents. I was the girl who always got good marks in school, the girl who could have a serious future. In the eyes of parents and other authority figures, only my big political ideas were trouble; I was a good kid. Not like these guys. I listened to the same music, but I listened because I felt the emotions and the ideals of the artist, not because it was groovy to listen to while smoking reefer.
"Relax," Anna assured. "these guys are all right. They won't try anything around a nerd like you."
"I'm not a nerd! Well, I am a nerd, but that doesn't mean that I can't be cool. I've just never had the opportunity." I attempted in defense. No such luck, Anna merely chuckled. A knock emanated from Anna's foyer. She walked to answer the door. I, however, stayed static. Leaning on the counter, I tried to look nonchalant and coy, hoping to hide my skittishness. After only a short few seconds, Anna led three guys past me and down the stairs into the basement.
"C'mon, Lacey!" She coaxed from the bottom of the stairs. I followed, apprehensively, sizing up these fellows in my head.
The big one, Ronnie, had long, thick, black hair that reached his shoulders. His nose was curved, his lips plump and dark. He had tan skin and big brown eyes. His stature and his presence were intimidating, his substantial mass usurping me by whole numbers.
The tall, lanky guy, Chaz, if my memory serves, held an air of dopeishness. His laugh, which was ceaseless since the three walked in, was that of a dumbed down nature. His teeth protruded gracelessly from his mouth, his muddy eyes dull and empty. He was to the point of being tall where none of clothes fit him correctly. His face was scattered with acne, evidence of poor hygiene. I hoped, for his sake, that he had a nice personality.
The third joe that had walked in the door had caught my eye more so than the others. He wasn't abnormally sized, only being a few inches taller than myself. His eyes were dark and brown, like the others, but they were full of soul, of passion. His teeth made up a crooked smile, one that warms up a room. His raven hair floated lightly around his head, just over his forehead. However, while his physical features were enough to sway me into attraction, the most important aspect was his warm smell. It permeated the air, a memorable, intoxicating scent. He smiled as he walked by, a warm and inviting smile that enveloped my mind. His name reverberated in my head. Steven.
I'd only been in Anna's basement once before. It was welcoming, though it catered specifically to those of our age. Rock band posters were on the wall, records scattered around, a freezer in the storage room, filled with quick snacks for us to nosh. The three guys had walked into the storage room, retrieving food and soda for themselves and began taking various seats around the room. I, on the other hand, had headed straight for the couch that sat in the middle of the room, against the back wall. I chose the seat on the far left, closest to the arm; it was a favorite of mine. Anna switched on the TV and, clicker in hand, sat on the far left of the couch. Ronnie sat in his own chair to the right of the couch, an orange suede recliner, just the right size for him. Chaz sat to left of me, in a rickety folding chair beside the couch. Chaz and Ronnie cracked their pops open in unison, laughed, and then were drawn into the television. Steven swaggered from the back room, handing Anna a grape pop and me a cherry one, the settling to my immediate right. A flutter of nerves sparked inside my stomach as his scent hit me. As discretely as I could, I glanced at Steven. He was adorned in the official uniform of rock and roll, consisting of a Zeppelin shirt and worn, tight-fitting jeans. The denim jacket that he'd worn inside was now draped casually on the back of the couch. Suddenly, I was shocked out of my observation.
"So, Ann, who's this bunny you've brought us?" Ronnie inquired, an unwanted flattery in his voice.
"Oh, right, this is Lacey, she's in my English class, she's, like, insanely smart."
"Is that right? Lacey's a genius, then?"
A shock of embarrassment and shame struck me all at once. Since when did being smart become a negative attribute? It's not like I chose to be smart.
"No, I'm really not, I just like English. And history. And school. I just like learning, okay? I'm not smart. Don't let Anna tell you that. I'm not." As soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted them. Why on earth did I have to sound so helpless and flustered? It's not as if I had to impress these guys, society considered them degenerates. Still, though, I wanted with every inch of my soul to be liked by them, and I couldn't fathom why.
I still want them to like me.
"So, Lacey in the sky with diamonds, what are you into?" Chaz asked, an offbeat undertone to his voice.
"First of all, it's Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds, I'm a huge Beatles fan, and secondly, I'm not entirely sure how to answer your inquiry. What do you mean by 'what are you into'?" I stammered, hopefully I could manage to gain back some respect.
"Like music or sports or whatever. What do you do?"
"Oh, well, I... I guess I listen to music a lot. I go to the multiplex a lot. I write."
"What music do you listen to?"
"All kinds. Most your standard fair though, Zeppelin, Hendrix, The Beatles, Floyd, The Who, you know, your basic stuff." I focused on biting the inside of my cheek, hoping they believed me. It's true, after all, but no one ever believes me.
"Wow. A nerd who listens to Rock and Roll. Here I thought you'd be into that Donnie and Marie shit." Ronnie piped from the corner. "Hey, Ann, let's take this girl out around town sometime, alright? She's pretty cool."
Cool. That word struck an inner chord in my stomach. These guys thought that I was.... cool.