Another Love Story

Chapter II: Summertime

BUZZZZ

My alarm goes off, the light is killing me, my head is pounding and my mother is yelling at me that it’s already lunch time. One thing is for sure, last night must have been one hell of a night. Too bad I can’t seem to remember half of it. As I roll out of bed and stammer around in the dark in search of clothes and clues, I trip and fall flat on my face. I knew I should have put my shoes in the corner of my room instead of the middle or I should have just turned on the light, that could have helped too. My second attempt at getting myself back together proved more successful. Just as I was about to pull open my bedroom door, I realised it would be better if I put some clothes on before hurling myself down the stairs and exposing myself to my mother’s revenge plot. I may or may not have puked on top of her price winning petunias. But there definitely would be hell to pay for drinking. My mother is the best mother you’ve ever met. She is cool, a friend in need but always and forever a mother first. She understands the pressure a teenager is under. And that from time to time a teenager might be seduced by the allure of the dark side, which often in tales alcohol consumption. As long as I use my brain, don’t do any drugs and get home safely, she is only mildly pissed off at me. As I search my closet for clothes I put on the first dress I find. Halfway down the stairs I stop, my little brother Brad is pointing and laughing at me. From experience I have learned, when my baby brother is laughing at me, I am so screwed. As it turns out, the dress was part of my Halloween costume from the year before. What was my costume you ask? Well, I dressed up as a Harley Quinn. Not that bad? Wait for it, Harley Quinn that turned killer clown… Do you get the picture? Hold your horses, it gets worse. Yes, I’m serious, it can get worse, much worse. Wait for it.

In retrospect, I should have turned around, went back upstairs and changed into normal people clothes. But how could I have known? How I beg you? How did it get worse you wonder? Well, you have been waiting for it. This is how it got worse. Remember how I was boasting about how we won the national championships with our school volleyball team? Yeah, well, about that, I had forgotten that the local paper wanted to do a follow-up interview on the team’s captain. The team’s captain, you ask? That would be yours truly. When did they want to do the follow-up you ask? As I reached the bottom of the stairs and my mother came round the corner to warn me about the reporter and photographer standing ready, I too remembered the time and place of the interview. And as I was about to spring back upstairs, my mother, who had been plotting revenge for my formidable behaviour the night before, loudly announced my presence and I was forced to appear in costume. Both the reporter and the photographer looked at me like I had just escaped from the asylum. Although I hadn’t escaped form one, I might be needing to spend some time in one after this. The reporter asked me all these questions and as the man desperately tried to focus on asking me questions about volleyball, in the end he couldn’t help himself. And as he timidly asked if I was making a statement with my outfit I couldn’t help but crack a smile. While my mother and little brother stood by, desperately trying not to laugh. I talked my way out of it. Seriously, the crap I spewed at that reporter and photographer, all in the name of not losing face, you would have been impressed. They were.

But come Monday morning, on the front page of the local news, there for all to admire, or should I say, just kill me now. My mother, the woman loves me to a fault, but man did she love it. Despite my extreme begging to use the picture from the volleyball game, they ran the photograph of me dressed in my Halloween costume. I don’t think anyone in town even read the article. But boy, did they all see the picture. And my loving mother, who in no way had unfinished business with me, got me the best birthday present you can imagine. Two weeks after the newspaper fail, it was my seventeenth birthday. That Saturday morning, I woke up to the biggest blow-up balloon of that front page picture you have ever seen. The best part? It was in colour and contained captions from all of my friends and loved-ones. Isn’t she just mother-of-the-year material? I do have to be honest, after the night I had, it did make me smile.

Now minutes after the ‘front-page-of-the-newspaper’-fail and two weeks before my birthday. Joy was at my door with a full report on what had happened the night before. And as she was annoyingly cheerful, I figured that she was sober the night before and had information to be used against me. Apparently, our gay bestie, Josh, decided that the only way to end our school year was with a pool party at his enormous house up in the woods. His parents had already left for their summer cruise and as he was an only child, we had the place to ourselves. Naturally, with a party comes access to alcohol and apparently there was no shortage. Obviously, I had indulged just a tad too much and had to be driven home whilst puking my guts out through the window of a moving car. Joy was laughing so hard she was crying at this point. She also proudly announced that if I didn’t believe her, she had proof. What kind of proof you ask? Why, pictures of course. Oh, thank God for the invention of electronic devices that only exist so they can be used against you. The photographical evidence was overwhelming to say the least, yes it was even worse than the newspaper photograph. And that is saying a lot, trust me. Just as Joy was about to go off on one of her story-telling rampages, I was saved by the doorbell. Josh was standing at my front door armed with a bottle of water and two aspirins. It is like he read my mind. Side note; why does it seem that the incredibly hot, extremely funny, caring, attentive and understanding boys always turn out to be gay? 

Turn out to be gay? Ah yes, way back when Josh and I met he wasn’t gay. Well, he was, he just hadn’t realised it yet. We met after a volleyball practice. I had never seen him before, and as I am an extremely sociable person I struck up a conversation. It certainly had nothing to do with the fact that he was obscenely handsome. It didn’t take long for me to find out that he had transferred from another school and had just joined the guy’s volleyball team. Maybe the whole volleyball thing should have tipped me off? Don’t know. I mean, I know a lot of players who aren’t guy. Trust me, the type of sport that you play, says nothing about your sexuality. Anyway, we hit it off. In what seemed no time, he became my best boy-friend. Not boyfriend, but a boy who is a friend. Get it? And for all the boys out there, sometimes being in the ‘friend zone’ isn’t the worst place to be, but granted, sometimes it is. When you get to know a girl, and within a week after meeting her, you know all of her secrets because she considers you to be someone worthy of her trust? Then, the friend zone is a good thing. If after a year you are still in it? You’ll die there. I’m sorry if that’s blunt, but it is the truth, hand to God. The whole friendship thing, with Josh it seemed magical. It wasn’t the ‘eyes lock from across the room, movie scene love’. It was more of an undeniable attraction. One way or the other, we were meant to be in each other’s lives. Within a week of meeting Josh, he knew my secrets and I knew his, or so I thought. We spent every free minute we had together. Joy said that even though it caused her pain, not being at the centre of my world, she was happy that I had found him. Little did I know what would follow would be a tale of woe. It didn’t take long or we were an item. Both Josh and I thought we had found a love that would last forever. In retrospect, we did. It just wasn’t the forever love we thought it would be. We didn’t foresee how a bond like ours could be broken. Then, Lucas moved to town.

Lucas, who is also known as, the blue-eyed, ashy-blond haired, ripped, godlike hottie. The dude became my mortal enemy within seconds. He hadn’t even said one word and I had already made up my mind about him. Something was off about that boy. I didn’t know it at the time, but maybe it was my subconscious trying to warn me, to prepare me for what was to come. I was fifteen when Lucas came into the picture, so Josh and I had been dating for a year and a half before it started to fall apart. Of course the demi-god, named Lucas, also played volleyball. He and Josh became teammates, and after only a few short weeks it felt like Josh had a new best friend. His world no longer revolved around me and I saw my carefully build dream world come tumbling down. I couldn’t seem to wrap my head around it. And as a fifteen-year-old hormonal girl it felt as if the world was ending. How could Josh’s friendship with Lucas be destroying our seemingly perfect relationship? Both Josh and I felt that something had changed between us and what seemed to bother me the most was that I got the impression that Josh was happier. Happier than I had ever seen him. And the farther he and I grew apart, the closer he got to Lucas and the happier he seemed. I think that was what hurt me the most. I wasn’t the reason for Josh’s bliss. We drifted apart as a couple and broke up not long after that. We tried to stay friends, but I don’t think I have to explain how staying friends with an ex isn’t always as easy as we would like it to be, or as wise for that matter. By the end of that school year Josh and Lucas had come out as a couple, the first gay couple at our school since ever. Josh didn’t blind side me with the news. As soon as he realised he was gay, he was at my door with a gallon of chocolate chipped ice-cream. We talked all through the night. A part of me was relieved, it wasn’t anything I did, I couldn’t have done anything differently, it wasn’t my fault. Josh told me everything I needed to hear. It didn’t heal my hearth, but it did start to mend after that night. And that wasn’t the only thing that started to mend, after Josh’s outing our friendship started to get back on track. I even got to know Lucas, as it turns out, he was kind of awesome. That’s how our group started to form. For a while we were the four musketeers; me, Joy, Josh and Lucas. 

After letting me down the two aspirins and the bottle of water, Josh devilishly asked me what I remembered of the night before. That got me thinking, both Joy and Josh seem to be very curious about my memory, or lack thereof. What did I do? More importantly, was it funny, embarrassing, mortifying, insane … I could go on for a while here. As Josh saw my face go from hangover expression to thinking expression, he felt it was time he intervened. Josh happily and enthusiastically shared the tale of how I majestically sang along with at least ten of the songs on his karaoke machine because I had lost a bet to Allison, the b***h I had to co-captain with for one horrendous volleyball season. The reason I got myself into that mess? Beer pong. Duh. Although I usually rock at that game, being a world class volleyball player of course, it is child’s play for me to wipe the floor with any opponent who dares to challenge me and my awesomeness. Maybe I shouldn’t toot my horn too much, seeing as there was a reason for my intoxication. At that point Joy joined in the fun by asking if besides the headache, I had any other aches. Turns out, I did. It was still unclear to me as how I had gotten a contusion the size of a watermelon on my lower back, but that didn’t stop Josh and Joy from getting the giggles at my expense. All I could do at that point was sit back and wait for them to finish. Although it felt as if it was coming back to me. 

OH MY GOD YOU BASTARDS. 

At that point both Joy and Josh froze, they knew that I knew what they didn’t want me to know. An expression of panic appears on both their faces as they wait for me to spill the beans on what I know. I pointed my figure and whispered; ‘You did this to me’. As hard as I tried to keep my mad face on, it was all too ‘wicked witch of the West’ and we all started laughing. It soon came to a halt when I continued my accusations. It was all their fault. All of it; the headache, the ringing in my head, the contusion on my back, the terrible picture of me in the newspaper, the revenge my mother enacted. As I saw the drops of sweat begin to form on Josh’s forehead I knew I had him by the balls. Figuratively speaking of course. Joy wasn’t far behind; I could tell by the profusely perspiring in the armpit area that she was only second away from breaking. And so, I started my tirade that proved Josh to be the instigator of the whole criminal night, that was only seconds before, a complete blur. When I arrived at Josh’s ridiculously large mansion in the woods, he handed me a drink. It’s non-alcoholic, he said. Because it was going to be a long night, he said. We didn’t want to rush anything, he said. It was like the freaking raven who wouldn’t stop screeching ‘nevermore’. Those non-alcoholic drinks? They contained enough alcohol to incapacitate a rhinoceros. Those beverages tasted and went down like lemonade but hit like a punch from Mohammed Ali. In other words, they will knock you the f**k out. It took only two of them before I got the brilliant idea to do a backflip of the diving board into the pool. Of course, that brilliant idea had been fed to me by none other than Joy. That b***h. Only one problem, well let’s be honest, there was more than one problem with that idea. First was; I had no idea how do a backflip, let alone do a backflip. Second problem was the matter of the diving board. Third and probably worst problem; I was intoxicated. And that, ladies and gents, is how I got a contusion the size of a watermelon on my lower back. Being slightly hammered and convinced of the fact that I could do anything I put my mind to, I ended up face first in the pool and needed to be saved from drowning by Kurt. You would realise how bad this was if you knew Kurt. In a nutshell; the arrogant jock who had vowed to sleep with all the girls worth nailing in our school. Yeah, that guy. After that humiliation it was time for beer pong to finish me off. Seeing as I was so out of it, I didn’t see double but quadruple, it didn’t take long for me to lose to Queen b***h Allison. This in turn led to my memorable and magical performance on Josh’s kitchen table, filmed by all and shared on f*******: by many. Apparently, I was having the time of my life, or so I sang. And I loved it so much, they didn’t get me down from that kitchen table until 10 songs later. By then I was a goner. I could barely stay up right. In case you hadn’t guessed. I don’t drink that often. Honestly, I don’t really drink period. So getting drunk wasn’t that hard, staying on both feet was impossible. Being the responsible friends that they are, Josh and Joy wanted to make sure I got home okay. They didn’t take on the responsibility themselves, of course not. They wouldn’t be caught dead with drunk me, or cleaning up my puke. No, they asked Mary and Tim to take me home.

Mary and Tim have been an item since kindergarten. When Mary and her family moved to our town, Tim couldn’t accept the fact that he couldn’t see Mary anymore because she moved to the next town. So he ran away from home to look for her. The police found him after about an hour and took him home. But little Tim was determined and he just kept on running away from home. His parents were at a loss. Eventually they decided to give little Tim what he wanted and they also moved to our town. Insane right? Well, completely insane but also kind of cute at the same time. What probably bothers me most is the fact that Tim’s parents caved. Isn’t that parenting 101; when your child is acting like a complete i***t, don’t give into the madness? Anyhow, Mary and Tim have been inseparable ever since. They are dedicated to one and other. And at the age of ten, I had made the mistake of inviting them to our lunch table, because I felt sorry that they only had each other. Joy never really forgave me, because ever since that lapse in judgment they had appeared at our lunch table every day. Apparently that invitation was the equivalent of asking them to be our friends for life. Don’t get me wrong, there nice enough people, but there the friends that hang out with the group without really being a part of it. The ones who you forget to invite, not because you want to be mean, but just because you don’t really care about what the hell they do. On the other hand, they are always there if you need them. Kind of sounds like they drew the short stick of the friendship, didn’t they? Well, at least they had each other. That always seemed to be enough for them. Although they do come in handy from time to time, like last night. They were the responsible teenagers that drove me home while I puked all over Tim’s dad’s car. You know what they did after letting me puke all over that car? They apologised for the bumpy ride, told me not to worry about the mess and tucked me in. Makes us look like a bunch of asshole friends right? Right. Also makes Joy and Josh seem like the worst friends ever.

At the end of my rampage both Joy and Josh were waiting for the hammer to come down. A metaphorical one of course, a real one would just be silly. Or would it be? I could go judge Judy on their asses. No, silly, definitely silly. After going over the entire night in my head and vamping my frustrations, the only thing I really wanted from them was an explanation. Why? For the love of God, why? Did I piss them of? Did I do something wrong? What did I do to deserve this?

Joy’s scared face turned into a ‘I’m genuinely concerned for you face’, and so did Josh’s. Joy confessed that she, Josh, Lucas and even Tim and Mary all agreed that something needed to be done. Josh continued that they realised that I had given up a lot for my friends, my school and my sport. All for the love of it. Agreed that I had had a hard not life from time to time, but I was dealing. They didn’t agree and argued that with senior year only a few months away, they were worried that I wasn’t living my life to the fullest. Joy pointed out that Josh was my last relationship, and he’s been gay all the way for more than two years now. I aced all my courses, won the national championships with my team, made team-captain third year in a row (that’s a school record by the way), loved by all but seemed to be forever alone. 

Forever alone.

That just resonates. Doesn’t just strike a nerve, it punches you in the gut when you are already down. Basically Josh, Joy and the rest of the group wanted to show me that they cared. Granted, last night might not have been the right way to do so, but their intentions were good. Not the execution… That still needs work. But that should count for something, shouldn’t it? Fine, but I’m still plotting revenge for the hell of it. After they left, I couldn’t help but think that maybe they were right. Could it be that for once in a blue moon, Josh and Joy were right? It hadn’t happened so far, so statistically speaking the numbers were in their favour. The benefit of the doubt I recon. So I started thinking, had I put my life on hold? And if I had, why? What was I so scared of? What did I have to fear? Maybe it’s that for as long as I can remember, the men in my life that I love always seem to leave me in one way or the other. 

My father was my best friend. He was the best dad in the world, and I’m not just saying that. He always put me and my needs first. He took care of my mother like she was a queen. I loved that about him, especially because logically it made me a princess. But on that dark night in March four years ago I went from princess to jester. Or at least it felt like my life turned into a joke when police showed up at our doorstep. The police at your door is never good, you know that they will be the bearers of bad news. And as they told us that my father had been in a terrible car accident it all went dark. As I came to, I saw my mother in tears and my baby brother not understanding what was going on. My mother told us to put on some shoes, we were going to the hospital. On our way there I started to pray, pray that my father would be okay. As the police didn’t tell us anything, we should have known. Upon arrival at the hospital a doctor was waiting for us. My father had been intubated to help him breathe. But due to the accident his brain had swollen up to the point where it got too big for his skull. They had to put him in a chemically induced coma. Doctors didn’t leave much to the imagination when they told us to say our goodbyes. My mother remained seemingly calm as she filled in the paperwork so they could harvest organs to save others. The last image I have of my father is one where he has a tube shoved so far down his throat it made you wonder how it was helping him breathe. Until it didn’t. With the flip of a switch the machines slowly stopped working and as the lights dimmed on those mechanical instruments, so did the light in my father. Death comes in threes, or so they say. Four weeks after we buried my father, grandfather died. The grief of losing his only son seemed to have been too much for the old man to bare. Even though he had lived a long and happy life, it doesn’t make his passing easier to deal with. Pops, was what we called him, had been omnipresent after father died. He took over the household chores and fixed everything that was broken around and in the house. He had been our rock. But it had been hard on him, he had lost his wife the year before and now he had buried his only son. I think his invasion into our house had been a way for him to keep busy. For only a week after moving back into his own home, he passed away in his sleep. Another month, another funeral. That was strike two for men and the second death we had to deal with in a short amount of time. As I had already said it is to be believed that death comes in threes. The third death was that of our family cat. Of all three deaths this was the one we were best equipped to handle, seeing as the old girl had been around for thirteen years and had lived the good life ever since we had rescued her from the animal shelter. Not to diminish the pain that comes with losing a loved pet, it is nothing compared to the loss of a parent or a loved one. So three deaths in two months. Yeah, I’ve had about enough now. After all the loss I put up a wall. For protection, against all what was wrong and all the pain that comes with living in this world. In retrospect, this might have been the moment that instigated the whole barrier between me and the rest of the world. It was probably also the moment I started to believe no man would ever get close to me again. Then I met Josh. And we all know how that went. That was strike three for men. So maybe I started to avoid having influential men in my life, men that could make a difference, men that could become important to me. Or maybe it’s all just a heap of bull with a side of s**t. 

Living in the past or dwelling on it won’t solve anything. So I guess it is decided. I will tell Josh, Joy, Lucas, Tim and Mary to stick it where the sun does not shine. Yes, life has dealt me a crappy hand. But it’s not like I’ve gone all in and am left with nothing. Sometimes you win some and sometimes you lose some. Up until now, I’ve just lost a lot. My luck is bound to change at one point or another, that is a statistical certainty. I can’t just sit around, waiting for faith to intervene and send me a knight in shining armour to come and save me or turn things around for the better. That just sound stupid, doesn’t it? We all read the fairy tales, we all want the fairy tale, but at the same time we realise that a fairy tale isn’t real. It is up to me to save myself.

Okay, let’s take a step back. My friends and I, we make it sound as if my life is a total disaster. And at times it is. But overall, I don’t think it’s that bad. I do great in school; I get straight A’s, I’m adored by all teachers and fellow pupils. I have great friends who do love me but from time to time act like jerks. I excel in my sport; we won the national championships and I’ve been voted team captain for three years straight. I have a loving home and family that support me in everything I do and never pass up an opportunity to embarrass me or drive me crazy. When you sum it up like that, it doesn’t seem to be so bad, does it now? Granted, I have suffered a great deal of loss in my short time on this world, but I realise that there are people out there who have it worse. Although I do find myself wondering where life will take me. If I’ll ever feel like a princess again and if I’ll meet a knight in shining armour. If there is such a thing as faith that promises that if you are a good girl and play by the rules, that life has a way of working out. I guess I do want to believe that fairy tales can become a reality and that it could happen to me. There is no sense on dwelling on the matter. Let’s be clear, I don’t believe in a magical solution to all of my problems, as if just because I decide to open myself up to it luck will be on my side. But I’m no scrooge. I refuse to be a scrooge. 

On to a lighter, happier note; summer is here, in two weeks’ time I will officially turn seventeen, just one more year until I can officially be called an adult. The weather is great and next week we kick of the summer in style at the yearly summer festival. Dancing, tomfoolery, mischief, some good old fun. Just what the doctor prescribed.