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Sure, I was growing up. Did that explain my pathetic ìgrown-upî life
so far?
The only thing that really bothered me was the fact that I couldnít
get a girl for the life of me. Time after time, Iíd start liking a girl,
but none of them ever wanted anything to do with me. I stood and watched
from the shadows as Laura hooked up with my best friend Jason, Kylie got
together with that dumb asshole Mick (who couldnít tell a chemistry book
from a trombone, but could catch a football standing on his head with eyes
closed and hands tied behind his back), Johanna wound up going out with
KennyÖ even Amy, whom I had heard had a crush on me, wound up taking Dan,
my stupid fifteen-year-old brother, of all people, to Sadieís last
November.
I think my parents finally realized just how pitiful the situation
had gotten, because that day as I got home from school, my mom greeted me
with, ìWouldnít it be just lovely to throw a little birthday party for you
on Saturday?î
I pushed past her and walked into the kitchen. ìI ëunno,î I
muttered, opening the fridge and taking out a jar of peanut butter. ìWhy
would I want a birthday party?î
ìDonít be silly, Jeremy!î My mom chuckled, handing me the bread,
which I declined. ìItís been so long since we had a nice party for you.î
I rummaged through the utensil drawer for a spoon, which, upon
locating, I dug into the peanut butter. ìIím notth reallyth a partyth
thype perthonth,î I mumbled around a mouthful of the creamy goodness.
ìBesidesth, areníth partieth exthpenthiveth?î Damn peanut butter.
Mom took the peanut butter away from me. ìDonít be a barbarian,î she
chided, then changed her tone of voice. ìBut it wouldnít have to be a big
partyÖ just a few friends over. Maybe some nice girls! We could put on
music, and you kids could dance!î Her tone crescendoed as she grew more
and more excited. ìYou still like music, donít you?î
ìI see whatís going on here,î I snapped (maybe a bit too harshly),
cranky due both to her idea and her confiscation of my after-school snack.
ìYouíre trying to set me up with some chick so I can start dating.î
ìI just hate to see you alone when your brother is so happy with
Amy.î
Well, isnít that just wonderful for him? I paused, glaring at her.
ìFine,î I muttered grudgingly. ìSure, have a party. But gimme back the
peanut butter.î
ìHave an apple,î she called cheerily over her shoulder as she exited
the room.
That week at school was quite possibly the longest week ever. Every
time I wasnít totally concentrating on schoolwork (which was less often
than I probably should), my thoughts would shift to my impending birthday.
Iím gonna be an adult, I thought. I can do whatever the hell I want. I
might have become completely distracted except for one sunspot on my
shining mood: the party. The glorious celebration of one average guyís
coming-of-age and pathetic lack of a girlfriend. Sure, I wasnít happy with
the way things were going now, but, as much as I wanted someone like that
in my life, I wasnít keen on the idea that my mother was planning a huge
shindig specifically for the purpose of finding someone to go out with me.
And she was planning a huge soirÈe. Sheíd somehow appointed herself Grand
High Master Of Jeremyís Birthday Party Guest List, and I had people coming
up to me every five seconds, telling me how excited they were about my
party. How did all these people know me? I didnít even know half of their
names. My mom must have gone through the entire school directory and
called everyone whose parents she knew from PTA. Jocks, cheerleaders, half
the calculus club, band geeks and choir freaks, dramaticans and thespiansó
everyone was coming.
Good thing we lived in a large house. I had a feeling everyone in
Seattle was going to be there Saturday night.
When I awoke on Saturday, the sight of Miss May in her aquamarine
bikini informed me that May 3rd had arrived. I was finally eighteen. An
adult! I had finally broken through the bonds of childhood. Eighteen
years and Iím free at last. Today was the first day of the rest of my
life.
It was also the day of my party. Oh, joy.
I spent most of the day helping my mom buy food, and dreading the
minute eight oíclock would arrive. At precisely 7:59, the doorbell rang
and the first guest appeared. She stood on my welcome mat for a minute,
strawberry blonde curls waving in the gentle breeze, before she entered. As
she handed me my gift, wrapped in a small square box with silver paper, I
noticed her fingernails were painted the exact same shade of celery green
as the sweater twinset she wore. I saw that when she lifted her head to
say, ìHappy birthday, Jeremy,î they matched the hue of her long-lashed and
barely-tainted-with-eye shadow eyes.
This girl goes to my school? I thought angels only existed in
Heaven.
The doorbell began ringing nonstop after that, but I let my mom
handle it. It was her stupid party, after all. I took the girl into the
living room, where the stereo was blasting Me First and the Gimme Gimmes.
I offered her some punch and hot wings.
ìHey, whatís your name? Iíve never seen you around school,î I asked,
attempting to initiate conversation.
ìAngelique.î She smiled sweetly, accepting the drink I held out to
her. She took a sip, and then set the cup down on a nearby table. My mind
told me that there was an ever-increasing flow of people entering my house,
dancing in my living room, eating food in my kitchen, and hanging out in my
backyard. But I couldnít have cared less. There was only one person there
as far as I could telló the amazing Angelique of mysterious origin.
ìDo you, uh, want to dance, Angelique?î I asked, trying to screw my
jaw back into place. She nodded shyly, wrapping her arms around my neck,
as we stepped in tandem away from the punch table. I placed my own hands
around her slight waist and we began to sway back and forth to the music of
Sarah McLachlan. I started to draw her tentatively closer, but she pulled
away.
ìJust a second,î she said, shrugging her sweater off and flinging it
gently onto my cream-colored leather couch. Then, she nestled herself back
into my arms, more intimately than before. ìMuch better,î she murmured in
my ear. We resumed our dance, barely moving at all as we basked in the
comfort of each other. After a few minutes, she rested her delicate chin
on my shoulder and sighed deeply. I sighed as well, inhaling her warm
scent of jasmine and gingeró letting it fill me until I felt as though I
might burst and exude happiness.
The song had changed several times by that time, from fast to slow
and back again, but we maintained our positions. I couldnít believe my
luck; on my eighteenth birthday, at my own party arranged by my own stupid
mother, I found the girl of my dreams. Why hadnít I ever seen her at
school before? Our high school was relatively small, and I knew most of my
senior class (especially considering it was May by that point). Now I knew
why those guys on TV always said that clichÈ line: ìWhere have you been all
my life?î
I didnít have much longer to stay in my reverie, however, because at
that moment, I felt her beginning to lift her head. She brushed her nose
against my cheek and, raising her head a tiny bit higher, brought her lips
to mine. Thenó she kissed meó hesitantly at firstó but when she discovered
that I was going to be receptive (and, believe me, I was very receptive),
she leaned into it. I met her touch with equal force, as if pressing
harder would enable me to take her into myself so that our bodies and
hearts could join as one, in perfect harmony. I was so enthralled by what
was happening that I didnít even realize how corny my thoughts would have
sounded to my ears under normal circumstances. Youíre just a hopeless
romantic deep down, arenít you, Jeremy? Shut up, I told myself mentally.
Itís my first kiss, dammit.
I was just about to explore going farther (perhaps a little something
involving tongue? Jeremy, you sly dog, you) when she abruptly pulled away.
ìOh, my God,î she muttered somewhat breathlessly, face flushed pink. ìItís
almost midnight.î
ìSo?î I asked, leaning forward for another taste of heaven.
She pushed me away gently. ìIímó Iím sorry, but I have to go.
Midnight is my curfew; if Iím not home by twelve on the dot, my dadís gonna
kill me!î I must have looked crestfallen, because she apologized again.
ìIím really sorry. Iíve gotta go.î
ìNo!î I grasped both of her hands, refusing to let her out of my
sight. ìNo, Iíve just met youÖ youíreó youíre perfect! AngeliqueÖî Her
eyes were brimming with tears, and for just an instant, she stopped trying
to get away and I actually thought I might keep her for just a few more
minutes. Or days, or weeksÖ But the moment faded, and she began to
struggle slightly. ìAt least let me drive you home!î I pleaded. ìI can
drive after midnight now, you know. Iím eighteen.î
ìI brought my own car,î she said tearfully. ìButÖ Jeremy, I have to
go now. If I leave this second, Iíll just barely make it home on time.î
She held my gaze for a few seconds, then drew herself close to me and
kissed me deeply, as if she were giving me her soul through mouth-to-mouth
resuscitation. I felt myself truly coming to life for the first time, yet
my energy and joy were simultaneously being drained. What if I never saw
her again? I became dizzy as the thought seized my heart and drove a stake
into it. To steady myself, I leaned harder into her. I am never going to
let you go. Never, never, never.
She broke away again. ìI have to go now, Jeremy.î And just as
simply as that, she turned on her heel and walked toward the front door.
ìWait!î I called after her. I weeded my way through the throng of
people congregated in my living room until I reached the front door and
flung it open. ìAngelique!î She waved at me from the curb and then
disappeared as her metallic sapphire BMW swallowed her whole and carried
her off. ìI love you!î I screamed into the wind. But it was no use.
She was already gone.
My mom told me the guests left soon after Angelique had. I wouldnít
know, seeing as how I spent the rest of the evening in my roomó I hadnít
even bothered to open my presents. It seemed so unreal. I hadnít even
gotten her phone number, for crying out loud. All I knew was her name and
what kind of car she drove. Did she even exist anywhere but my
imagination?
I didnít have a clue how much time had passed; all I knew was that it was
Monday morning of the next week by the time my mom knocked on my door to
check on me.
ìJeremy?î She said softly, entering my room. ìOne of your friends
left this. You might want to take it to school and see whom it belongs
to.î She threw something at me. I didnít see what it was, since I was
facedown on my bed at that point, but I felt it land squarely on top of my
shoulder blades. A faint hint of jasmine and ginger wafted gently over me,
and I didnít have to look at it to know it was the celery-green cashmere
sweater that belonged to the girl I loved.
I heard the door close, and my motherís footsteps grew fainter as she
descended the staircase outside my door. Sitting up on my bed for the
first time in what seemed like ages (well, a day and a half, anyway) made
me a little woozy. I pressed Angeliqueís sweater into my face and inhaled
deeply. Just what I wanted to deal with: School. The end of senior year
was fast approaching and there was so much to get done, but that no longer
mattered to me. Nothing mattered at all to me anymoreó except her. As if
I could really focus on going to school.
School! That was it! Since everyone from the party had been from my
school, she had to be there! Suddenly, I bolted for the shower, cleaned
up, tucked the precious sweater into my backpack, and ran downstairsó
grabbing a granola bar off the kitchen table. (ìHey, Bro!î cried Dan,
ìThatís mine!î) I sprinted to my car, pausing only long enough for Dan to
catch up (I did have to give the brat a ride to school every day, much as I
detested that job). Not one millisecond after heíd clicked his seat belt
into place, I pressed the pedal to the metal and set off for school. I
pulled into the first parking spot I saw and leapt out of my car, eyes
frantically searching the horizon for any sight of her. That long,
flowing, reddish-blonde hair, those pale green eyes, that slender figureó
anything! My whole body ached for her; my heart yearned to find that which
made me feel complete.
All that day I was on constant lookout for my Angelique. Suddenly,
my school was full of people who were the enemyó if they werenít Angelique,
they might as well not even be living as far as I was concerned. I hadnít
noticed it before, but there were an awful lot of kids at that school with
strawberry blonde hair.
I cornered a girl coming out of the room next to mine. ìHey, were
youó?î I began but stopped when I met the girlís confused brown-eyed stare.
ìNever mind.î Whirling around, I saw a slender girl with a green
backpack. Her hair was slightly on the short side, but it was still golden
with the hint of pinkish-orange in it. ìAre youó?í I demanded, putting my
hand on her shoulder and turning her around forcefully. She wore glasses
and shiny metal braces on her teeth. Not her. ìSorry, Iím looking for
someone else.î
Had I only been searching for a day? It felt like a lifetime. After
my last class, I was just about to give up hope when I saw a head of
strawberry curls peeking out from a large crowd of people gathered around
one classroom down the hall, probably waiting for test grades to be posted
on the door. ìAngelique!î I called. ìHey, Angelique!î She didnít turn
around. ìAngelique!î I screamed again. Several people turned to see who
was making that horrible racket, but she didnít. ìItís me, Jeremy!
Angelique!î
My approach wasnít working. I started forward, struggling upstream
against current of students heading toward the buildingís exit. Wading
through a sea of (mostly) freshmen, I finally managed to make my way over
to where she was standing. Her back was still turned to me. ìAngelique!
I have your sweater!î I said breathlessly, tapping her on the shoulder. My
heart swelled with elation at the thought of holding her in my arms again.
She turned around slowly. And vanished.
I did a double-take. Were my eyes playing tricks on me? I found
myself staring into the eyes of Jason, my best friend in the world since
kindergarten.
ìWható?î I asked frantically. ìWhere is she? She was just here!î
My eyes darted over the faces of the people now beginning to surround me.
She was gone!
ìHey, calm down, man,î Jason said with a puzzled look on his face.
ìWhatís going on?î
My stomach turned to dry ice. ìAngelique!î I cried hysterically.
ìWhereíd she go?î
ìDude, chill.î Jason placed his hand on my shoulder and guided me to
a nearby bench, out of the way of all the staring people. ìWhoís
Angelique?î
ìI just saw her! I just saw her!î I insisted, my whole body
beginning to shake. ìShe was right there!î
ìHey, whoa there, man. Get a grip, Jer.î Jason pushed me down onto
the bench and shook my shoulders. ìYouíre seeing things. Maybe you
partied a little too hardy over the weekend or something. She ainít here.î
ìShe was!î I persisted.
Jasonís face lit up like a light bulb. He knows whom Iím talking
about! Then, just as suddenly, he frownedó as if heíd suddenly been told
two plus two equaled five. ìWhat the hell are you smoking, man?î
Rivulets of perspiration streamed down my cheekbones. Why doesnít he
remember her? ìHave you seen her? Do you know where she went?î
Jason sighed heavily, shaking his head. ìMan, I donít know. I donít even
know who youíre talking about. You were pretty out of it, though.î
Oh, my God. You think Iím crazy. ìThatís why I went to go lie
down,î I lied in an attempt to save face. ìI was pretty tired.î I closed
my eyes to illustrate my point, but instead of peaceful relief, I was met
by visions of Angelique dancing before my eyes. Peridot eyes, cascades of
strawberry blonde ringlets falling down her backÖ I vividly recalled
running my fingers through them, caressing the waves as if they were
Angelique herself. I could feel her lips against mine again, testing out
the waters before deciding it was safe to jump in. How could Jason not
remember her? I couldnít forget.
ìHey, you feeling okay?î Jasonís voice interrupted my thoughts.
ìYou look kinda bad.î
I ran a shaky hand across my forehead. It came away drenched.
ìWhere is she?î Those were the only words willing to come out of my mouth.
ìWhereíd she go?î
Jason scooted over on the bench, so he was two inches farther away
from me. ìHey, man, there were a lot of girls at that partyÖ I was dancing
with Laura the whole timeó I didnít see who you were with.î
ìYou think Iím a nut case, donít you?î My voice was ragged, and
cracked on the word ìcaseî, making me sound like a thirteen-year-old.
Jason shrugged. ìI dunno,î he said simply. ìI gotta run, though.
Canít be late for soccer practice. See ya.î He walked away without
further explanationó neither for his sudden desire to leave, nor for
Angeliqueís inexplicable disappearance from everywhere except my own mind.
There were so many questions left unanswered. Would it have worked
out? Would she have turned out to be the girl I thought she was? I
pounded my fist against my knee. Had she even existed in the first place?
The thought entered my mind before I could prevent it.
Of course she existed. I spent the entire night with her. It was
the most wonderful night of my life.
I love her.
But how can you fall in love with something thatís not real?
I felt like a dump truck had just poured a vat of cement onto my
chest. My world was ending. My entire life, eighteen years and two days,
came crashing down around me as I realized I would never get to see her
again. Slowly, I opened my backpack and took out the sweater. All of a
sudden, the pale emerald wrap seemed to lose its vibrancy. All that was
left was an empty shell of what used to be.
Just like me, I thought before I buried my face in it and let the
tears flow.
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