October, Senior Year of High School
“Are you in this or not?” Polly asks as she pulls her hair up, twisting it and placing a clip to hold it back. She’s missed a strand and I tuck it back, shuffling my feet in front of my locker. I stare at the clump of hair, now behind one ear, because I know damn well if I look her in the eyes I’m done. Those big green eyes are the reason I started chasing her and the reason I asked her to be my girlfriend. I thought I was going to be one of those guys that played the field and sowed my oats as Mr. Walter called it in sixth grade when we got the sex education talk.
I’d seen what true love was like. My parents were crazy about each other, even after seventeen years of marriage their love was obvious. Love like that was beautiful and special, I assumed, but I also saw how much work it was. Every Monday my father brought home white roses, my mother’s favorites. On Tuesdays, they had a date night – every week, no matter what. On Wednesdays, they played tennis together at the country club in some couple’s league. I could go on and on… every day was spent showing their affection. Sounded fucking exhausting.
Sure, I wanted all of that eventually, but I was content to let love take a backseat until I looked into those mossy green eyes. Now I’m fucked, but I get it.
“‘Course I’m in this. What does my buying you a phone have to do with this?”
“Consider it my early birthday gift,” she says.
“I thought we were going to hang out Saturday, celebrate the big one-eight then.” My gift depends on that being true.
“Didn’t I tell you? I’m going to visit my sister this weekend in Phoenix. She wants me to meet her friends and they’re having a party so it’s sort of perfect. I can celebrate my birthday with my sister this year.”
Well, shit. Polly’s sister is just a year older and they’re close. It’s been hard for Polly since her sister went to college. I wait for her to invite me, put a silver lining on my ruined weekend, but she doesn’t.
She holds up her busted iPhone and then stands on her tiptoes to catch my eye and stick out her full, pouty lips. “My screen is cracked. Don’t you want me to be able to text you while I’m gone?”
“Of course I do, but—”
“Then what’s the problem? You can afford it.”
An unpleasant weight settles on my chest. Well technically I can’t, but she knows I could get the money from my parents. I’m not even sure what the big deal is. Add it to the list of expensive shit I’ve bought her in the six months we’ve been dating. But those had been gifts I’d wanted to give her. She’s never come right out and asked for something before and I don’t like the way it makes me feel used.
I turn and open my locker to pull out the gift I got her. Two front row tickets for Katy Perry this Saturday. Even got backstage passes because I know it’s my girl’s favorite singer.
Polly slides in front of me, blocking my access. “Come on, if you really loved me, you’d do this for me.”
She looks up at me with big eyes. The tickets are worth way more, plus I thought it was something cool we could do together. I don’t really like Katy Perry but figured her excitement would make it worth it.
I nod and close my locker shut behind her. “I’ll get it for you after school.”
She places a kiss on my cheek and rushes off. The bell rings and I let out a sigh as I re-open my locker and grab my biology book.
“Yo, Timmie.”
The guy two lockers down looks up at me like he’s surprised I know his name. “Got a girlfriend or boyfriend? Significant other?”
He’s still staring at me confused. “Yeah, I’m dating Cheri.”
“Really?” I can’t hide my surprise. Cheri’s head cheerleader and this guy… well, he doesn’t look like he could keep up with Cheri but guess I’ve misjudged him.
I pull out the tickets and toss them at him. He fumbles them, dropping his books in the process and making me embarrassed for him and also hopeful that maybe he can score some cool points with Cheri. Shit, maybe he doesn’t need them, he somehow already got her. Doesn’t matter, I don’t need them.
“Woah, thanks man,” he says as he looks them over and then tucks them into his pocket.
“No problem.”