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My face falls immediately.
“Oh my gosh. I can’t believe you’re leaving me for college,” I whine.
She pouts her lips at me briefly.
“I know. We’ve been inseparable and now I’m moving like two hours away. But it’s okay, because thanks to my new graduation present I’ll be able to come home every weekend!”
I look at her skeptically, pursing my lips. She side-eyes me and starts laughing, “Okay every other weekend. And you know you can always come visit me. I know starting at Remford Community College wasn’t your first choice, but it’s definitely a much cheaper option than what I’m doing. You should be happy.”
I nod.
“No, it’s fine. I don’t really know what I want to do so it doesn’t make sense for me to go to a four-year school yet. I can just knock out my prereqs at community college while I figure out what’s next.” I lean my head back and look at the window, watching the fields pass by as we zoom to the high school.
Marcella nods.
“Don’t worry, you won’t be stuck there forever. Just enough for you to figure out what you want to do. And besides, you’ve seemed so much more chipper…I dunno…happier, like your parents aren’t bothering you like they normally are. Did you finally go out with Charlie? Is that the reason?”
I shake my head ruefully.
“Gross, no way. Charlie Treason is definitely not in the picture. I don’t care that we’ve lived around the corner from each other our whole lives. That’s not divine intervention. I don’t care how many times he asks me out, the answer will always be no, and a hell no too.”
She giggles at me. “Okay, okay. I’ll admit, Charlie is a hard pass. Too goofy and nerdy. Besides one of your ass cheeks is as big as both of his legs together!”
We crack up at poor Charlie’s expense. I’ve lived around the block from Charlie my whole life, so we’ve always been in the same class. He’s a sweet kid, with thick, coke-bottle glasses and a perpetually red face. Unfortunately, puberty was not so kind to him, and he’s also a mess of acne, braces, and glasses with tape in the middle. His greasy red hair flops in his face and his stutter makes it impossible to get through a conversation.
But Charlie’s crushed on me for years, and the boy finally got up the nerve to ask me on a date. It was awful. I said no, as gently as I could, but he’s refused to give up. Since then, he has asked me out once a month and every time I give him the same easy let down.
Marcella sighs.
“Okay then, well, what about Bud Koolhouse? He’s been in your face lately, plus y’all went to prom together! He’s the hottest guy in school and you’re not even interested. Plus, you blew him off when he asked you to the movies after prom? Bud is Iowa State’s new starting QB, by the way. What is wrong with you?”
I twist my lips at her. Marcella’s had a crush on Bud since forever, and I know she’s just a tiny bit jealous he asked me to prom, and not her. As a result, I try to moderate my response.
“Prom was fun, don’t get me wrong, and I’m sure Bud has a bright future ahead of him. But that was high school and I’m past that.”
Marcella cocks her head quizzically at me. I know I’m not making any logical sense. Any girl would kill to be in my position when it comes to Bud Koolhouse. Heck, many middle-aged women with babies and jobs would likely love the opportunity to be with Bud, but I can’t. Not when I have Brady on my mind. I see the confusion on Marcella’s face and decide to fess up to get her off my back.
I turn and look at her sheepishly. Taking a deep breath, I say, “Okay, it’s not Charlie, and it’s not Bud. I’m just distracted because…I’m in love!” I gush, closing my eyes and sinking back into the seat.
She looks at me wide eyed.
“Whaaat??? You’re dating someone and I didn’t even know? Who? When? Where? How? Whaaat?”
“I’m dating my neighbor!” I tell her excitedly.
She pauses for a moment, thinking.
“What neighbor? Mr. Joe? You’re dating Mr. Ankle Weights?!?” she asks, cracking up with laughter. “No way!”
I smack her playfully on the arm. “No silly, I’m dating my next door neighbor, Brady Firestone. Remember the hot soldier who lives next door? He’s been in Afghanistan for the last year, but he’s coming home soon and I’m so excited!”
“How the hell are you dating an old ass man that lives in Afghanistan?” she asks me incredulously.
I get defensive.
“He’s not that old. And well, we send letters, emails, and have even had a few phone calls. At first, they started out like really raunchy and sexy, but then we started talking about real stuff and fell in love.”
