The Bad Boys of Summer Anthology(306)

Lisa knew that January was always pretty tough for me. Aside from July, it was the only other time of year when I relied a little heavier than usual on my surrogate mother, a woman who lived three houses down and went by the name of Stephanie DeSanto. Having Lisa off spending every minute with her boyfriend, she was depriving me of my much-needed quality time with her mom. I missed hanging out at the DeSantos’, having Mrs. D say things like, “There are my girls!” whenever Lisa and I came walking through the door.

I hated myself for feeling so selfish about everything, but once Lisa’s virginity status had finally been relegated to the history books, it was as though she and I were officially living on different planets. There she was, relaying this Big News and all I could think about was how it affected me. Thankfully, I shut up about it and she was able to remain unaware of my self-centeredness in regards to her life. I could have done without hearing all the intricate details of their every coupling, however, but maybe I would have felt that way regardless. I’d never really been the kind of girl who was ever comfortable discussing such intimate events in such excruciating detail.

Or maybe it was just that I didn’t have any intimate details to discuss.

I went out on a handful of dates with Cooper, but again, we found ourselves just kind of going through the motions. We were both aware that there wasn’t some storybook, fairytale ending awaiting the two of us and managed to strike a mutual, unspoken agreement about our romantic status. Basically, we liked each other a lot, and since neither one of us was dating anyone else, we decided to kill some time together.

Cooper was a huge help to me over those months, even if he wasn’t completely aware of it at the time. It was comforting to have a friend- a great-looking, charming friend- there to keep me from slipping down into a depressed, winter funk. Just the idea that an awesome guy like Cooper Benedict sought my company was enough to bolster my confidence.

Normally, after work on Friday nights, I’d bring a movie home, he’d come over and we’d stay in to watch it. Sometimes, we’d fool around a little, but only if the movie sucked so badly that it couldn’t hold our attentions.

When I finally figured I’d saved enough money for a car, it was Coop who took me from lot to lot, helping me do my homework and kicking the tires of every used car in the Northern New Jersey area. By the time we narrowed it down to two different front-runners, Dad stepped in to make sure I wasn’t being taken to the cleaners. I felt pretty proud that he’d stamped his approval on both cars, saying that I’d done good and was free to make my own choice between the two.

The first car was a Ford Mustang. It was candy-apple red, which was a little flashy for my taste, but it was also a convertible, which was a major check in the pro column. And each time I slipped behind the wheel, something just felt right. I loved the exhilarating grumble of the engine and the way I felt about myself when I had taken it out for a test drive. It would, however, also have sapped my entire budget, barely leaving me with enough scratch afterwards to buy a tank of gas. Plus, the leather seats had seen better days, the upholstery cracked all over and ripped clean through in a couple spots. I’d definitely have to use my next paycheck to invest in a couple seat covers.

Therefore, I’d been leaning heavily toward the Ford Taurus. Don’t be fooled into thinking it was boring and dull. It was a really good car with low mileage and under my budget, allowing me to hang onto a nice chunk of my hard-earned cash. It was black, too, which made it look a little cooler than if it was Grandma Blue or something like that. I liked it. It was a good, solid, dependable car.

I had worked for months at a job I could barely tolerate, socking away enough money for a car of my own. I’d kept a lid on any frivolous spending just for the opportunity to be in that position, the one I’d dreamt about forever. Obviously, I wasn’t planning to take the decision lightly.

All in all, I thought the Mustang was an excellent choice.





Chapter 21

STEPPING OUT



Spring came without fanfare at first, just a steady thaw of frozen earth, softening just enough to let the first crocus peek through and for a few birds to return to the neighborhood.

A few days after that, we were blessed with The First Nice Day.

There’s nothing quite like The First Nice Day in Jersey. It’s like we’ve all been released from cages or something, everyone jumping the gun on those opening rays of sunshine by wearing sunglasses and driving around with their windows down. I had taken advantage of my new convertible that day, taking the top down to drive around in barely sixty-five degree weather while pretending I wasn’t freezing my face off. Everyone’s music got played a little louder and their spirits got raised a little higher.

My spirits had certainly been raised; I’d received a few acceptance letters to some really good colleges- Swarthmore, Amherst... Dad’s beloved Northwestern. I’d jokingly applied to Harvard purely as a shot in the dark, so there was no big surprise when I found out I’d been rejected.

But the day I opened the mailbox and saw a big, fat envelope with an NYU stamp in the corner, I just about exploded through the front door, excited beyond belief to show my father. He was happy for me, but couldn’t see how I could turn down Northwestern for NYU. I made the case by reminding him that although I’d been drawn to Northwestern because of their creative writing program, there was no better place to get my artistic juices flowing than in the most amazing city in the world. Once I pointed out how much closer the commute home would be from the city than Chicago, I knew I had him sold. Dad dropped his subtle nudging for Northwestern once he realized I was sure I’d be happier in New York.

Besides, Lisa had been accepted to F.I.T., so we cooked up a plan to live in our respective dorms for a year or so, then go apartment hunting down in the village and move in together. Facing a big, strange city wasn’t going to be so bad with Lisa by my side. I didn’t think there was anything we couldn’t do so long as we were together.

Speaking of being together... Lisa and Pickford had broken up over Spring Break. Turned out, he was taking his recent rebellious phase to new levels and Lisa got caught in the maelstrom. Apparently, Dr. Redy had had his heart set on a Columbia education for his son. (Funny, but I don’t remember ever hearing about him pushing for Penelope to live up to any grand expectations.) In any case, Pickford decided to take UCLA up on their scholarship offer and play basketball for the Bruins rather than lay the groundwork for a career in medicine. The announcement had the intended effect of infuriating his father, who couldn’t even threaten to withhold tuition money anymore now that Pick had been offered a free ride.

The fallout, however, was that he’d be moving to the completely opposite end of the country from Lisa. She just went bonkers when she found out about the “stunt” he had pulled, and I’m sure her tirade even gave Dr. Redy’s anger a run for its money. Pickford tried appeasing her with promises of a long-distance relationship and by reminding her that they still had months together before they’d both be expected to go off to school, but Lisa wasn’t having any of it. She told him she didn’t see the point in staying together if they were just going to break up in a few months anyway.

Pickford really made a go of it, sending her flowers almost weekly and leaving love notes in her locker every day. I felt really badly for him, but my loyalties needed to lie squarely with Lisa. Don’t get me wrong, I felt just as awful for her. Probably more so, since I had to watch her fall to pieces every day. She never let anyone see how upset she truly was, but when it was just the two of us, she would totally let herself go, bawling like a child; red face, puffy eyes, runny nose and all.

I was more than willing to be the rock for my best friend, since usually our dynamic worked the other way around. Without seeming too detached or self-inflating about the situation, I gotta say, it was actually kinda nice to have the opportunity to return the favor.

I tried everything I could think of to get her mind off the breakup; renting cheesy movies, frying up some Elvis sandwiches (her favorite), taking her to the bowling alley where we were always able to con a few beers... I even went so far as to dig out my old sticker albums from the attic so she could take a whiff of my much-coveted popcorn scratch n’ sniff.

Nothing worked.

I figured she’d get through it in her own good time and that the only thing I could really do was just be there for her.

So, it caught me by surprise when one day in May, she just up and announced that we were going to the school’s Spring Musical. Bizarre, because normally, Lisa wouldn’t be caught dead at a school event that didn’t revolve around some sort of gladiatorial-type sporting affair. And the kids in the theatre group couldn’t possibly be at a more opposite end of the spectrum from the jocks.

But what I soon learned was that Penelope Redy was playing the part of Adelaide in the selected production of Guys and Dolls. Lisa and she had gotten pretty chummy over the past months, being that Penny was Pick’s twin sister and all. I thought it was a bit sadistic of Lisa to purposely put herself in the same room with not only Pickford, but most likely his entire family as well. I knew she blamed Dr. Redy for indirectly causing the breakup, and it’s not like he’d ever been the biggest fan of hers to begin with. But seeing as it was the first time she’d suggested leaving the house, I didn’t hesitate to agree to go with her.