(01) Sidetracked

There’s at least one night in every teen’s life when you’re too lazy to go out with friends, only reruns flash on the TV, and the food stocked in the cabinets just isn’t that appealing anymore. Maybe it’s a school night when Mr. Hammond didn’t give you any biology homework, or the night before a huge party that you’re aching to go in order to see that special someone who sits behind you in Algebra.

Perhaps it’s a night when a date canceled, or a best friend is sick. Whatever the night may be, it suddenly hits you in the face and leaves you as bored as a kid watching grass grow.

There isn’t any way to prepare for it, no coping mechanisms. You just have to stare anxiously at the clock in your kitchen, waiting for the hours to pass, another part of an eager teenager’s life. It was such a night for me just last month.

I was sitting on the plaid couch in the family room, flipping from MTV to NBC to ABC to even the Disney Channel. It was just a lazy Saturday night so of course there was nothing. Just as I had clicked to a documentary on camels, my father bounded down the stairs, keys in hand and announced cheerfully that he had an urge to go for a drive in his car. He slipped on his faded brown top siders and asked me, eyeing the TV, if I wanted to join him on his little adventure. Glancing back at the camels, I opted for the drive, even if it was my dad.

As I hopped into the navy BMW, I looked up at the cloudy sky and decided it was a night for wasting time. It was time to go places a person would never admit going or even want to go on a regular time schedule. It was time for my dad and I to hit the town and live life to the fullest.

As my dad and I passed tons of stores, we decided to let the car and the road take us to where we were going. Breathlessly we waited for that certain place to suddenly sock us and cause my dad to slam on the breaks and turn into its parking lot.

Oh, the places we went that night, not a care in the world, no limited time. No place was too tacky and not worth entering. Pointless department stores, simply scary clothing stores that contained hardly clothes, over which we had to bite our lips to stop us from falling over laughing inside. We passed small hangouts for colorful, odd-looking people who smoked and stared at us suspiciously as we tried to make a solemn face.

The night was long and we both felt young, our only stop for reality being when we dropped a large, hot fudge sundae off at the house for my mother. I didn’t want it to end. It was kind of like when you help yourself to a large piece of chocolate cake but then need just one more tiny sliver to satisfy you just a little bit more after you finished the last huge, delicious piece.

My dad insisted on coming up with that last small sliver for the night. As he ran upstairs to give Mom the ice cream, he told me it would be a surprise. Having no faith that my dad would resist the image of his bed at 10:30, I was pleasantly relieved when I heard him say, “Back in a bit, Hon,” as he came back down the carpeted stairway. With my heart still beating with suspense, we jumped back into the Beemer and headed off for more fun.

It seemed like ages as we passed many stores, entered on the highway and suddenly entered a podunk town with peeling painted buildings and some of the street lights dimmed.

It began to rain and the splashes of the drops made the windows blurry. I looked questioningly at my father but he just patted my knee and smiled. Suddenly he turned into a parking lot of a restaurant called Sidetracks.

As we entered the doors he explained that when he and my mom were first married they had gone here to eat almost every day because just down the road was where my mom had worked. I glanced around and saw that the theme of a railroad station was everywhere. Lights flashed from blinking traffic lights and signs. Guys laughed noisily from the nearby bar and the waiters and waitresses sat talking on a stairwell in front of us.

One of the girls showed us to a table with two seats. Glancing at another table, I noticed a blond guy with a slightly oversized nose.

We ordered one of the largest plates of nachos I had ever seen with beans, chili, every kind of gooey cheese, peppers, and salsa with a dollop of sour cream on top.

While trying to make a dent in this monstrous pile of chips and toppings, my dad leaned over and whispered something about the guy in front of us looking at me. I laughed as I picked up a tortilla chip covered in chili. Outside the wind howled and lightening flashed.

“I really want the power to go out in here,” I tell my dad, smiling and thinking about the excitement a power outage would bring to the whole scene.

A couple of minutes later, lightning flashed again and the lights in the restaurant went out.

“Looks like you got everything you wanted out of tonight, Honey,” my dad said.

I smiled at him, thinking to myself that I really had gotten everything I wanted that night.

While sitting there, hearing about my dad’s past and having him tell me a guy is checking me out in the dimmed restaurant, with a pile of nachos that I can’t possibly eat, I realized that sometimes staying home on a weekend isn’t that bad.

Sure maybe the guy sharing the nachos in front of me is my dad, but I realized, there’s always time to look at your busy teenage life and take the sidetracks for a night on the town with the friends who love you best; your parents.

(02) New Possibilities

So it's the last day of our freshmen year and we're ending it by chilling at Kiki's pool. Literally all of the class is there which isn't hard because it's not very big. No one feels like swimming ironically because it's an overcast day. The chlorinated water is as still as glass and I wait for at least one annoying guy to be pushed in. It doesn't happen.

I sit in my favorite khaki capri pants and hot pink flip flops on a white pool chair smiling as Sophie, the girl sitting next to me talks on and on about her plans for the summer. I'm only half listening as she chatters about biking in France, twisting her brunette hair. I gaze over at the guy I had liked ever since he had shared his animal crackers with me in kindergarten, Lawrence W. Snow.

Lawrence is drunk out of his mind as usual, falling all over the place as he attempts to walk towards where the chips are. Watching him, I get this amazing urge to go spit in his face with disgust - he wouldn't remember it - or push him in the pool and watch him struggle to get out. After ten years, I realize that I'm just not attracted to him anymore and suddenly I have no guy to pine for. It's a miracle.

I glance back at Sophie, who I guess is onto a whole new topic about her brother corning home from college. I nod and smile but then look back to the crowd. Two girls with blonde hair race in front of me on the grass, followed by Andrew Peters carrying with a giant squirt gun. He squirts me but I hardly notice because I'm too bored to care. And then...he hits me. I am searching the crowd for my friends and I notice a guy and girl laughing on the mechanical porch swing. The girl is Tina Daniels, the grade's biggest flirt and the guy is one surprisingly I don’t know. I hadn’t had any classes with him that year and I had been so busy melting over Lawrence, I hardly had looked at him. I watch them now completely entranced, Tina doing her routinely brush of blonde hair to the side.

As the guy said something, Tina burst out laughing and leaned into him even closer. I began to be jealous of my mind for no apparent reason.

Then something unexpected happens. The guy looks straight at me! I sit there staring at him like a lovesick puppy, and for a brief second we make eye contact.
There is this energy I feel coming from him and my heart is hammering and my face gets hot, and I make the awful mistake of quickly looking away. I immediately regret it, and watch as he walks over to the soda table.

For the first time, I can really get a good look at him. His hair is dirty blond, short but long enough so that it hangs in his eyes in an adorable way. I instantly love how he shoves it boyishly out of his face when he talks to someone. He is wearing a shell necklace under his navy polo shirt with crisp khaki shorts. Immediately, Lawrence is completely forgotten.

Interrupting Sophie, I asks quickly, "Soph, you see that guy in the navy polo shirt with blond hair?"

She stops talking and peers closely over by the soda bottles, adjusting her baby blue tank top.

"Oh yeah, that's Jeff Waters. He moved here this year from California."

Oh." I reply. "Sorry I interrupted." I can't stop watching him. Before Sophie can continue about the latest fashion tip she learned from Cosmopolitan magazine, my friends come over.

"Daria, come start the around-the-world ping pong game with us!" I look up at Britney and Charlotte who are, of course, both wearing the same blue flowered shorts from J. Crew. I smile as I follow them to the ping pong table. As it begins to drizzle, Sophie tells everyone else to come follow and play with us. Britney, Charlotte, Patsy, and I start the game and a line begins to snake around us. A huge game forms and I am mostly at the top of it. Hitting the ball here and there and dashing between sides, I am unstoppable. I can't concentrate on anything but the oncoming war.

After a while the line fades as people strike out on their turns and start to cheer us on instead. I'm one of the last people left and as my turn comes up I grab the paddle and look up to see Jeff Waters himself facing me on the opposing court. The guys are patting Jeff on the back and all the girls are screaming for me. I can't make myself look Jeff in the eye. We are the last people left which means I have to play one on one with him. I try not to let the fact that he is Perfectboy intimidate me, but I know if I look just once into his eyes I’ll be taken and lose the whole game. I am a very competitive person, so I can’t lose a game just because of some cute guy. I concentrate on the ball and hit it back at him with everything I’ve got. It seems like hours until finally I watch the ball spike into his court. He misses it.

I hear a thud as his head hits the table and he pounds his fist in agony. The whole grade must be around us because I hear guys yelling and girls screaming at me.
Even Lawrence Snow is there, laughing like an idiot.
Jeff gets up and with a smile from his pearly whites, he looks at me and hands me the ping pong ball.

I can’t help but gaze into those brown eyes, and I think, as my heart beats as I touch his hand to take the ball, that just about anything can happen this summer.

(03) Distant Waters

So it’s the first week of total freedom. The novelty of not going to school has almost worn off, almost. “There’s still so much to look forward to,” I think as I hear my mom shouting from the family room that my friends are here. Grabbing a towel from the upstairs closet, I jump down the stairs and open the door to find all the girls in the black wrangler with Charlotte’s sister Kelly taping the steering wheel impatiently. Holding up the one-second-finger, I run to the nook in the kitchen and snatch my sunglasses, shouting a goodbye to my mom as I slam the door shut and jump into the jeep, almost all in one motion.

As the overly steamed sister, Kelly, screeches out of my driveway, I hold onto the side of the car tightly, laughing as a neighbor rushes to the side of the road with her dog, annoyed by Kelly’s driving techniques. It feels so good to be in the Wrangler, the warm sun on my legs. Instantly Britney’s long hair whips in my face so that all I can see is bright yellow.

“Can you control it?” I ask her, laughing and pulling it away from my face.

I pull down my shades and feel the wind ripple my yellow tee shirt. My hair is still damp from my shower. I let it down, allowing the sharp breezes from the open car blow it dry until I will put it up in pony tail again. Summer never felt so good.
After Kelly drops us off at the beach, we run toward our favorite sunning spot down by the concession stand. We peel off our shorts and tops and lie down on the warm sand, our towels a cushion underneath us.

We lie there in our suits, talking with our eyes closed, sneaking an occasional glance around the beach to see if there are any attractive lifeguards on duty, or even more unlikely, an attractive guy we know from school. Our towels are in a circle so it's easy to see each other.

Britney and Charlotte are both wearing the same tube top tankinis from J. Crew, Britney with blue, Charlotte in green. They have to adjust their tops every few minutes. Charissa lies flat on her bright pink fish towel, her brunette hair cascading around her on the sand. She insists on tanning this way to allow all of her hair to catch the sun and lighten. Perhaps she feels out of place, being the only brown-haired girl in the bunch, and Patsy is on her stomach, flipping through a Cosmo with headphones on, her legs bent and waving slowly in the air. When she is sure Patsy is completely into her music and can’t hear, Britney begins venting about how annoying she is.

“I can’t believe her! She shows up in the exact same bikini she knows I bought first and then pretends she doesn’t even know! How like Patsy! She doesn’t even look good in it! I just can’t…”

Britney has to stop because Patsy has taken off her earphones and is searching for another magazine. Patsy and Britney kind of have a love-hate relationship. They always complain about each other when they're apart, but they end up acting like best friends when they're together. It's strange, but that's how it has always been.

I dig my feet farther into the hot sand, listening to the squeals of nearby seagulls fighting over apiece of hot dog bun, and also the soothing sounds of the waves lapping against the rocks while kids laugh and splash in the water. I'm tuning out most of what my friends are saying until I hear them mention Jeff Waters.

"So I hear Jeff Waters is going to Maine for the summer. He's the got the nicest house up there!" Charlotte explains, as she adjusts her tube top.

"I wouldn't mind being his girlfriend. I think he is H-O-T hot!" Britney laughs.

"Yeah you and the rest of the free world!" Charissa points out.

The conversation turns to our plans for spending two weeks together at Britney's summer house in Martha's Vineyard. As all of the girls excitedly make plans for movies, dinners on the beach, and hitting all the major shopping areas, I am totally lost in my own thoughts, not focusing on Martha's Vineyard.

As I gaze up at the sky, I think about how I have only a summer to plan my strategy on how to make a certain guy mine. I have two and a half weeks to figure out how to make Jeff Waters, the perfect boyfriend, ask me out. "Good luck!" I think to myself doubtfully.

Operation Boyfriend has just begun and I feel as hopeless as I watch a nearby little girl, building a small sand castle that is constantly washing away into the hands of the outstretched glistening ocean, where the sun dances on the waves and reflects the glorious summer sun.

(04) Fireworks on the Sound

As the evening sea air whips at my face, I pull my black cardigan more closely around my increasingly suntanned shoulders, and watch the water froth down below me at the edge of the boat. Charissa and I are waiting for the Fourth of July fireworks to start, as we move closer to the middle of the sound in her father's boat.

We are both silent for a moment, taking in the salty air and lost in our own thoughts.
"So how long do you think it's going to take to get him?" I turn around to face Charissa. After a second I figure out what "him" means and I smile.

"Who knows, maybe forever." I hadn't really thought much about Jeff Waters for the past few weeks.

Charissa laughs cheerfully. "1 think you just need to forget about him and enjoy the summer. Maybe you'll meet some other guy while he's away."

"Maybe," I tell her, rather doubtful.

"I think you and Jeff would make a great couple though." She glances up at the sky which is dimming by the second. I watch how her hair lift up on the wind, then fall back gently around her shoulders.

Charissa is one of the most loyal people in my life. So far she is the only person I have told about Jeff Waters and the only person I have never had had a tight with. She
seems always to be the peacemaker in the group, not wanting anyone to be unhappy.

"What about you'?" I ask, nudging her slyly. "Who do you have your eyes on? The guy you sat in front of in Biology?"

She wrinkles her nose. "Oh gosh, no!"

Then she smiles, "There is this one guy who I've talked to a few times." "Charissa! You never told me!"

"He's just the son of one of the guys my dad works with," she says, suddenly shy.

"Good guys are hard to come by," I sigh. "They're either too young, too old, too fat, too skinny, too gay, or too annoying."

Charissa bursts out laughing which starts me going, and soon we are both falling over on the deck of the ship, laughing until our stomachs ache. As we gaze up at the stars, we are clearly in a mood where everything is funny.

"Charissa?" We both sit up to see Charissa's dad standing a few feet from us. His hands are in the pockets of his crisply creased khaki pants.

"Yeah dad?" Charissa stands up.

"You'll never guess who just pulled up next to us! Don Hastings and his son, Rick! Perfect! Hastings and I have some things to talk about and you can entertain his son!" He whistles to himself as he patters downstairs in his faded, old topsiders.
I look at Charissa who is looking at me. For a second we are silent, then burst out laughing. And then, she freaks.

"Oh, my gosh!"

"That's him? Rick?" I ask.

"Do I look all right? Oh my gosh, if I knew he was going to come I would have worn my other pair of khaki shorts! I can't do this, I am soo nervous! Thank goodness you're with me! Oh gosh, that's him in the light blue, button-down shirt!"

"You look fine," I say laughing. But I am growing kind of nervous, too. Three is always a crowd and I am not in the mood to be the odd one out. I watch the boat on the other side of us approach, and the two fathers tie them together side by side.
We don't have too much time to primp and prepare because after two minutes Rick and other figure step onto Charissa's boat.

Charissa kicks me excitedly. We both were still freaking out. I can't tell who the other person is next to Rick until they come closer and then I realize it was another guy - in navy blue shorts and a white button down.

"Hey, Charissa," Rick calls out, flashing his perfect smile. He introduces his friend, Brett Hayes, from Greenwich and before I know it Charissa and Rick have run downstairs to get some soda, leaving me in the awkward position of sitting next to Brett.
But it doesn't take long before Brett and I have exchanged AOL screen names and he has invited me to a party with a bunch of his Brunswick friends next Saturday night at the Belle Haven Club.

Then as Brett and I talked mostly about playing lacrosse and summer possibilities, I study his profile. He is EXTREMELY ATRACTIVE! Blonde and tan of course, with perfect teeth and a boyish sparkle in his eyes that makes his easy to talk to, and very alluring. I can't stop watching those eyes.

Charissa and Rick return with the soda and soon we hear a loud boom and see the sky light up. As the fireworks shoot up displaying large rings of blue and red, we lie down on a blanket so our only view is the colorful flashes in the sky. Brett lays his head on the opposite side of the blanket from me so that when I put my head down it bumps gently into his, which just makes us laugh. His blond hair tickles my cheek and I get a whiff of his cologne which is probably Abercrombie.

I try to concentrate on the fireworks, but my heart seems to beat louder than the gunshot sounds from above. I glance at Charissa and Rick and I sighed happily. As a ring of blue explodes above a burst of purple, and the smaller flashes make a sizzling sound as they fell back towards the water I suddenly feel Brett’s hand over mine. My face is suddenlv hot, and when I look at him next to me, he's staring at the sky, but then glances at me and we both smile. I'm holding hands with a guy I’ve just met, on Charissa's boat watching the fireworks on the Fourth of July. It doesn't get much better than this.

Charissa turns her head to look at me and we both sneak a smile. Charissa is right, I have all summer to worry about Jeff Waters, and right now I just need to be free and have fun. As another explosion of red,blue and green flashes across the sky, I make a mental note. "Operation Jeff Waters officially starts...tomorrow." Back at harbor, I thank Charissa and her dad profusely and walk to my waiting car.

"The fireworks were great!" I call out to Charissa.

"Yeah, and the ones in the sky weren’t bad either!" Charissa shouts back.

(05) An Unexpected Friend

It's just another lazy Summer afternoon, and the bright sunlight streams through my bedroom window as I lie on my bed, flipping through Seventeen magazine with MTV's TRL blaring in the background. I peer closely at Christina Aguilera pictures, and her strange taste in fashion. The phone rings. Turning over onto my side I grab it, and immediately hear Britney's voice on the receiver. Then I quickly run across the room to my small TV on the table, shut it off, and bounce back onto my bed.

"Hey Brit!" I laugh.

"Oh my gosh! I feel terrible for you. I can't imagine what must' be going on at your house right now!" Britney says excitedly.

I lie down on my back and ease my bare feet against the wall next to me, feeling completely lost, as usual. "Ummm...I’m not sure what you’re...

"How is she taking it?"

"Who?"

"OLIVIA, of course! I can't believe he did it right before she's leaving!"

"Did what?"

"Come on, don't tell me you don't know, you're her own SISTER! Jake dumped Olivia last night when they went out to dinner!”

I can't believe it. Typical of me to the last one to hear the breaking news everyone in Darien must have be talking about, especially when it's about my own sister.

"I gotta go. I have a whole list of people to call about this! Call me later to tell me how she's handling it," Britney says eagerly. With that she clicks off, and I am left to lie there staring blankly up at the ceiling with the receiver still tucked next to my ear. I throw it back on the cradle and then stretch out, completely lost in thought as I trace the outlines of the puffy clouds on my bedspread.

Olivia has always been Miss Perfect. With her long legs, sun bleached hair, and perfect smile, I had always envied her. She had been on the Varsity lacrosse team since she was a freshmen, was a soccer state champion, and every guy's dream.
She had gone through boyfriends like a freshman goes through laundry until she went out with a certain sophomore named Jake. He, like Olivia, was also perfect and loved by everyone. As a varsity football player, member of the homecoming court two years in a row, and voted in his middle school as "most likely to become an Abercrombie and Fitch model, he was just the right boyfriend for my sister. He took her to his junior prom, his summer house in Nantucket, and every single happening party that was planned. Jake and Olivia were inseparable. No one in the entire high school could know one of them without the other one and everyone assumed they would go out until he went away to college, and even then they probably would find a way to still be together.

All of sudden Olivia has been abandoned. It is like when Angel left Buffy. I love it!
I had found out by phoning my mom that Olivia had been at her friend's house since the previous night. 1 waited hours and hours for that moment when my sister would walk through the front door, heartbroken and fully vulnerable. Olivia and I hardly ever talked. She was constantly gone or in her room on the phone so I hardly knew her now, though before high school we had been like best friends. I knew one thing though, there was no telling what Olivia would do in times like these. She is an extremely sensitive person and is known to take things like this very hard.

At about 6:15 she walks in. There are dark circles under her eyes indicating that she hasn't slept, her blonde hair is matted, and smudges of mascara stand out on her cheeks like war paint. Not surprisingly, besides all this, she still looks perfect.
I watch her carefully. She seems to be rather calm. As she walks slowly upstairs, I follow her, which she doesn't even seem to notice. In her room, she sits silently on her bed and gazes weakly over to the pictures of her and Jake on the bedside table. I fully expect her to grab it and smash it, but she doesn't. Everything Jake ever gave her remains where it is, from the jewelry to the stuffed animals he won for her at carnivals to the Nantucket postcards.

"Olivia?"

She looks at me wearily.

"Do you want to maybe go for a drive or something?" I wait for her to scream at me and push me out of her room, but she just smiles. It's scary for me to see her smile like that.

She picks up her keys, the silver key chain with the heart from Tiffanv's that has Jake's and her name engraved on it, and off we go for a drive to the beach. It's dark outside as she veers to the left towards a parking spot right in front of the water. We sit on top of the car roof together, just like when we used to in middle school.
The waves crash against the sand and there is faint laughter from some party down the beach, where everyone is probably drunk.

I gaze up at the sky, where the stars are studded across the black with the small sliver of a moon glowing in the middle of it. Olivia puts her arm around me and we watch the water, quiet for a few minutes. Then she begins to cry as she looks down at the silver ring on her finger that Jake had given to her for her birthday. It is a special moment. We talk about life and each other's problems and of course, Jake. I suddenly feel this long lost love for my older sister, a feeling I hadn't felt for two whole years. I wish with all my heart that Jake and Olivia could have been still together, but perhaps then we couldn't have shared this night together.

We stay there, the car's bright lights underneath us, the water lapping in front of us, the sounds of laughter behind us, and God watching over us. It is a moment for friends. For an hour and a half, a bond between us is sealed, and we both realize there are times only for sisters.

(06) A Girl's Best Friend

Every girl in the world needs at least one guy in her life with whom there is absolutely no mutual love interest. A guy to hang with and have no cares in the world with, a guy who can always take you to the prom if you don't have a date, a guy who can tell another guy that you think he's cute and not completely sabotage the relationship from jealousy, and most importantly, a guy who you don't have to try to impress at all. Mine right now is Cameron Phillips, and he is absolutely the best guy in the world. I have a few close guy friends, but Cameron is by far the funniest, wildest, and most attractive.

Cameron and I have been friends ever since he moved here in second grade from Massachusetts. He knows everything about me; my crushes, my weaknesses, my dreams, and vice versa. He has been my tango partner for all of the school dances, has planned all of the surprise parties on my birthdays, and most importantly, was the one who I had vented to the night of a certain party at the Belle Haven Club, when I found out from
Charissa that Brett Hayes has a girlfriend.

Even though Cameron is absolutely gorgeous with his sun bleached blonde hair and his dark tan, he has had only a few girlfriends in his lifetime. He is the sort of guy who seems to never want to grow up and will never be ready for a serious relationship, which is a serious disappointment to the hundreds of drooling girls at our high school. I never really figured out what made Cameron want to be good friends with me, perhaps I never will.

I think about all of this as I stare into the water farther down the sand, as Cameron and I eat pizza on a red striped blanket under a nearby tree. It's 6:30 in the evening on an idle Tuesday, and the weather is just right; warm with cool breezes. I am leaning against the trunk of the tree in my khaki shorts and red T-shirt, and Cameron is on his back, chewing and looking up at the darkening sky. The beach is pretty deserted, except for a few small families.

I let out a loud burp, full of cheese pizza and orange soda, which of course makes Cameron challenge it with another echoing one. I laugh hysterically as a white-haired man with his golden retriever turns around to see who just let out that earth shattering belch. Burping contests are things that you can only do with guys, so you have to enjoy them while you can. I throw my remaining crusts into the empty pizza box and take another swig of soda as Cameron sits up and looks at me.

"Let's walk down the beach." He tells me as he slips on his black Reefs and tosses me mine. I swallow my soda and pull my bare feet into them, following him down to the water.

"Hey now!" I shout to a middle-aged guy in a foldout chair, reading his newspaper. Cameron and I run away from him as he pulls off his sunglasses and peers closely at us. Screaming random things to the opposite sex is something Cameron and I have done since we were eighth graders. We fall down the beach laughing until our stomachs hurt from the sight of his confused face, and finally we make it to the water's edge.
The sun is blazing with a bright red color, as it seems to fall slowly to the ocean. Fireflies appear and flicker near the trees, welcoming the oncoming darkening night. I look at Cameron who glances back at me, and then I kick a fountain of water at him. I fall over laughing at his bewildered face and he sends a spray of water at me, soaking my shirt and shorts.

Soon we are standing there on that summer-night, kicking pools of water and throwing wet sand at each other like little kids. We continue getting each other more and more soaked and dirty until I push him into the water face first and he pulls me down with him- Then we sit there immersed, sopping wet in our khaki shorts and our hair stringy with clumps of sand. A little girl who is probably four or five in a hot pink swimsuit laughs as she walks past us, her mother smiling with an amused look as she pulls her daughter farther up the sand. I glance at Cameron who is wringing out his navy polo shirt and I notice he is unusually calm, until he sees a guy about our age walking towards us.

"Hey now, Kiddo, he's a hottie," he says laughingly, as I look up at a muscular guy in navy shorts and a white T -shirt with a surfboard printed on the back. I can already tell what is going through my evil friend's mind.

"Cameron don't you dare!" I cry at him, punching him. The guy walks past us and Cameron is just waiting for the right moment.

"Hey now!" He shouts as the poor guy turns around. "My friend here thinks you're hot," he tells him this matter of factly, as I pinch his arm under the water. But it's too late now, I'm obligated to play along. I give him a sly smile, trying hard not to laugh and he winks at me.

“Hey, can I have your number?" He asks me in a macho voice. Then he looks back at Cameron. "Wait, he's not your boyfriend, right?”

Before I can answer, Cameron is talking. "Oh her? Nah, we went out weeks ago, but then I dumped her. Anyway, if you want her number, I'll give it to you." As the stranger writes down the number, which of course isn't my real phone number, he smiles at me again. "I'll call you later then, hottie," he tells me flexing his muscles, and I smile back at him, biting my lip.

I fall into the water, laughing hysterically again as he walks up the sand and I hit Cameron really hard. "Ow!" he yelps, "you KNOW you wanted him, and he was totally checking you out!"

"I can't believe you did that!!" I shout as I throw a huge fistful of sand at him.

"He's going to come STALK me now!!" I laugh.

"You need a boyfriend anyway, and it might as well be him!" he shouts back and then we are splashing each other until we're sopping wet yet again.

As we trudge up to his car, completely dirty and drenched, we both dread the oncoming lecture his mom is going to give us about riding like that in her Mercedes. I push Cameron lightly and he pushes me back, and I think to myself happily, that at least one special guy should always be a girl's best friend. I watch his mom, talking on her cell phone as usual, and the sea air whips at my hair as the summer sun dies out, the sky becomes one map full of stars, and the dim flashes of the fireflies dance around us like a hundred blinking lights.

(07) Rainy Nights

It is Friday night, as I toss pairs of boots and gloves out of my hall closet, desperately searching for some sort of water protection, preferably an umbrella.
As I toss another random boot out behind me, I see a red blurry light from the nearby window that comes from the reflection of a car's headlights, mixed with the droplets of summer rain. I decide to ditch the idea of the umbrella and instead grab all the boots and other winter wear and throw them in the closet and slam the door.

Jumping into the back of the waiting Black Jeep Grand Cherokee, I slam the door shut after being dumped on by a shower of water, My hair is stringy and water droplets are scattered across the front of my light blue button-down and khaki pants.

"Hey," Cameron says, with an echo from my other guy friend Josh in the back seat.

"Hey, guys." I reply, running my fingers through my long blonde hair. I'm not really in the most talkative mood as I watch the raindrops run down the windows. This doesn't last long because Cameron and Josh start goofing around and acting out scenes from Saturday Night Live, which of course starts me laughing. Sometimes you just have to appreciate guys.

After a few minutes, we pull into a parking space in front of Blockbuster and all three of us jump out and head for the entrance. Josh and I both run inside to avoid getting soaked, but of course Cameron lags behind, standing in the middle of the parking lot holding his arms up in the rain like a complete idiot. Josh and I run to the back where the latest arrivals for videos are displayed. We run past an older man stacking a pile of videos back on the shelves. He has long stringy dark hair and reeks of cigarette smoke and as I glance at his name tag I realize that he is named Tim. I shudder as I look at him over my shoulder and we make our way closer to the back of the room.

Finally, we see the sign for the latest arrivals and start peering over the selection of videos. I study Josh for a minute as he picks up American Pie and looks at the back of it.

"This the BEST movie!" Josh exclaims, as I roll my eyes and smile. I have only known Josh for, a couple years. He sat next to me in English in eighth grade and we automatically just clicked. He used to keep to himself most of the time, with his kind of shy blue eyes and dark hair. He's not much of a loud person, but Cameron and I have definitely fixed that over the years.

After Josh and I browse for a few minutes, Cameron finally joins us. His hair is wet and plastered to his face and his red Abercrombie shirt and khaki shorts are completely soaked through. I tousle his hair and tell him just how ridiculous he looks as he grabs American Pie from Josh and The Haunting from the shelf as we make our way to the front of the store to the cash register. Josh pulls out some money from the back pocket of his navy shorts and hands it to the lady who is waiting for it. I glance at her.

She looks like she's somewhere in her forties with her dark hair twisted into a tight bun on top of her head. She has a harsh looking face, but smiles at us after we pay for the videos. I grab the bag and then we make our way back to the Jeep.

Josh's older brother, Clarke, is almost eighteen and is our taxi driver for the night. His girlfriend, Erin, whom I only knew a little bit, is next to him in the front seat.
She is leaning on his shoulder and holding his hand with her legs on top of his lap. When he opens the door, she quickly moves back to her side of the seat next to the window, definitely annoyed by her boyfriend having to tow around some freshmen on her date night.

As I sit there in the middle of the car with Josh next to me, I am suddenly deeply interested in Erin and Clarke.

I have always thought Clarke was attractive, even before I knew Josh. He has crystal blue eyes like his younger brother, but also dirty blonde hair and had an amazing tan from being a lifeguard at Greenwich Point. Erin is also gorgeous, with her long blonde hair, emerald green eyes and an amazing tan of her own from life guarding alongside Clarke. They have been together for only a few months, but they act as if they are engaged.

I am now mesmerized with both of them. I watch as Clarke makes fun of Erin and she punches him on the shoulder. Then he tickles her, trying to keep one hand on the wheel. Erin starts giggling uncontrollably. She punches him harder on the shoulder and he puts both hands on the wheel again, focusing more on the road but also looking into her eyes. She takes his hand in hers and they both kind of sit there while he continues to drive.

I take this all in. I think about what it would be like to be in a relationship like that. Sure, some of my friends had gone out with seniors when they were only freshmen, and I have had a few boyfriends before high school. But it's not the same.
Dating a senior as a freshman does not bring complete seriousness to a relationship. The freshmen are always thought of as just annoying freshmen, being dated by senior guys for play. In junior high school, relationships were never that serious either. Girls only went out with guys for a few months max, and they never were really confident around them.

I am thinking about a completely new relationship. One where the partners are mature and are seriously in love. I've never had that. I try to picture what it would be like to be with a guy like that, to be with Jeff Waters or some other guy for that matter. I sit there, completely wanting a boyfriend more than ever before.
“Hey, what the heck are you thinking about? It's like you're gone, man." Cameron says, waving his hand in front of my face.

I sigh. I’m back in the Jeep Grand Cherokee with just my two guy friends sitting there with me. " Nothing. Absolutely nothing,” I answer.

Just then, we pull into Josh's driveway and jump out with the videos. Josh's brother screeches out of the driveway, now free of little brothers and their little friends. I walk slowly towards Josh's TV room where Britney, Charissa, Patsy, and Charlotte are already piled on the couch watching Daria on MTV. I think to myself, as I open the sliding glass door that friends are definitely important, but having a boyfriend is even more important. At least right now anyway. Right then and there at that moment. I vow to myself that, as of the upcoming school year, I will never be single for more than a month ever again.

Cameron looks at me strangely, and then opens the door. I sit on the couch with the other girls. The laughter and joking seems to come from another world, as I dream about my boyfriend-to-be.

(08) Sudden Awakenings

After slowly opening my eyes in the bright, almost afternoon sunlight streaming from the window next to my bed, I directly focus my attention to my bedroom ceiling. Not that there's anything interesting to look at up there, but whenever I wake up and I have no place to go, I stare at my ceiling and try to picture what I had just dreamt the night before.

In the days of the typical girl obsession over Leonardo DiCaprio when "Titanic" came out, I had taped a picture of him up there so that I would have something at least pleasant to look at when I woke up. I had decided it looked weird like that with a picture hanging completely out of place right next to my light, so I took it down and taped it right next to my bed instead.

Now, I have grown completely used to the blank ceiling. Oftentimes, I scrunch my eyes at the smooth white paint and search my brain for some scene, some small clue that I have actually dreamed something, just moments before. Only occasionally do I wake up, stretch, and instantly remember where I have just been. Since I am now a typical teenage girl, filled with thoughts about mostly the opposite sex, the dreams I can remember are usually about guys. This morning is no
exception.

I can still see his face so clearly it's almost like he's in front of me, as I stretch my legs so they fall on top of the wrinkled light blue gingham sheets. Of course it was one of the many categories of Jeff Waters dreams. There are the going-out ones where we're actually a real couple, the weird ones where it's raining glazed donuts or something outside and he's there talking to my Aunt Martha who is walking her ridiculously annoying chiuaua Snooky and then her hair turns into a pile of beef jerky. Then there are the embarrassing ones where I come to school forgetting to put on any underwear that morning and fall down the stairs on the way to the science wing. And then, of course, the bittersweet ones where I actually get up the nerve to tell him I like him, he says the feeling is mutual, and then I wake up. The dream I had just left was a bittersweet one.

It had been sometime during the school year. I'm not sure where exactly I was supposed to be, but I was walking up a fresh green, grassy hill where a fountain was spurting purple. When I finally reached the top, gasping for breath, he was there standing right in front of me.

He was in his lacrosse shorts and a white tee-shirt and his arm was broken. I wasn't hesitant to speak to him at all and instantly said 'hi' and asked him about his arm. He told me he broke it playing in a game. Then, with a smile, he asked me to sign his cast and I grabbed the pen and scribbled my name in an empty space next, to my dad's signature (that was the weird part) and handed him back his red pen. He then craned his neck so he could read it, and glanced at me with a smile and asked: "Why didn't you sign it 'the love of Jeff's life'?" (Leave it to my dreams to be corny.) And when I looked into those clear brown eyes, he said, "because you are the love of my life." Then I woke up.

I sigh into the emptiness of my room. The sweetness of thinking about Jeff Waters is too short when my mom enters.

"You're not up yet? It's almost noon! Go take a shower and hopefully Olivia will still be willing to take you shopping for clothes for Martha's Vineyard."

"Where are you going?" I mumble sleepily, eyeing her tennis skirt.

"I have a tennis match scheduled today with Susan. Speaking of which I need to get going.” She sits on my bed and strokes my hair gently. "I left some money on the table for you, now don't go crazy, all right? Just the necessities.”
please."

I smile slyly. Then she tousles my hair and leaves my room. I lay there for a few more minutes, against my mother's wishes, and look around my room. gambling with how much more time I can waste until my sister comes and yells at me as well. It's just a typical boring summer morning, the first week of August, and only weeks before school starts again. Less than five minutes later, the one and only Olivia comes in.

"What are you doing staring up at the ceiling? You really don't have a life, do you?"
She jumps on top of me and pulls my arms forward to force me to sit up. She's already dressed in navy blue short shorts and a grey tank top which makes her suntanned shoulders look a shade of darker brown.

"Go take a shower you lazy butt. I'm leaving in ten minutes, with or without you." She hands me a towel from off my desk chair. I groan in response.

Things have definitely changed between Olivia and me. For a while, her break-up with her eternal boyfriend, Jake, was a blessing in disguise. I actually began to see my older sister more than once a month and the phone line began to be open occasionally. Heck, on some weekends she actually was sprawled on the couch in flannel pajamas watching T. V. That didn't last long of course. Then, not surprisingly, she met a guy named Trevor from New Caanan while hanging out at Nantucket with her annoying friends Steph and Lisa. Now she's in love allover again not the Jake-type love. That probably won't happen for a while, but the singing-in-the-shower type love. This time though, she is more careful about saving time to laugh and talk about boys with her little sister.

We actually have started acting more like we're related, much to the surprise of our parents and also practically everyone in the whole world. We have gotten so close over the summer, that I finally told her about Jeff Waters. She is starting to be my idol, my example. I hope that when I'm junior, I can be as witty and gorgeous as she is. I also hope that maybe, somehow Jeff and I can be like she was with Jake. I told her this and she told me with a laugh that most guys almost are not worth all the torment girls put themselves through.

“You’re almost there, just a little farther...you can do it," Olivia shouts with mock excitement. My thoughts are back to going shopping in preparation for the trip I have been looking forward to all summer with all of my best friends.

“You aren’t in the SHOWER YET?” I jump at my mom’s booming voice echoing up from the kitchen. I could have sworn I had heard the crunch of her black suburban on the long winding driveway. The morning had just come too quickly.

“I thought you were supposed to be at TENNIS!” I shout back. I think I hear my mom sigh.

“Just go take a shower,” my sister says again.

And before I can resist Olivia’s orders, she slams the door behind my back.

(09) Approaching Autumn

I wake up to the smell of my Grandma's homemade bread and hear eggs sizzling on a frying pan. I can see the small kitchen from my bed because where Olivia and I are sleeping is a room just below the kitchen, with only the privacy of wrought iron stairs leading up to it.

My grandma comes down the steps and hovers over my bed where she pats my arm and whispers into my ear, even though 1 am already awake, " Are you still coming with me to the pool this morning?" I nod vigorously, only half awake but still positive that at six o clock in the morning in the summer at her house in Newton Mass, 1 want to go with my mom's mom to a public indoor pool down the road so she can go water walking.
She goes back upstairs to fix the rest of breakfast and 1 slowly fall out of bed to put my swimsuit on. I figure that if I am spending a weekend at her house, I might as well not waste one minute, including time to swim in a refreshing pool.

My grandma is one of the nicest ladies I know. She has curly light red, almost blonde, hair and large - glasses. She's pleasantly plump, not fat, just has the small grandmotherly bulge from having five children forty-five years ago. Her skin is fair and creamy white and always smells like Pond's lotion. She is an expert seamstress, cook, Skipo player, and childspoiler. Her only problem is her hearing. I always have to remember to speak louder when I talk to her. And if she doesn't have her hearing aids in, it's almost a lost cause.

After I pull on my suit and put my hair up in a messy bun, I put on a pair of blue lacrosse shorts and my reef flip-flops. Still only half awake, 1 trudge up to the kitchen, down a piece of toast with a dollop of homemade strawberry jam, and a glass of orange juice. Grandma gets me a soft, clean towel and then we head to her car, the ancient old Volvo station wagon that has seen a lifetime of weekends at the Cape, driving my mother to and from college and a million trips to the supermarket -the old brick A&P where my mother worked one summer. It closed before 1 was born, but I have seen pictures of my mother in her checker's apron.

My grandmother and grandfather have never considered themselves rich or even terribly modern, really, for that matter. But they have been married for 52 years, and that in itself, is wealth beyond anything 1 have known in Darien. Everything in their comfortable little house is exactly as it was when my mom was a teenager. The bedrooms are the same, the wallpaper in the living room is the same golden yellow and the lamps have that kind of that 70's look to them. Sometimes I think 1 can feel what it would have been like to be my mom living with her family.

It's only minutes before we enter the driveway of Grandma's friend who comes with her to the pool. My grandma has always been known to make friends easily and I wasn't surprised that she found a good friend to swim with. Her friend is also nice and also has to speak into my grandma's ear. She has short gray hair and is slim.

My grandma tells me while we are waiting, that she has breast cancer and needs to go the pool for exercise. I stare out the window as they talk and brag about their families and their plans for the rest of the summer. Finally we arrive at the pool.
While still in the car, my grandma jokingly tells me that I want to get out of the pool to take my shower, because I not be ready to see a bunch ladies naked in the locker room.

When I actually jump pool, I realize what I have myself into. There are no people there under sixty and I have to remind myself why I have come in the first place - to spend time with my grandma.

As I watch my grandma across the pool in her dark blue swimsuit looking like a large blueberry, with her friend who is in sort of a ruffly pink suit, I feel kind of out of place. I don't want to stand there in the water, but I feel dumb just doing laps by myself. For the first time, I walk the pool.

After we have gotten in, my grandma's friend realizes the water is kind of murky with a slight whitish tint. I think about maybe going up to tell the lifeguard who is a middle-aged, grim looking man. But I don't have to, because as he passes by our side of the pool, grandma's friend tells him about her discovery.
I watch the lifeguard closely not exactly impressed. He seems to treat these old ladies as if they are toddlers, speaking slowly to them and joking that are having a milk bath. I study him with narrowed eyes.

Would it be like this when I get old? Would people treat me as if I am only a little kid, having no knowledge of the real world, even though I have lived in it longer than they have? The thought saddens me.

After about an hour, I grow tired of walking constantly back and forth in the pool and decide to sit up on the bleachers and study the people. I watch the group of about fifteen or so seniors, three walking with my grandma, and others doing laps on the far side of the pool.

I am suddenly brought to the realization, as I watch each old person getting some exercise that each of them represent a sum of a life's experience...a story to tell. I wonder as I watch a delicate white-haired lady in a white and black checked bathing suit, if she was pretty when she was younger. Perhaps she was bombarded with boyfriends and spent her days lying in the sun and now her skin shows the years of sunshine she has lived. Then I look at a plump but handsome older man with a white mustache. Maybe he was class clown in his high school. He seems happy and content to be in the company of the other men. I sit there and immediately am overwhelmed with respect for all these strangers. Perhaps in the eyes of the lifeguards, they are just cantankerous pensioners but to me they are each a fascinating person, each the author of a book of life experiences and memories now approaching the autumn of their years.
One day I will no longer be hip and cool, but faded and lost in change. I hope to myself that I won't be overlooked and hustled like all of these senior swimmers seem to be. I make a mental note to be more aware of the elderly and to also take really good care of my own children someday. Its like a commercial I saw a few years ago that my dad worked on...You owe it to your parents because they brought you into the world, you owe it to your children because you did the same for them, and in either case you're sort of speechless when you look in those eyes, because in either case...you surely see your own, Summer, like the lives of my elderly swim mates, is waning.
Autumn and its changes will be here before I am ready for it.

(10) Revealed on the Vineyard

"Daria, which tube top should I wear? Britney swears by the hot pink one, but Jackie loves the red one!" Charlotte kind of whines as she holds both up against her chest in the tall mirror on Britney's door.

I think to myself for a few seconds. "Definitely the red one. It looks good with your tan.”

"Oh, you're right!" Satisfied, I lean back on Britney's bed and reach over to crank up the volume on the stereo on her bedside table. "Suicide Machines" immediately blares in the room and I turn it back down.

"Brit, can I put on something else?"

"Yea .... sure.” Britney doesn’t even look up as she focuses all her attention on making the liquid eyeliner on Charissa's left eyelid perfectly straight.
I happily eject "Suicide Machines", replace it with Jennifer Lopez, and close the disk holder. Turning up the volume, I grab a Teen magazine off Britney's bookshelf and start flipping through it, not exactly ready to start primping for that night's party. Instead after a few minutes, I close my eyes and think about everything my friends and I had done that day and how awesome it is to be back in Martha's Vineyard. Running down sandy beaches as the sun sets, visiting charming shops, watching the sailboats dance in the water. All year, I wait for these relaxing days and fun filled nights with my best friends.

"I feel so good, I knew that I would....been taking care of myself like I should!!" My vineyard thoughts are suddenly interrupted completely as Patsy sings with Jennifer at the top of her lungs.

"Daria, don't you think you should be getting ready'? Charlotte asks. "We only have an hour and a half now until we have to go!" Charlotte looks at me expectantly.

"I heard Jeremy Woods is coming tonight!" Charrisa tells me from where she is sitting in front of Britney on the floor. She immediately regrets it though after Britney scolds her for moving while she's trying to do her mascara.

"Wow," I say without enthusiasm. I roll my eyes and smile. Jeremy had been a guy I had met here last year at one of the parties we go to every summer. I grab the bag with the clothes I, have bought in Oak Bluffs trom Take It Easy Baby, the store where we always get new outfits for summer parties.

I head for the bathroom down the hall. It has a beach theme to it with shell-print wallpaper. The window is open and I stick my head out of it, inhaling the cool, Vineyard air. From Britney's bathroom I can still see the water, and I ache to go jump off the dock to cool off.

"Daria? I need to use the bathroom after you so don't take hours, okay?" I hear Charlotte's voice from outside the door.

"Okay, Char!"

"Britney!" Her voice trails as she walks back to her room. I swear I can't tell them apart sometimes! I pull the stretchy black miniskirt and leopard print tube top from the bag. After adjusting each piece of clothing, I am satisfied. The miniskirt shows off my tan legs and the tube top reveals just enough. Attaching a shell necklace to my neck and fluffing up my hair, I open the door to go model for my friends. Their
instant cries of delight make me positive that I have made the right clothes choice.

“Thanks guys!” I reply modestly as I look at my figure once again in a mirror. I do like how the tube top hugs my waist, but I am not exactly sure how I am going to manage with the skirt. I probably won't be bending down too much. "No offense guys, but before I get into primping mode, I think I’ll just take a walk outside."

Britney and Charlotte look at me weirdly, but I just tell them I’ll be back soon and hop down the stairs, forgetting that I'm wearing the miniskirt and tube top. Shutting the front door behind me, I start to walk around Britney's property. I sigh with pleasure as the calm breeze picks up my hair and the bright sun warms my shoulders and back. I find a comfortable spot to sit down and soon, it is so peaceful that my eyes droop and 1 am lost in an afternoon nap.

When I wake up, I immediately glance at my watch and realize that I had slept for a whole hour! Quickly picking the leaves out of my hair and brushing off my skirt, I slip on my flip flops and hurry towards the front of the house.

Just then, Britney's older brother Alex steps out of the door. He's just as gorgeous as his sister and I had a crush on him for years when I first knew Britney. He was wearing khaki shorts and no shirt, which showed off his amazing muscles. I guessed that he had just gotten back from sailing.

"Hey, Alex." I say, fully expecting him to let me pass so I can hurry and finish dressing, but he stands there with a sly smile on his face. Then I feel his eyes look me over from head to toe. Immediately I am hit with the realization of exactly what he's looking at. My hands automatically go to my tube top to adjust it and I pull,down the skirt as best I can. I'm sure my face is beet red.

"Hey, Daria." This is the first time he's ever used my name. I smile and brush past him, more focused on the measly fifteen minutes I have to get ready for the most important party of the summer where just about every teen who stays on the Vineyard is going.

Bounding upstairs and into Britney's room I see that everyone is dressed and making last minute adjustments, adding a bracelet here or body glitter there.

"Daria! We had no idea where you were! Britney sent her brother to come find you! You have to seriously hurry!" Patsy tosses me a brush and I am immediately bombarded by Britney and Charlotte for makeup. Britney adds some eyeliner while Charlotte is on top of her, touching up my mascara. After they are done we all look each other over.
As I look at our tight and short miniskirts and tube tops that we are just going to have to adjust every five minutes, I am immediately hit with a sudden realization.
We all look like complete skanks! Why are we putting ourselves through all this torture? No guy can be worth feeling practically naked. Is being checked out a couple of times by attractive guys really worth not being able to bend over and feeling cheap?? Plus, do I really want every guy at that party acting like Britney's brother? I sit on Britney's bed, torn between being able to get guys and being able to feel good about myself.

I get up and go to my suitcase and pull out my trusty Lily Pulitzer skirt and a white sleeveless shirt. The skirt will still show off legs and at least I will be able to move without feeling self-conscious. Picking up the discarded clothing, I throw the tube top and miniskirt at my reflection in the mirror. I put on the skirt and shirt as my friends watch with gaping mouths.

"But, Daria, you looked so good!!" Britney whines. My friends all have their hands on their hips in their miniskirts and tube tops.

"She still looks good, I think!" Charissa points out

“Thanks, Charissa. At least I feel good and can MOVE!" I shout.

The tension eases as my friends all laugh. They all pull on wholesome looking sweaters and loose pants to wear to get past parental scrutiny and for once I don't have to bother.

Charissa looks at me again with furrowed brows. "Ya know, I kind of agree with Daria. I don't want to have to worry about bending down all night either." I watch her as she peels out of her clothes and puts on her own Lily dress. Charlotte and Britney just roll their eyes and tell us we're crazy. Patsy is kind of quiet.

After getting the nod of approval from Britney's mom and dad, we walk down the street to the party. Halfway down the block everyone except Charissa and I start to strip and carry their other clothes as they walk. The sun is going lower and lower towards the water and the air is getting even cooler.

Finally, we reach the spot and we can already hear music being blasted from the back of the property. "Hey guys! Long time no see!" Rachel shouts to us, the hostess of the party. I watch as my friends toss their discarded clothing in a pile with probably every teenage girl's parent-approved wear on the grass near a tree. Just then I see Jeremy making his way towards us. I see him watch Britney and Charlotte adjusting their tube tops and then he looks at me and smiles that perfect grin that I fall in love with all over again.

“Hey Daria, hey Charissa." He looks into my eyes.

I smile back, “Hey!" I'm surprised that he doesn't say two words to Charlotte, Patsy, and Britney.

“Come with me, you guys." He pulls my hand behind him and Charissa nudges me the whole way. We go towards the crowd of teens, the music getting louder and louder. Strings of lights are hanging all over. As I start to dance with Jeremy, I look back at my other friends who are staring at us from where they are still standing next to the pile of clothes on the grass, adjusting their tube tops, and wondering where it all went wrong.

(11) Heather

"Oh my gosh, I have the best teacher this year for history!"

"Really?" I ask, lazily letting my eyes close from the bright summer sun.

"Yeah, Alice told me that his hardest question for their midterm last year was 'What year was the War of 1812!' If he's as easy with sophomores as he is freshmen, then I am home free!"

Patsy and I are sprawled on the hammock, comparing our schedules and completely freaking out about this being our last week of total freedom. I'm balancing a plate-of potato salad and the last bit of a hot dog on my lap in the shade of two evergreens, while the other girls are playing badminton.

Cameron, Josh, and Alex are manning the large, smoky grill in front of the deck, and Sammy's putting his finishing pieces of strawberry on a sad looking strawberry shortcake, the whip cream melting into a puddle from the strong rays of sun.
Even in the shade, I am sweating terribly in my light blue gingham shorts and white sleeveless shirt. I sigh with content, though, as this is exactly how I want to spend the last days of the summer. The birds are chirping, the bees are buzzing from the towering sunflowers ten feet away, and the air is filled with the chatter and laughter from all my closet friends. I put my bare foot on the grass and push the hammock a little to create a gentle swing.

"Oh look, it's Heather," I feel the hammock jolt around as Patsy cranes her neck to see who's arriving.

"Who?" I ask, not bothering to open my eyes.

"Hea-ther!" Patsy says it slowly, as if I hadn't heard what she had said.

"Who's Hea-ther?" I ask, laughing a little bit.

"The new girl, of course!" I open my eyes and am wide awake now. "A new girl?" I look to the light wooded deck where a darkly tanned, long blonde-haired girl is standing next to the grill. She is completely flirting with Cameron and Josh. I watch her for a few seconds and for some reason I instantly don't like her as she plays with her tresses and Cameron acts all goofy around her. Britney is standing next to her, introducing her to everyone.

"Where's she from?" I ask, not moving my gaze from those tanned shoulders and legs.

"Florida. She moved here last week, right next to Britney's house. Britney's been parading her around like a prized Gucci handbag!" Patsy scowls. I barely hear her as I hear Heather's charming little voice praise Cameron's roasting hamburgers.

"By the way, oh my gosh," Patsy says, "I didn't tell you, did I? You wouldn't believe what I heard Brit telling her the other day at the club! Daria, Britney can't be trusted!"

I don't act surprised at Patsy's words. I am used to Patsy's insults to Britney, and Britney's complaints about Patsy, and I am constantly stuck in the middle. But, still, Britney has never had anything to say about me.

"What did she say?" I ask, wide eyed.

"Just that you're the group tramp." She said it like it had no meaning whatsoever.

"She said what?!" Patsy is about to repeat herself, but I cut her off.

"I know what you said, Patsy but what did she mean by telling the new girl that?"

"How am I supposed to know. I told you Britney's a brat."

I sit up, knocking my plate onto the grass. Heather is gorgeous. In her hot pink pink halter top and tight black capri pants, she looks like a model, there is no doubt
about that.

I had been referred to as the group "tramp?" What on earth would make Britney say that? I guess maybe it appears that I spend more time with the guys than the other girls do, but whatever, we're just friends! Britney doesn't even know about Brett Mclntire unless Charissa told her, but no, Charissa wouldn't do that.
Patsy gets off the hammock.

"Whatever, Daria, I'm going over to say ‘hi.’”

Just then I watch Cameron take a hot dog off the grill and place it in a bun. Sammy pours on ketchup proudly and they both admire their handiwork in the sunlight- Then they walk toward me and I notice Heather is watching their every step.

"This is one prized dog!" Cameron hands me the plate as if it's sacred.
I pretend not to notice that Heather is still watching us closely.

“Guys, I'm stuffed! I can barely look at that! Cameron, this will be my third".

"C'mon, Daria, one bite won't kill you."

I take a bite and smile- it is pretty good, all the while watching Cameron closely. He keeps glancing over his shoulder at Heather who is still standing next to the grill on the deck.

“So what do you think of the new girl?” I ask, pretending not to know anything about Cameron’s obvious adoration of her.

He looks back at me. “Oh you mean Heather? She’s cool. She already has her driver’s license and is taking me to the beach tomorrow.”

He smiles at her across Sammy’s backyard. This completely annoys me, as she waves so cheerfully back. Then, I can’t be sure, but I think I see Heather smile slyly at me as Cameron turns his head. I jerk my head away from her gaze, pretending not to have noticed that evil but perfect smile.

So Heather wants some competition, does she? I think to myself, burning with hatred for that perky, blond twerp who just decided to take over after moving here from the land of Mickey Mouse. The next year isn’t going to go as smoothly as I thought, with my new identity as the skank, and a new girl who plans on competing with me for any guy that walks on two legs. My thoughts are interrupted as Sammy’s mom comes outside holding an absolutely gorgeous chocolate cake.

“Sweet, cake!” Cameron jumps off the hammock and Sammy and I follow close behind. I sit at the table next to Josh and my eyes narrow as Cameron coincidentally has to sit next to her highness.

Why am I acting like this, I ask myself? I am never like this. I’ve never had such mean thoughts. I push these thoughts aside, taking a bite of the cake I’ve been handed, trying to enjoy the last few delicious moments of summer.

As Heather pulls out her schedule and Cameron drags his crumpled one of his faded, dark green shorts, the fall suddenly doesn’t seem so inviting.

I’m just going to work extra hard at getting Jeff Waters before she does. I dig deeper into my chocolate cake which just doesn’t taste as good as it should. Suddenly the birds stop chirping, the bees quit buzzing, and the yard turns completely black with only Heather sitting across the table-in that pink halter top and those black Capri pants with her hair cascading around her tan shoulders shimmering in the last few rays of summer.

(12) Blinded

It's fifth period already as I dodge the sea of oncoming freshmen packed through the halls of Darien High School. I can hardly breathe as I suck in my stomach under my knee length red polka dot skirt and white cardigan and squeeze past a teacher trying to direct people to their rooms. I don't see the faces behind this swarm of confusion, but instead focus all my attention on looking ahead, towards C wing for my next class.
"It's my first day of being a sophomore and I am not going to mess anything up this year!" I tell myself confidently as I rearrange my skirt.

Glancing quickly at the crumpled schedule in my left hand, I read C5 and after scanning each door I find the classroom. Completely relieved and, after checking my watch, still on time, I walk inside, surprised that already the whole class is sitting in a horseshoe formation as the older man, who is wearing faded khaki pants and a blue
button-down and who must be Mr. Johnson, is speaking to them. I decide by the bored expression of some girl in the corner, filing her nails, that he's probably telling them all about his expectations for the coming year.

"Name." He immediately flips open his grading book, raising his black, thin rimmed glasses from where they hang on his neck to his nose.

“Uh, Daria…” I feel my face growing hot.

“Miss Daria…”His head is down, but his eyes seem to bore into my forehead. He pulls off his glasses so that they hang once again on the slope of his stomach. “Uh, Daria..” He tries again and stops smiling at me. Suddenly my stomach is on fire. “I don’t suppose you are a junior, are you?” Then he lets out a deep-bellied laugh. “You’re a freshman aren’t you?” I look at him puzzled and begin to disagree but he interrupts me, “Daria, you’re in the wrong class, and I suggest that if you are going to barge into strange classrooms, letting the door slam and interrupting the teacher that you be a bit more quieter about it.” I start towards the door wishing this whole confusion were just a bad dream.

“Oh, and one more thing. Make sure the next teacher isn’t already annoyed because all of us should already be retired by this year." Roars of laughter surround me as I glance uneasily around the rows of guys and girls in my sister's grade pointing at me and calling me a dumb freshman when they all know that I am a sophomore. Britney's brother Alex is sitting in the back in khaki shorts and a red Polo shirt, his deeply tanned legs stretched out under his desk and his hands folded behind his head.
He removes one hand to wave at me with a dumb expression on his face. My heart is pounding and I feel as if I am going to be swallowed up by my embarrassment.

I hold the strap of my backpack and turn once more toward the door, mumbling another word of apology, as I throw myself into the hall, where I finally feel like I can breathe.

"Way not to mess up, Daria!" I tell myself bitterly, as I rush toward the end of the hall towards the entrances to the bathrooms. I'm dreading the embarrassment of a late entrance to another classroom.

"Hey, umm.... Are you…?” a deep voice starts to ask and I am afraid to turn around. Slowly I glance behind me and my heart almost stops. I see a pile of lightened blonde hair, glittering deep brown eyes, and an unmistakable shell necklace. I can't look into those eyes at this overwhelming moment and my whole body is on fire. Suddenly I can't control my feet and I rush towards the bathroom.

“It can’t be, this just can’t be happening…” I think to myself as I almost step into the boys’ room. I realize my absolutely insane mistake and head for the girls’ when I notice he’s still standing there trying not to laugh. He saw the whole thing. Jeff Waters just witnessed me almost going into the boys’ room.

“Whoa,” he laughs, “You didn’t have to like run away, I was just wondering if you were Daria Knight.”

My heart is hammering inside my sweater and I can’t force myself to make eye contact with him. It feels like his eyeballs are tiny blazing suns and if I look too closely, I will be blinded forever. Staring at his tanned neck instead and the shell necklace overlapping his collar, I reply, “Yeah, I’m Daria, and you must be Jeff, right?” I smile my flirty smile and hope for the best, though I am already regretting letting him know that I know his name.

"Yeah. You're the one who was totally beaten by my amazing Ping-Pong skills this summer."

"Actually," I smugly point out, "I believe I beat you by my amazing ping pong skills this summer."

He laughs. "Umm.... Right." He smiles. "So anyway, I’m sitting with your friends I guess at lunch and they were wondering where you were. They'll be glad I found you. Britney told me to search for a girl in a white cardigan and a red polka dot skirt." He looks down at my skirt and I smile back, feeling like I am going to faint any minute.

"Well, thanks a lot. I'm glad you found me also." Then I finally look up into his eyes just in time and we make eye contact so perfectly. I wait for him to think about that one for a little bit. I feel my confidence coming back now that I have figured out the kink in my schedule. " Are you going back to lunch? I just figured out after completely embarrassing myself by going into a juniors' class that I'm supposed to go to be in the Caf right now!"

All of a sudden he's walking me to lunch as I tell him all about the embarrassment I had just experienced. He is not as talkative as other guys are - I instantly notice this. He also at least tries to make eye contact when I talk to him, even though sometimes I have to look away around the hall, for fear that those deep brown eyes will eventually be able to blur my vision completely - but not by the sun. This blinding would actually be from a crazy teenage girl who instantly decides she's in love with this guy without knowing a thing about him. I suppose this is typical of romance sometimes, girls being blinded by a guy's charm and attractiveness, not even knowing if they can trust him until after they devote every waking hour to him only to find out that he doesn't feel the same way about her.

It's all too soon that we've reached the double doors of the Big Caf and he's holding the door for me. My friends instantly squeal from a nearby table and I am immediately swallowed up in their chatter about classes. I look back at Jeff who is standing right next to us watching this whole silly scene. Then I notice he is looking at me. We make eye contact again as I smile back at him and my heart starts hammering again.

"You're going to watch where you're heading this time, Daria," I tell myself slyly. "This time you're going to know exactly what is behind that door before you swing it open." I glance back al him and even though Charlotte is asking me what class I have next it doesn't matter. At that exact moment, I can't focus on anything but that pile of golden blonde hair and those deep brown eyes that seem to see into my soul.
Jeff Waters is as good as mine.

(13) Back into the Whirlpool

I hear a huge splash behind me in the pool as I walk eagerly towards the huge glass container of my aunt's most famous chocolate mousse. My dad and my uncle Jake are manning the grill with hotdogs, hamburgers, and chicken sizzling underneath the large black barbecue lid and my mom is talking to my father's mother in the corner in the shade.

As I grab the serving spoon and dump a huge delicious pile onto the red paper plate, I turn and watch my Uncle Kevin throwing water balloons at my cousins as if he were a little kid again. His hair is plastered to his thin face and his cargo shorts and plaid button down boxers are soaked. I laugh as he dodges away from an orange colored balloon sent from my Uncle Don, but gets hit directly in the face by Eddie, his eight-year-old son.

It's Labor Day, a bittersweet holiday that tricks you into thinking it's the glorious summer again, just to wake up the next morning to go back to your tiresome second week of high school. Somehow this year Olivia had escaped the traditional extended family Labor Day pool party. For some reason my parents think it is more important for my sister to make sure J. Crew doesn't have anything left from their summer clearance sale than to spend time with her own flesh and blood. I, on the other hand, have begged my parents to let me go to the beach with all of my friends and they act all ashamed of me that I would even ask such a thing.

These kinds of parties really aren't that bad. The food is really good, the pool is refreshing, and it's always fun to watch Uncle Kevin jump in the pool with all of his clothes on. It's just that I'm forever stuck between being an adult and being a kid. The oldest cousin I have for company is twelve.

My thoughts are interrupted as my Aunt Meredith, always the perfect hostess in her signature red polo tee-shirt dress sidles over to a plate of brownies.

"Daria, would you mind running upstairs to make sure the girls haven't drowned yet? I told Lillian she could take her friends up to the Jacuzzi as long as she cleaned up afterwards. I just want to be sure their not under two feet of water up there."
I laugh a "sure," and put down my towering pile of mousse and head into the house. Lillian is known to be quite daring and mischievous, even though she is the most adorable little girl I know. Who knows what she could be doing up there with her other little fan club.

As I climb the steps everything seems to be quiet as I approach my aunt and uncle's bedroom. I put my ear to the door and don't hear a peep. As 1 slowly open their door, I can hear faint laughter coming from the door across the room. I make my way to the bathroom, and now I can definitely hear music and splashing. As I jiggle the doorknob, I realize that of course it's locked. I knock harder.

"Who is it?" I hear Lillian shout above the music. There are unmistakable squeals in the background.

"Daria!" I shout into the door. Then Lillian's reddened face appears as she shouts to her friends that it's me and that I am free to enter.

At first I can't see anything. It's like walking into a cloud in the sky. I am afraid to continue walking, having lost Lillian in the blur and not having any clue where the Jacuzzi is located. Finally the steam dissipates and 1 can see the disaster inside.
Three girls are stretched out in the tub; their swim suited bodies covered in suds as if they are some kind of animals with a coast of bubbles. Another girl is in the shower and all I can see is her bright tankini. Britney Spears, of course, is blasting from a stereo and soapsuds are everywhere. They crown the faucets in the tub and frame all the corners of the floor. White fuzzy piles hang off the counters and drip off the walls. All the mirrors are completely fogged up and all metal surfaces are sweating. It looks like a huge soap bomb exploded. I am speechless.

Lillian jumps back into the hot tub, causing a wave of water and more suds to soak the floor. My first inclination is to start shouting at them like a parent, but then I remember what it was like being twelve and not having any responsibility or, for that matter, a care in the world, My shock must have been obvious, because after a couple of seconds of me surveying the room, Lillian looks at me nervously.

“Don't worry, Daria, we'll clean it up, we promise." I watch three uneasy, soapy faces nod in unison. The fourth is still in the shower. I feel my face ease a little bit and 1 smile back at them.

"I know you guys will." Then I glance in the mirror that is slowly able to give back my reflection and I look at myself in my khaki shorts and blue sleeveless shirt. My skin is tanned and my hair is sun bleached and my teeth are good and straight. I look more and more like a fifteen-and-a half-year-old, when I suddenly want to just be a twelve-year-old, where your worst fear is that Justin Timberlake might just marry Britney Spears and not you, even when you pride yourself on having every poster of him ever made and know every NSync song by heart.

Suddenly I am taking off my shorts and top and remain only in my light blue tankini. I
tell them all to make room and I jump in. I turn up the volume on the stereo to the song "Lucky" and dance around for them as they clap and roar with laughter. Then I dive in, as another wave of bath water falls onto the floor. I don't even think about it because I am lost in the moment of being young and having fun. We sit there as the jets propel bubbles all around us and I listen to them squeal about JC, Joey, and of course Justin and which one will be their husband. They beg me to tell them everything I know about Jeff Waters. We are lost in time. Suddenly I look at my soapy watch and tell them that we had better start cleaning up.

I grab an already soaked green towel and start to mop up the water on the floor. Lillian and her other friends follow suit, polishing the faucets, killing the overpowering soapsuds, and making sure all of the mirrors are sparkling clean.
As I wipe down the bottom of the tub, I think about how easy it must be to be so young and naive. I realize how important it is to still act like a kid and get lost in moments of spontaneity, for it eases the burden of age and brings more simplicity to life. The next day will start a solid month of high school. My soggy epiphany, courtesy of Lillian and her friends, is a powerful reminder that Labor Day has me caught in two worlds; the carefree days of summer and my youth, and the challenges of a new year at DHS as I step back into the whirlpool of life.

(14) Food for Thought-The Freshman

The clanging of the cafeteria ladies slamming lids onto pots, rings through my ears while the hot oil from the fry basket crackles in the corner. Crowds of tough senior guys push themselves to the front of the line that is forming in front of the counter. The more timid girls and freshmen edge their way behind the mass of starving jocks, but the braver ones push their way into the mess even further. In the cafeteria when the first batch of fries is being handed out, it is every man for himself. You can’t be too polite or generous, unless you want to go through the agony of standing for an hour waiting for the next batch which eats up most of your lunch time anyway so that you might not even be able to eat them once you finally get them. There is definitely a lot on the line when you choose to grab some fries for lunch.

Patsy and I squeeze past the madness towards the sandwich counter. The caf’s fries beat a roast beef sandwich any day, but they aren’t worth losing an eye over.

“I think I feel like eating fruit salad. Watermelon sounds so refreshing,” Patsy says, picking up a container and inspecting it. I grab one also, and my mouth instantly begins to water at the thought of having some kiwi slices that are piled on the top.

“You’re right.” I smile.

“Hey, how come you have like three pieces of kiwi and I only have one?” She asks as she grabs mine. We’re both giggling as I try and grab it back.

Just then I feel a weight hit my shoulder. Ready to yell at whatever stupid guy was pushed into me, I turn around briskly to find two boys that I have never seen before. They are looking at me, obviously embarrassed and trying not to laugh.

“GEEZ, John, you pushed me into a girl!” I look at the guy who said it and suddenly feel my cheeks feel hot and my heart starts hammering just like when I had first talked to Jeff. His hair is darker, the color of chocolate with caramel highlights, and he’s a little bit taller than I am. What hits me most about him, are his eyes. They are the most amazing eyes I have ever seen-a deep brown with tiny flecks that sparkle when he talks. There is something about them that just captures me and we stand there looking into each other’s eyes for a moment. Then he grabs his fries and walks away with his friends. I realize though, as he continues walking that he’s heading toward the freshmen caf.

Patsy and I both look at each other and start to freak out. “Who is he?” I ask her wide-eyed.

“I don’t know, but he’s GORGEOUS!” We grab our fruit salads, pay for them, and then walk outside to where the rest of our friends are sitting. The sky is a clear blue with a few sparse clouds, and yellow jackets are buzzing around tables like fighter planes, ready to land on teenagers’ Snapples and sandwiches.

Even from the shade where our table is I am hit with the humidity of the afternoon, and pull off my black cardigan so that I am left wearing only a turquoise shirt and khaki shorts. I take off the lid of the fruit salad, but I can’t concentrate on eating at this moment.

“Where’s Jeff?” Patsy asks as she takes a forkful of watermelon and holds it up to her mouth. I am relieved to see that Jeff isn’t sitting at our table even though, at the same time it makes me a little sad.

Ever since the first day of school when we had talked, there has been some sort of awkwardness present which makes me avoid seeing him in the halls, and forces me to be unbelievably quiet when he sits with my friends and me. We had gotten along so well the first day, and then the spark died completely and we both began to pretend our whole introduction never happened.

"He had to go see his English teacher or something." Cameron says through a mouthful of potato chips.

"During lunch?" Charlotte raises her eyebrows as she bites into a bagel. We're all quiet for a moment as everyone eats.

"Are you going to eat that, Heather?" Sam looks hungrily at the gooey chocolate chip
cookie that is already melting onto the wax paper it's wrapped in. Heather looks at it with disgust and gladly passes it to Sam. I roll my eyes at Charlotte. Heather's lunch usually includes a bottle of water and a peanut. She must go home and eat her whole house when no one's looking because no one could survive on that diet.

Heather looks at the cookie for a minute and then begins to talk.
"Oh my gosh you guys, I met the most amazing guy today in my badminton class, but get this, he's a freshmen! What a total waste! That is just against the rules, isn't it? I mean sophomore girls can't go out with freshman!"

"I don't know," Patsy says slyly, "Daria didn't seem to think so when one bumped into her in the cafeteria." This starts the whole table laughing and I laugh weakly along with them. Suddenly I am completely confused with myself. He's younger than I am, completely off limits and what happened to the burning desire to be with Jeff? Yet somehow, I can't help wishing that I could belong to those eyes. That one day I could look into them and tell them everything including, hey hun, how about braving that line and getting me some fries. . ..

(15) Goals

The warm sun beats down on my hands and face as I undo my ponytail and rearrange my hair into a tight, messy bun. My forehead is covered in a hundred beads of sweat and my t-shirt sticks to me like glue. After pulling the cotton fabric away from my back so I can breath a little, and adjusting my lacrosse shorts so they don't cling to my legs, I tighten my grip around my field hockey stick to focus my attention on Britney. Bringing my stick back with concentration, I smash it into the white ball lying on the grass.

Satisfied, I watch it fly across the field to her stick. Without even allowing the ball to stop against the side of her stick, she makes direct contact with it and I watch it zoom past me in a blur. It keeps on flying and soon heads straight for the bottom of the hill where the boys JV football team is walking down to their field in all their pads at the other end of the parking lot.

"Britney, go get it." I sigh.

"You go get it, Daria, it isn't my fault that you can't stop such a powerful shot!" She puts her hands on the hips of her bright orange Patagonia shorts and squints at me through the sunshine. I sigh again and slowly walk towards the parade of boys to retrieve my ball where it is slowly rolling all the way down the hill. As I approach the end of the hill, I am relieved to see Cameron walking with a crowd of juniors.

"Hey, Daria!" He adjusts the piece of equipment he's carrying to his other shoulder.

"Hey." I walk with him for a few seconds and head down the hill. “Britney sent our ball flying over here. I wish she would remember to just stop the ball before she sends it back!”

Cameron laughs. “It’s not her fault you can’t play field hockey.”

“HEY!” I punch him in the arm and give him a smile.

“GUYS!” Someone grab Daria’s ball, it’s by the wall over there!” Cameron shouts to his teammates. I watch the guys stop and look at each other in the shade. Jeff waits for someone else to pick it up, but no one does.

“Thanks a lot guys!” I laugh. For a few more seconds, the football players tell each other to go get it and no one does. Then, Jeff Waters sighs and drops the bright blue bag of jerseys he’s carrying and runs over to the wall. I am regretting more than ever that I gave in and ran over to get it myself. Now Jeff has to go get it for me! It is not as if I don’t have a pair of working legs, why didn’t I just get it myself? I wonder why everything with him has to continue to be so awkward. Scenes of the first day of school when we had walked and sat together at lunch flood through my mind. My face definitely must be three shades of darker red as she comes over and without really looking at my face, hands me the ball. I cannot help but enjoy the warmth that shoots through my body when I touch his hand and I curl my fingers around that ball.

Suddenly the familiar piercing whistle coming from the coach fills the air as I watch Jeff trudge with the other guys down the rest of the field. I turn around and run towards the growing crowd of girls around our coach. Leaning on my stick, I listen to her talk about the previous day's game. None of us really want to hear what she has to say. Yesterday we had our first game of the season and had painfully lost to Wilton.

"Girls! I realized by watching you almost faint on that field that I obviously did not prepare you well enough for game time! Today let's concentrate on running hard and well. I think we'll start with three miles around the track. You girls have GOT to realize that you aren't freshmen anymore. Field hockey might have been just fun and games in the past years, but now it's going to he more work and determination! Now let's see some GOALS next game! Did you girls already take a warm up lap?"

We all nod weakly.

"Good! Let’s stretch!" As I sit down angrily on the grass, I let what the coach has just bellowed to us sink in. I don't want to agree with her, but it is true. I have to realize that she's right. This year is going to be a lot different than freshman year. I pull my right leg in and stretch my arm to hold onto the opposite foot and continue thinking to myself. My stick work definitely is a little rusty this year. I definitely am not in shape. I am going to have to force myself to work hard, practice, study, and succeed scholastically and athletically. I am going to find that life really isn't all fun and that I can't waste so much time. Soon I am going to start driving and perhaps I'll be getting a job. I can't mess up this time. I am going to have to learn responsibility and with that, I need to learn how to make goals !
After being fully stretched, I run down the field to my sports bag and change out of my cleats and into my sneakers. Tying the black laces into a tight knot, I get up and run towards the track with a newfound burst of passion for the sport I have played since seventh grade. This year I am really going to hit one in there, and hit it hard!
I sprint down the hill, determination running through my body like blood. My body is as light as a feather, but solid as rock. I am heading for the Startup line of life this year, and this time I am going to definitely win this game.