I Love You

That Saturday air was thick with humidity and I spent my morning finishing my chores as fast as possible so I could be released from the prison of my mother’s supervision and into the open arms of my best friend Andrea for our sleepover. 

On our way back from the park, we stopped by the fast food joint I was never allowed to go to in the park. Our legs felt itchy from the prickly, smooth skin of the green grass. When we arrived back at the house, Andrea’s mother, Mindy and her boyfriend, Rob were arguing in the kitchen. “He’s been drinking,” she whispered into the dark, motioning that I should stay outside. I watch her sneak past the battlefield and up the stairs by her room. 

The trampoline was damp from the sprinkler system which had been on earlier in the evening and I placed both hands on the blue plastic covering the springs as I lifted myself up, careful not to spill our drinks or dinner. Andrea smiled mischievously when she returned and began passing up the blankets to me. I dried my left hand off on one of them, victim to the pool of water I hadn’t noticed. It wasn’t as well lit as we had hoped, but we buried ourselves under quilts patched together by her grandmother, an old princess comforter from when she was ten, and a few generic cotton blankets in blue, pink, and green.

My eyes darted to the kitchen where the shape of her mother danced around her boyfriend. We could hear the accusations of infidelity countered with “You’re drunk!” and “We have a guest! Settle down!” Andrea pretended not to notice and gossiped loudly that she really liked her boyfriend while furiously dipping nuggets in honey mustard. I went along with the ruse, but ate more slowly. I relished in juicy chicken nuggets. I breathed in deeply so I’d always remember the smell of the French fries. Giggles escaped my partially closed mouth as I bit down on crispy French fries and then I swished it all down with cold, bubbly, Cola. I shook my cup full of ice in delight. It was over all too soon. 

Once I finished my dinner, I called my boyfriend. He was my first boyfriend ever. It was a title I would have tattooed across my chest in cherry red ink. I was also one of the first girls in my class to have a boyfriend. This brought eager young peers to my desk, wondering how I convinced him to call me his girlfriend. Andrea was the only one who didn’t treat me differently when it came to me before Teddy and me after Teddy. She was the one who convinced me Teddy liked me in the first place while we pumped our long, skinny legs high in the sky as our butts warmed in metal swings and our faces winced from the heat of metal chains baked in the sun that our little fingers clutched to. I told her she was crazy to think a guy like Teddy could like a girl like me. She told me I was crazy to think a boy like Teddy couldn’t like me. Andrea was the self confidence I lacked.

As always, his mother answered and called for him. I heard him rush to the phone which filled my heart with happiness. I told him about my day and he told me about his while I swished more soda in my mouth. I resisted the urge to tell him I loved him. We had only been dating for a month. Beside me, Andrea packed up our trash into the paper bag from the fast food restaurant. He said goodbye, I said goodbye and hung up the phone, staring at his phone number and imagining my name with his last name. I watched as the kitchen light was turned off and we sat in darkness. I scooted closer to her. The cozy backyard now felt menacing. We were unprotected sitting on the trampoline with no net. The playground that Andrea’s little brother Bradley had been playing on a few hours earlier now seemed like the menacing home of a dragon. Andrea laughed at me, “You big scaredy cat.”

“I just don’t like the dark!” I fired back. 

She wrapped her arms around me, “I know. Is that Teddy still being good to you?”

“Yes.” I blushed boldly in the dark. She and I giggled together, sloshing the remaining ice in our drinks. 

“Good.” asserted Andrea. “I’ll be right back.” Gingerly, she grabbed the trash bag and her almost empty soda cup, slurping loudly at the slightly soda mostly water mixture. She jumped from the trampoline and walked into the kitchen. I was left in the dark imagining myself as a rich woman in the future. The kind of woman who goes to restaurants and doesn’t worry about the expense after tax of her meal. She was the kind of woman who wore stiletto heels, which my parents had banned from our home, and red lipstick. Future Teddy would love that woman. He’d find her charming and beautiful while kissing her softly pinked cheeks. His lips would still taste like peppermint, but he’d be taller. We would be the couple to watch, I decided.  

I gazed up at the moon, a slim crescent in the sky. I wondered if Teddy was sitting on his bed, staring at the moon, too. He had described his room to me as large, painted all blue, except for the ceiling which was painted black. He told me his dad had climbed on a ladder for hours, carefully painting glow in the dark stars on his ceiling one weekend in accurate constellations when his mother announced her pregnancy. His father painted a perfect circle in the very middle to represent the full moon.

“My dad’s not a big talker,” he explained to me one afternoon in the park, “But he loves astronomy. My mom said that was his connection to me.” I smiled at the memory before imagining a trophy shelf above his twin sized bed with all his academic achievements lined up in neat rows: spelling bee awards next to perfect attendance certificates snuggled to the right of boy scout badges and snapshots of Teddy with his cello between his knees at a concert. My nervous breathing slowed as I pictured him tracing the constellations with his right pointer finger. 

Andrea shocked me out of my fantasy as she sprang onto the trampoline, tipping my soda onto me. I gasped, but no liquid came out as she burst out into laughter. Gleefully, I giggled with her. Our laughter filled the summer air like fireworks, popping out of us before going quiet for a moment-our eyes would meet and we’d laugh again. Andrea threw the blankets to the side and sprawled herself out in the middle of the trampoline while I bounced around her. She shrieked with joy. My long, dark hair flew in the air. With each bounce my heart was filled with more joy like a balloon. My eyes gazed to the sparkling stars above me and then down to my friend. After a moment, out of breath and exhausted, I flopped beside her. She leapt up and bounced me for a bit. In this perspective, I could watch her chestnut hair streaked with purple, red, and blue hair dye dance in the breeze. She concentrated her gaze on the black trampoline, ensuring she didn’t land on me or my soda. We laughed and laughed. Finally, we settled next to each other and stared at the sky. 

My mind drifted to what future Andrea would be like. Would she wear a long, lilac colored dress at our wedding? Would an adult Andrea still have purple streaked hair? Would she laugh over a glass of champagne at the reception because she knew us before the rest of the world did? “Do you love him?” she asked me. I turned to face her, looking into her green eyes and nodded. “You should tell him,” she commanded me between gasps of breath and quiet giggles. The version of me that Andrea loved and trusted knew she was right. If I was going to be Mrs. Theodore Peterson I better tell him I love him. 

“I’m not like you, Drea,” I protested. “I’ve never said that to a boy before.”

“Tonight’s as good as any and if you don’t tell him he might find someone who will,” she asserted and sat up. Her little finger twirled a curl around itself. I suddenly became filled with anxiety at the image of adult Andrea in a white wedding dress marrying Teddy because I was the coward who couldn’t even declare a feeling I had felt from day one. 

“I don’t know,” I sighed and stared at my phone. I recalled his number onto the screen and stared at the time: 9:30pm. Crickets chorused behind us. The delicious taste and excitement of the meal had dissipated. My tongue ran over my front teeth, desperate for a lingering taste. Andrea left me in my thoughts. A dog began to bark and we both screamed before erupting into laughter. Andrea offered me a hug and I was comforted against her hot skin. 

“If it’s how you feel, you need to tell him,” she demanded. “I’ll tell Ben tonight if you call Teddy.” She held out her hand and I shook it nervously. Andrea grabbed her phone and texted her boyfriend, Ben. While we waited, I slurped my soda loudly. Andrea texted some more and I rattled an empty Styrofoam cup. I stood up to throw it away in the kitchen trash can. I was a mouse looking for an escape from the woman in the kitchen with a broom. 

“You sure you want to go alone?” Andrea asked. Suddenly, she had a worried look and a furrowed brow. I wasn’t so sure. She tossed aside a blanket, tucked her phone in her back pocket, and got up with me. We stepped off of the trampoline. My toes hit cold grass and squished moist soil. I followed Andrea to the sliding glass door. Andrea pulled at the white handle. The sound of the door was deafening as we entered a home asleep. She tiptoed onto the white tile, I reached for the light. Andrea spun around to meet my gaze,

“Do not turn on the light,” she warned and motioned for my cup. I went to pass it to her, but it fell. We watched helplessly as the cup crashed to the floor like a skyscraper in a monster film. Andrea looked angry at me. I lingered in the doorway, anxiously. She slowly reached down and grabbed the cup. Andrea tiptoed to the black trashcan in the corner by the white refrigerator and pushed down on the pedal. It opened and she delicately placed the cup on top of the trash. I watched as her fingers curled around the blacktop and her foot lifted from the pedal. She placed the lid on top of the cup and snuck back out to me. Together, we wrapped our fingers around the handle of the big, glass door, and closed it. We raced back to the trampoline, away from the monsters in the house. 

Once we returned to the safety of the trampoline and buried ourselves in the blankets, she pulled out her phone. Triumphantly, she showed me that Ben had said he loved her back via text. “You’re turn,” Andrea insisted. I pulled out my phone and pulled Teddy’s phone number back up. I dialed his number, suddenly cold in the night air. His mother answered, annoyed I had called so late. Again, she called for him, again, he came to the phone, again he answered.

“I just needed to call you to tell you something important,” I said while gazing at the night sky for confidence. He was quiet on the other end of the line. I swallowed the lump in my throat, “I love you, Teddy.” Teddy was silent for a minute. I felt the terror of possible rejection. I replayed the times we had kissed, the times he held my hand while on walks in the park, the ice cream visits with our family. I dreaded seeing him as our families spent lots of time together if he said no. I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed the hot phone tight against my ear. 

“I love you, too,” Teddy said.

I released my death grip on the phone and my left ear burned slightly from the pressure. Andrea was smiling next to me. She had heard the whole conversation. I repeated myself and he did, too before he said good night because his mother wanted him in bed.

I laid back, the trampoline cool against my back. I smiled like a fool in love at the sky. Partially, because I now had a boyfriend who loved me and partially because we weren’t brushing our teeth which gave me a sense of rebellion. Andrea, furiously typing at her phone with her own boyfriend, sat next to me. The glow of her phone lit up her slightly pink cheeks. Suddenly, I felt exhausted. I adjusted my pillow and fell asleep. I could feel Andrea give into sleep not long after. 

We awoke cold and startled. The rain pounded around us. 

“Andrea!” I yelled, “What’s happening?” 

She sat up dazed and furiously pushed sopping wet hair out of her face. We looked up and found the sky black with a rainstorm. A clap of thunder caused us to screech. We scrambled to grab blankets and pillows as fast as we could. We landed on a muddy lawn and reached for our flip flops for protection. I had to crawl under the trampoline, reaching for my left purple shoe. The scent of wed mud penetrated me and seeped into my mouth. I gagged in disgust. 

Under the trampoline, the rain poured down a symphony of mother nature.

I squinted in the darkness and hit the ground as I felt for my shoe. Another clap of thunder caused Andrea to beg me to hurry up. We rushed to the door and opened it as fast as we could. In the shelter of the dark home, we leapt up to her bedroom. We ditched the soaking wet blankets in the tub and she handed me a towel. “Stay quiet, don’t wake up Brad!” she said. I was happy to get dry and changed into a pair of shorts she had shoved at me. I smacked my mouth, the lingering taste of moist soil remaining. Andrea reached into her bed side table and handed me a piece of gum. It tasted minty, but also slightly stale and of the cigarettes her mother clung to for dear life. We clambered onto the bed while lightning lit up the room. Andrea pulled the purple sheets and comforter over us. Gingerly, we pulled out phones out of our pockets, praying silently. Mine turned on. Hers turned on. The light helped us see each other; we looked like drowned rats. Our long hair hung in stringy clumps and we smelled like summer rain mixed with mud. We burst into laughter which Andrea immediately hushed. 

She handed me a pillow and we faced each other, laughing into the pillows that we clung to in our laps. After we settled down she instructed me to turn on my phone and help. We dragged the heavy, wet blankets down the stairs to the washing machine. We took our wet towels and cleaned up the mud off of the wooden stairs and through the hallway. The damage wasn’t bad, just a few clumps and streaks. Outside, mother nature continued to roar. When we returned to her bedroom, I glanced at the princess alarm clock by her bedside: 3am. We passed out from exhaustion. 

The morning came faster than we thought as I awoke to the bright sunlight pouring through her thin, pink curtains. I wiped my eyes and glanced at the time: 8am. I sat up, reaching for my phone. Next to me, Andrea turned away from me. I texted my mom good morning and stretched. I hopped into her shower. The hot, steady water washed away the fears of last night, but I replayed my conversation with Teddy five times. I let the hot water into my mouth. I was relieved to use Andrea’s fancy vanilla body wash. Mud had remained in uncomfortable places last night and by the time I returned, Andrea was awake. I was wrapped in a soft, pink towel. It smelled like Andrea. She tossed me her phone which had a few games for me to enjoy. Andrea’s family bought her a smartphone. My parents couldn’t afford the luxury. After she showered we headed downstairs, following the smell of bacon. At the table, her mother’s boyfriend cut up pancakes for Bradley. Mindy smiled and laughed at us. We noticed the washing machine was on and a few of the blankets were folded on top of the dryer. 

“I see the storm took you girls by surprise,” she teased and plopped a few pancakes onto our plates. I apologize profusely, “Don’t worry about it,” Mindy assures me. We gobbled our meal with few words spoken. The adventure had depleted our energy. After breakfast, my mom comes to pick me up. Andrea and I sit on the curb outside her home, watching little black ants scurry along to pick up breakfast. The warm sun feels good against my back.

Andrea smiled at me, “I told you you could do it.”

My mother picked me up and I waved goodbye from the front seat. Andrea stood tall in a little yellow sundress with red polka dots. I watched her become smaller and smaller in front of the little white house.