Teenage Dream

The doorbell rings late in the evening. I lay sprawled out on the bed, attempting to memorize Pharaohs’ names and the dates they reined. The gentle notes of Silent Night whisper from my stereo. I attempt to ignore the noise downstairs, pretending I’m not interested. It won’t be for me. The door is never for me. I’m a freshman band nerd with a couple other outcast friends. Rarely do I speak to anyone on the phone, let alone see them in person. Still, I close my eyes and dream. Dream with every beat of my heart, that he is on the other side of the door.

I strain to listen. Footsteps tap across the tiled entrance floor. The door creaks; then silence.

“Allison!”

The word knocks me back and I tumble to the floor.

Mom calls out, “are you okay?”

“Yeah, just give me a minute!” I rub my aching hip and take a deep breath, trying to ease the pounding in my chest.  Why on earth would she be yelling for me? I open my bedroom door and walk across the second-floor balcony. Stopping at the landing, I glance down. Through the glass door, I see him.

               It couldn’t be. I grab my wrist and pinch. A tiny burst of pain erupts. This isn’t a dream. Standing at my front door is Seth Adams. Senior class god. Basketball star, homecoming king and drum major all rolled into one. Everyone knows his name. Girls in the halls swoon when he walks by. He is THE guy. And there he stands behind that glass door.

“Are you coming down?”

“Of course,” I say as calmly as possible, trying to hide the surprise in my voice. I bound down the stairs a little too quickly and force myself to slow on the last two steps. Be cool. You have no idea why he’s here, maybe he’s at the wrong house. Stop envisioning your future with him.

“Thanks Mom,” I chirp, my eyes boring into hers, internally pleading for her to go away. My shoulders release as she walks off. But she throws out, “remember it’s getting late,” before disappearing from sight.

I swivel around to face him. My legs start to wobble and I grip the door. He smiles and shakes his head, eyes twinkling and lips parting. I long to feel those lips. To run my fingers through that short, brown mane. Mussing the perfect hair that never moves. I take in every feature, visually cataloging what I can only describe as perfection. I will never forget any part of him.

“Are you going to open the door or just stand there looking goofy?”

I let out a giggle. Then I inhale deeply, trying to keep my cheeks from burning. “Do you want to come in?”

“How about you come outside?”

I reach out and grab my coat, slipping it on while simultaneously opening the glass door and stepping outside. I try to do this in a graceful manner. The result, instead, depicts me floundering like a walrus. My arms flap together over my head. I twirl as I fight to get in the coat, and swing myself through the threshold out onto the front porch. I blow some strands of hair from my face, bring my hand to my chest, and take a bow. “That concludes the floor show for the evening.”

He chuckles and shakes his head again. “You really are goofy.”

I wince. The last thing I want is to be seen as the comedic relief, the trusty side kick — but I do love making him laugh. It brings a radiating smile to his face. The warmth of that smile penetrates my inmost being and turns into beams of energy. That energy is so strong it defies gravity, and allows my feet to lift right off the ground.

Pulling myself back to earth, I examine him again. Seth Adams is standing casually before me on my front porch. His hands are stuffed in the pockets of his letterman jacket, but he’s standing on the balls of his feet. Almost as if he’s leaning towards me. I think of the words he’s said so far and nothing sounds rushed. I just don’t understand.

“Why are you here?”

“I have something for you in my car.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, c’mon.”

“O-kay.”

We walk down the path, where his car sits parked in the street. It’s a bold, black, two-door beauty. The frame is wide and curved, with winglets jutting off the back. I don’t know much about cars but I know his is a 1960 Ford Starliner. An American classic. He loves and pampers that car more than anything I know. I’ve often dreamed of sitting there next to him, hitting an open road and never looking back.

I stop before reaching the car. His figure darkens as he disappears behind the doorframe. Waiting for what he could possibly have for me, my thoughts drift to how we got here. How it is that Seth could be in front of my house, alone with me. I met him the first day of summer band camp. As a timid creature about to enter high school, I saw this paragon of masculine confidence and splendor, and I melted. I don’t know how my legs moved but I found myself crossing his path. He lifted a hand and said, “Hi, I’m Seth.” So casual, like he wasn’t the most gorgeous guy I’d ever laid eyes on. He welcomed me and quickly gestured I enter the band hall. I floated past him, unable to concentrate on anything that happened that day. My heart felt so full it could burst and all my thoughts found their way back to him. Every chance I dared, I glanced at Seth.  

Throughout camp, he spoke to everyone. I watched him move between every section, instructing and correcting everyone equally. He never treated a freshman different from his fellow classmen. I was in the flute line and the only chance I had to speak with him was when he talked to the entire line. The line, of course, being all female. Everyone laughed and flirted with him, and I was no exception. I poked fun at his car and the way he always said “easy now” when someone came on too strong.

I soaked in whatever moments I could steal from him, knowing there was no way I could ask for more. But he was so friendly and kind. I attempted a relationship with a fellow freshman and it didn’t go well. When it ended and I was hurting, Seth stopped me in the hall and told me it would be okay. He said I was worth more than I knew. That he saw the amazing person I was. I figured he was just being nice. But one night, he reached out to me online. We shared stories and dreams. He told me the fears he faced after high school. I didn’t understand why he’d chosen to share so much with me. But I wasn’t about to question the gift I was given, and so our online friendship continued.

The door shuts and I’m snapped back to the crisp night. Seth places a package in my hands. The paper is red with gold ribbon tied around it.

“Merry Christmas.”

I steal a small glance in his eyes before gently tearing the paper. Inside is plastic packaging holding a portable cd player with headphones. An online conversation about music runs through my mind. I mentioned wanting one. Tears form in my eyes. I keep my head down, turning the gift over in my hands, hoping he won’t notice. He remembered; and I’m overwhelmed.

“Thank you,” I whisper, barely able to get the words out. My stomach churns as voices battle in my head. One questions could he ever be mine? Another laughing at the absurdity. He’s a senior, I’m a freshman. He’s someone. I’m no one. A cold wind blows past and I begin to shiver. Then warmth surrounds me as Seth steps closer. He reaches out and rubs my arms. I feel his eyes trying to find mine, but I keep looking down.  

“I know its cold out but I have one more thing for you.”

“Seth, this is already more than enough. I don’t even have anything for you.”

Soft fingers touch my chin, and my head lifts. A tear escapes and his thumb wipes it away. I fall into his eyes. They whisper words of comfort and truth into my soul. My body relaxes and I silently pray for time to stand still.

“Close your eyes.”

“Why?”

He lets out an amused sigh, “Just close them.” 

I close my eyes. Another gust of wind whistles past my ear. My heart produces its rhythmic thump-thump. The portable cd player starts to pull my hands down with its weight. I focus on keeping it level with my chest. I strain to hear Seth but I can’t. There’s no movement; no footstep or voice. Trembling returns as I start to wonder what’s going to happen. Panic mounts as I’m sure a punchline is coming.

Suddenly, cool leather presses against my hands. I hear a shaky inhale and feel moist air run down my cheek. My skin buzzes with electricity as his hair brushes across my forehead. I hear a second heartbeat as flesh crosses the bridge of my nose and a palm cups my chin. Then fireworks explode as his warm lips meet mine and the whole world disappears.