Waiting for You
I love the beginning of the year. It's all about renewal and reinventing yourself, becoming the person you've always wanted to be. You can go back to school as a whole new person and have a totally different time. Every year I get all excited about how everything's going to be different, but it never really is. I'm tired of always being disappointed. This has to be our year.
It feels good to knock on Sterling's door with "a Wheel" playing in my head. Like I've come full circle after a long journey, even though I've only been at sleep-away camp for two months. But this is such a "a Wheel" moment. That song rocks. The best part is where John Mayer says how our connections are permanent, how if you drift apart from someone there's always a chance you can be part of their life again. How everything comes back around again. I have a theory that the answers to all of life's major questions can be found in a John Mayer song.
Sterling flings the door open. Her hair isn't brown anymore. Now it's blonde.
"Oh my god, your hair!" I yell.
Then she grabs me and we're hugging and squealing and doing this thing where we're hopping around.
"I know!" Sterling goes. "It was supposed to come out more like yours, but the stylist said your color is complicated."
"Why didn't you tell me you were dyeing it?"
"I wanted it to be a surprise."
"Oh, I'm surprised."
"So, what do you think?" Sterling twirls around so I can inspect her hair from all angles. It's a lighter blonde than mine, since my hair has different shades of blonde mixed in, and I'm not sure if it works with her coloring.
"It's hot," I say. Maybe I just have to get used to it.
She points to my usual stool in the kitchen. "Sit," she says.
Sterling took over the kitchen when she was twelve because her mom can't cook. Plus, she's never here. And Sterling got sick of eating things like hot dogs and Tater Tots and those instant pasta sides every night for dinner. So one day, Sterling announced that she was doing all of the cooking. Now she takes cooking classes and everything. Her mom was thrilled. The agreement is that Sterling puts what she needs for the week on the grocery list and her mom gets everything.
There are four different pots going on the stove. Vegetables in all different colors compete for space on the counter. Two place mats are set out across from each other on the other counter where we always sit, with cloth napkins and schmancy silverware.
"You didn't have to do all this," I go.
"Of course I did. What kind of lame welcome home dinner did you think I was making?"
"Yeah, but it's so ... extensive." I had to beg my parents to let me come over to Sterling's for dinner since it's my first day back and all, but they finally let me. And we're going to a pier party after.
"Only the best for you, friend girl."
"Wow." Something bubbles in one of the pots. Everything smells so good. "Thanks for doing all this."
"Please. You're the one who's doing me a favor. No one's tried any of this stuff yet. Well, except for me, but I'm not exactly impartial." Sterling picks something out of a bowl and stuffs it in her mouth. "I can't stop eating these," she says. "Try one."
I peer into a bowl of weird-shaped cracker thingies that look like someone cut them out of cardboard. "What is it?"
"Feng Shui rice crackers." Sterling used to have this tone with me when I asked her what something was, like, How can you not know this?
But now she's used to my culinary ignorance. My family is basically y the meat-and-potatoes kind.
Slowly, I stretch my hand into the bowl, as if a rice cracker might bite me. They feel kind of sticky. But I don't want to insult Sterling, so I take a small bite of my cracker. "Hmm."
"Aren't they so good?"
I guess I'm not a rice cracker person. "They're ... different," I tell her. Which I know will make her happy. That's like the highest compliment you can give Sterling about anything going on in her kitchen. She's into the exotic.
"I know." She chomps into another cracker. "I've already eaten like a whole bag of these."
It's hard not to be jealous of Sterling. She's so tiny, but she eats constantly. If I even look at a doughnut I immediately gain five pounds.
Sterling darts to the stove and multitasks between two pans and a massive pot.
"What are you making?" I ask.
"Risotto. Wait, I have to concentrate on this part. It's all about the timing."
While we're eating, Sterling tells me about her new lifestyle plan. She got on the self-improvement train the first day of summer vacay and is riding it right into sophomore year. "Okay. So." She puts her fork down. "Do you need more sauce?"
When my cell rings, I'm relieved. I can finally tell Nash everything. I have a feeling that he'll find a way to make me feel better.
I tell him about the separation and everything my dad said and the fight I just had with my mom.
Nash goes, "I can relate."
"Really?"
"My mom ditched us when I was eleven."
I knew Nash only lived with his dad, but I've never asked him where his mom is. I learned to mind my own business the hard way. I was friends with this girl in middle school who only lived with her mom. When I asked where her dad was, she told me he was in rehab. I stopped asking after that.
But Nash was the one who brought it up. So I ask, "Why did she leave?"
"I don't know exactly. She just said, "? can't do this anymore.' And the next day she was gone."
"That's just like what my dad did. Only, he didn't tell me anything."
"I hate that you're going through this," Nash says.
"It's so unfair. My parents were like the only ones who weren't killing each other. They didn't even fight!"
"I have an idea. Can you come over?"
"When?"
"In like, half an hour?"
"I'll be there." I could not get out of here fast enough.
"When my mom left, there was one thing that made me feel better. I think it might work for you, too."
"What is it?"
"You'll see when you get here."
I don't know what I was expecting. But when Nash flings open the door to his room and booms, "Ta-dah!" it wasn't this.
He's got his room set up like a private movie screening. A stack of DVDs is on the coffee table. A big bowl of popcorn is on his bed. And there's extra pillows for me to lean on because he knows I love the extra pillows.
"Wow," I say. "This is impressive."
"Thank you, thank you."
"You didn't have to do all this."
"I know. But I wanted to."
Nash is into obscure and/or retro movies. I'm not so much into the obscure, but I'm definitely liking the retro. This one time when we were burned out on the longest lab write-up ever, we took a movie break. He wanted to watch this one called Pump Up the Volume, but I voted for When Harry Met Sally, which started this whole detailed critique of every eighties movie Nash had ever seen. So now he has a stack of eighties movies, some that I've heard of and some that I haven't, and watching them together is his plan. Which I think rocks.
"How old is he?"
"Seventeen."
"I'm impressed!"
"I've decided to give boys my own age a try. They can't all be rejects. I mean, look at Nash."
The breeze feels awesome. I love this time of year. I've decided to stay home this summer. Camp was great, but now there's too much going on to leave.
We walk way down on the boardwalk and I win a penguin at the ringtoss.
"For you," I say. I push the penguin at her.
"But you love these guys."
"So do you."
Eventual y, they come out to meet up with us. Mom and Sandra.
And Jack.
"Hi, Sterling," Mom says.
"I like your penguin," Sandra says.
Sterling goes, "Thanks. Marisa won it for me."
Mom's like, "You remember Jack, right, Marisa?"
Here's someone I never thought I'd ever have to know, much less like. But he looks nervous, too. And if Mom likes him" no, loves him" then he can't be such a bad guy.
I go, "Hey, Jack."
"Hi, Marisa. And Sterling. Thanks for coming out to dinner with us."
"Can Sterling come, too?" I blurt out. I hope she doesn't kill me. I just suddenly need her there.
"Of course she can," Mom says. "Should we cal your mom?"
"She's out of town," Sterling says. "And my grandma won't be over until nine."
"Then we're ready," Jack says.
So the five of us walk down the boardwalk together. It's kind of like a new extended family for Sterling, too. It's sort of awkward, but we're all trying to make things better. I can't wait to see what happens next.
55
I find him out on the dock. Somehow, I knew he'd be here. I could already tell that the sunset was going to be incredible, so I brought my camera. I walk out to where he's sitting. He's leaning forward against the rail with his feet dangling above the water.
"Hey," I go.
Nash looks up and smiles. "Hey, you."
I sit next to him and watch the sunset begin. This summer is going to be the best. Being with Nash, swimming in the river, sharing the dock with him in this whole new way. It's kind of scary to think about how things might change. But you can't get to the place you most want to be without taking a chance. I finally found who I've been waiting for and I'm not losing him again.
We sit for a while with no one saying anything. It reminds me of that time I sat with him out here and he wasn't even talking to me. I just wanted him to know I was there.
Nash smiles at me. "This is for you." He holds out a small jewelry box.
When I take the lid off, there's a note inside. It says:
"You mean the junior prom?"
"Yeah."
"Why are you asking me so early?"
"Sweet. I know you've been looking forward to it for, like, ever, so ..."
"How do you know that?"
"Because I heard you tell Sterling."
"When?"
"Um ... in eighth grade? I sat behind you in physical science, remember?"
Way back then, while I was talking about how my dress would look and what kind of flowers would be in my corsage, Nash was listening. I can't believe he remembers all that.
"I remember," I go, "but I can't believe you do."
"I remember everything," Nash says.
The sunset is all pink and red, burning the sky. I want to take pictures of it, and timing is everything. The colors will change in a minute and then all of this will only be a memory. But I don't pick up my camera. I want to keep this in my heart and remember it forever that way. Just like John Mayer does in "3x5." Some things just can't be experienced through a lens.
I've been thinking a lot about what happened with Derek. I think I've figured out what the problem was. We were never really friends. Not the way Nash and I are. Derek was the idea of what I wanted my boyfriend to be instead of actually being the right person for me. It's like Derek was the perfect picture, but Nash is the real experience.