7
Susie
* * *
One year later.
I take one look at myself in the mirror and am in awe. Today, I graduate from high school and finally become an adult. I’m wearing a short white spaghetti strap dress with little floral designs embroidered all over it. It’s a gift from Brady because I mentioned in one of our many letters that I saw it at the mall, but my parents thought it was too expensive. I sent him a photo of me trying it on and he immediately wrote back with a money order enclosed. He said I looked beautiful, and that I should wear it for him if no one else.
I smile slightly to myself thinking about Brady, the love of my life. It sounds silly because we haven’t seen each other since he left last year. However, we’ve written, sent pictures, and talked on the phone whenever we could. He said he’ll be coming home any day now and I can’t wait. I feel so empty when I’m in his home, just waiting for him to come back.
I shake off the feelings of longing and put my mortarboard carefully on top of my soft curls. One more swipe of lip gloss and I nod at myself in the mirror, ready to go. It’s weird because I look the same as I always do, but I feel so much different. This must be what they talk about in romance novels when they describe the sensation of love. My skin is glowing, my smile is bigger than ever, and I’m turned on all the time just thinking about Brady and all the raunchy conversations we have thousands of miles apart.
But it’s more than just raunch. We also love talking about the things that matter to us. He tells me about Afghanistan, and how he believes the war there is ill-fated. I tell him about my parents and friends, and how our lives seem so commonplace compared to what he’s going through. But Brady doesn’t mind. He loves hearing about my days because he says they remind him of what it’s like to be normal. I’m happy to provide that, even though I wish he could be here, with me.
Taking another deep breath, I skip down the stairs.
“God dang, took you long enough. I’ve been waiting for you for ten years,” my friend Marcella says with an exaggerated sigh.
I roll my eyes at my best friend as she stands, shaking out her own dress. I make a face at her.
“Girl, I’d rather be late than ugly. Now let’s go, otherwise we’ll be late for our high school graduation!” I shriek.
All annoyance melts right off Marcella’s face. She’s just as excited as me and we take off running to her car. She’s wearing a nude, strapless, tight fitting dress and white strappy heels. Her heels clatter as she dashes around to the driver’s side of her Toyota Camry.
I hop in the passenger’s seat and run my hands over the upholstery. “I love the new ride!” I tell her.
“I know, it’s nice, right? Thank you, Mom and Dad,” she sings, putting the car in drive and taking off down the street.
“This is the perfect graduation gift. I can’t believe your parents were so generous.”
She grins at me.
“Well, Remford State is a huge campus, so I’ll need a car to get around. I think my parents bought it for me for that reason. So I could go to school.”
My face falls immediately.
“Oh my gosh. I can’t believe you’re leaving me for college,” I whine.
She pouts her lips at me briefly.
“I know. We’ve been inseparable and now I’m moving like two hours away. But it’s okay, because thanks to my new graduation present I’ll be able to come home every weekend!”
I look at her skeptically, pursing my lips. She side-eyes me and starts laughing, “Okay every other weekend. And you know you can always come visit me. I know starting at Remford Community College wasn’t your first choice, but it’s definitely a much cheaper option than what I’m doing. You should be happy.”
I nod.
“No, it’s fine. I don’t really know what I want to do so it doesn’t make sense for me to go to a four-year school yet. I can just knock out my prereqs at community college while I figure out what’s next.” I lean my head back and look at the window, watching the fields pass by as we zoom to the high school.
Marcella nods.
“Don’t worry, you won’t be stuck there forever. Just enough for you to figure out what you want to do. And besides, you’ve seemed so much more chipper…I dunno…happier, like your parents aren’t bothering you like they normally are. Did you finally go out with Charlie? Is that the reason?”
I shake my head ruefully.
“Gross, no way. Charlie Treason is definitely not in the picture. I don’t care that we’ve lived around the corner from each other our whole lives. That’s not divine intervention. I don’t care how many times he asks me out, the answer will always be no, and a hell no too.”
She giggles at me. “Okay, okay. I’ll admit, Charlie is a hard pass. Too goofy and nerdy. Besides one of your ass cheeks is as big as both of his legs together!”
We crack up at poor Charlie’s expense. I’ve lived around the block from Charlie my whole life, so we’ve always been in the same class. He’s a sweet kid, with thick, coke-bottle glasses and a perpetually red face. Unfortunately, puberty was not so kind to him, and he’s also a mess of acne, braces, and glasses with tape in the middle. His greasy red hair flops in his face and his stutter makes it impossible to get through a conversation.
But Charlie’s crushed on me for years, and the boy finally got up the nerve to ask me on a date. It was awful. I said no, as gently as I could, but he’s refused to give up. Since then, he has asked me out once a month and every time I give him the same easy let down.
Marcella sighs.
“Okay then, well, what about Bud Koolhouse? He’s been in your face lately, plus y’all went to prom together! He’s the hottest guy in school and you’re not even interested. Plus, you blew him off when he asked you to the movies after prom? Bud is Iowa State’s new starting QB, by the way. What is wrong with you?”
I twist my lips at her. Marcella’s had a crush on Bud since forever, and I know she’s just a tiny bit jealous he asked me to prom, and not her. As a result, I try to moderate my response.
“Prom was fun, don’t get me wrong, and I’m sure Bud has a bright future ahead of him. But that was high school and I’m past that.”
Marcella cocks her head quizzically at me. I know I’m not making any logical sense. Any girl would kill to be in my position when it comes to Bud Koolhouse. Heck, many middle-aged women with babies and jobs would likely love the opportunity to be with Bud, but I can’t. Not when I have Brady on my mind. I see the confusion on Marcella’s face and decide to fess up to get her off my back.
I turn and look at her sheepishly. Taking a deep breath, I say, “Okay, it’s not Charlie, and it’s not Bud. I’m just distracted because…I’m in love!” I gush, closing my eyes and sinking back into the seat.
She looks at me wide eyed.
“Whaaat??? You’re dating someone and I didn’t even know? Who? When? Where? How? Whaaat?”
“I’m dating my neighbor!” I tell her excitedly.
She pauses for a moment, thinking.
“What neighbor? Mr. Joe? You’re dating Mr. Ankle Weights?!?” she asks, cracking up with laughter. “No way!”
I smack her playfully on the arm. “No silly, I’m dating my next door neighbor, Brady Firestone. Remember the hot soldier who lives next door? He’s been in Afghanistan for the last year, but he’s coming home soon and I’m so excited!”
“How the hell are you dating an old ass man that lives in Afghanistan?” she asks me incredulously.
I get defensive.
“He’s not that old. And well, we send letters, emails, and have even had a few phone calls. At first, they started out like really raunchy and sexy, but then we started talking about real stuff and fell in love.”
My friend is utterly baffled.
“So let me get this straight. You’ve never met Brady in person, but you’re corresponding with him?” she asks, her voice riddled with doubt.
I start to get frustrated. This is exactly why I was so hesitant to tell Marcella about Brady. The excitement and rush I was feeling are now gone. Instead, I’m deflated and exhausted from trying to explain this to her.
“No, it’s not like that. We met once, when I was watering the flowers and he was working in his yard. The connection was electric, and after he was deployed, I started sending him letters and care packages. He would write back, and then we started corresponding more and more, even by email and phone. It’s not that weird you know,” I add quietly.
We sit there in silence for a moment. Marcella looks to be deep in thought.
“Okay, I just didn’t know you could fall in love over letters, without being with someone in person.”
I turn to her.
“Marc, remember how we read Cyrano de Bergerac in English class? It’s like that. Cyrano and Roxanne fall in love via letters! Brady and I did the same thing, and trust me, it’s real.”
She nods slowly, her eyes still on the road.
“Okay. So you’ve been saving yourself for a man that lives in Afghanistan. You turned down Bud Koolhouse in order to wait for Soldier Daddy to come home. But he’s old, Susie. Does he need some help from Dr. Viagra to even make sure you have a good first experience? Wait, does he even know this will be your first experience?”
Loudly, I blow out air. I feel insulted by her shots at his age and these insinuations that somehow I’m a crazy person. She doesn’t understand, and would never understand.
“Yes, he knows it’s my first time and you know what? If you want to hook up with Bud Koolhouse, then just go for it. You’ve got as much ass and boobs as me. Bud won’t even be able to tell it’s you and not me,” I shoot at her. “Plus, Brady’s not that old. Thirty-five is hardly over the hill, you know.”
I can tell I’ve hurt Marcella feelings by how red her face gets. I instantly regret what I said, but I’m still hurt that she would even say that to me. Is it my fault that Bud likes me more than her? I didn’t ask for this either. But immediately, I’m repentant.
“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. But I really am in love and I’m super happy and just want your support and not your jokes,” I say apologetically.
She looks out her window briefly, and then softens up.
“I’m sorry too. I didn’t realize how serious this was for you and I shouldn’t have made all those comments. If you’re happy and in love, then I’m happy for you. Let’s just enjoy today. How many times are we going to graduate high school, after all?”
I smile at her. “Exactly. Plus, my parents are throwing a fun party at my house after. This is going to be the best day of our lives!”
We lock pinkies and smile big as we pull into the crowded parking lot of Remford High.