Walking After You | Dave Grohl

eighteen

October 26th, 1991

“OW, STACY,” Nessa complained, whining as Stacy tried to untangle her fingers from her curly locks. Convincing Nessa to get her hair done had been a hard enough task, and Stacy didn't want to give her any more reasons to complain. “Are you doing my hair or trying to rip my scalp off” 

Some things never changed, and it was moments like those that took them back to their high school days when they were teenage girls. Stacy rolled her eyes, smirked, and muted a laugh. 

“Sorry, it’s just so… matted”

If eyes could kill, the blonde would’ve dropped dead right there at that moment, because when Nessa turned her head to look back at Stacy, her brown round–shaped eyes were practically made of sharp daggers. 

But Stacy knew her well enough, and only ignored it though, turning her face forward once again, and focusing on interlocking Nessa’s curls into a neat braid. “I'm almost done,” she promised distractedly.

Nessa sighed audibly and slumped her shoulders. “You said that half an hour ago, and yet it's taking forever...” she muttered. 

Again, Stacy dismissed her complaints by focusing on her work. “But this time I'm almost done,” she finished the french braid with a black sparkly ribbon and smiled contently, satisfied with the way the hairstyle brought out Nessa's almond eyes and seemed to lighten her face. 

“See? All done”

“I don't even understand why we're doing all of this,” Nessa got up and walked towards the mirror oner her dresser and inspected the result of half an hour of dread. “Frick, I don’t even understand why we're going out”

“Frick? Your students are rubbing off on you,” Stacy teased, giggling.

Nessa rolled her eyes and smiled at her own reflection, realizing that her middle schoolers were indeed leaving a mark on her. And she was proud of it. 

Stacy hopped out of bed and walked towards her, stopping right behind Nessa and staring at her through the mirror. “And we're going out to celebrate your birthday, silly”

“It's not until tomorrow” 

“It will be tomorrow as soon as midnight rolls around,” Stacy countered. She watched as Nessa inspected her outfit in the mirror, clearly still not sold on the idea of going out. “C'mon, don't be a drag. It will be fun! Our boys are gone, I'm lonely, and you've been sulking for days… we totally need this” 

“At least yours will be coming home soon...” Nessa mumbled. 

Stacy bit the inside of her cheek and then leaned against Nessa, resting her chin on her shoulder and offering her an apologetic smile.

“You know what we should do? We should just date each other” 

For the first time that night, Nessa actually let out a genuine laugh. “Right, because that one time it worked out so well...” she teased, and Stacy was quick to smack the back of her head. 

“We swore to never bring it up again!” She cried. “And it wasn't that bad…” 

The two of them giggled, looking at each other through the mirror. Nessa straightened the black turtle-neck vest on her body and then sighed defeatedly. “Okay. You've won,” she admitted. “Let's go get drunk”

Stacy hopped on her feet and clapped excitedly, celebrating her success. “Great,” she sang, grinning. Her eyebrows furrowed, though, when her eyes found three white roses on top of the dresser. “Ooh, how cute! Where did these come from?”