Crushes Over Papercuts- A Mid 90s Tale

Chapter 17

Pale pink, deep purple or bright blue?

I studied the three nail polishes atop my vanity trying to decide which color I should paint on my toes. I turned the blue bottle over to check the name. Denim Chrome.

Whose job is it to come up with weird or catchy names for polishes and eye shadows...and why has no school counselor ever mentioned it to me?

I settled into the usual spot on my window seat with my pillow behind me and a small towel under my foot to catch any fallen polish. This was how I spent my first Monday after that party- refusing to make any real decisions or choices for myself since I'd lost faith in my ability to choose correctly. It was the first night in my life that I longed to forget or wished to somehow undo.

I told my mom I wasn't feeling well and that I needed to rest, which wasn't a lie. I wasn't strong enough to face everyone at school since there was no hiding or denying what happened Saturday night. Word would get around. And how could I face Ben? What could I say to him and how could I truly thank him for what he did with anything other than a weak 'Thank you'.

I debated writing him a letter that I could deliver through Cody, or sending him a Hallmark card, which I quickly dismissed. Besides, I didn't even think Hallmark made a card for that. Nothing seemed sufficient so I pushed it out of my mind to keep myself from obsessing over it. Instead, I tried to distract myself with bad daytime television and magazine subscriptions I was behind on reading.

I stared out my window as I waited for the first coat to dry. The sun had set but its rays still peaked through the evening sky. I saw Ms. Webster from across the street walking her little black and tan chihuahua past our house. Rocco and Marty, two brothers I used to babysit before they aged out of it, rode their bikes around a big circle in the street while yelling something back to one another.

My mind drifted to fantasy land and I imagined Ben's Jeep parked across my street. I blinked my eyes to erase the image but it didn't disappear. My palms began to sweat. It was real.

Could he see me up here?

My curtains were only part way open- enough for me to see everything outside but not enough for someone to see everything inside.

Why was he here?

The only high schoolers that lived on my street were Alex and Nicole and I doubt he'd come by to visit them and if so, he wouldn't be parked outside my house.

I wanted to run down the stairs and knock on his window but what would I say? What if he wasn't parked to see me and I just walked up to him with one foot painted blue.

"What are you up to?"

I gasped and kicked the towel from under my foot.

"I didn't mean to scare you." My mom stood in my doorway munching on something in her hand. "What are you looking at outside?"

"Nothing!" I exclaimed and quickly turned from the window. I shook the nail polish bottle to release my nerves. "Just painting my nails."

"Blue?" she asked.

"It's called Denim Chrome."

She sat down at the other end of the seat and stared down at her toes. "Maybe I should try blue? Can I borrow it?"

"Sure. Yeah," but I wasn't watching her. The head lights on the Jeep popped on and Ben drove off.

"Maybe you could paint my toes after you finish yours?" my mom asked.

I tore my eyes from the now empty curb and finally noticed what was in my mom's hand. "Is that the last strawberry frosted pop tart?"

She swallowed hard on her bite. "Yes, but I'll buy us more."