TAKE ON ME- Tommy Eaton, Summer of 84

Chapter one

"Vaginas are magical" my friend Curtis Farraday or just Farraday said blissfully staring at the pictures in an old porn magazine. "You grow bored of it when you have one" I said absentmindedly absorbed in my book 'The shining'.

"I can't wait to get laid" Farraday continued in awe his eyes glued to the page as I rolled my eyes. "Aren't you guys sick of staring at the same chicks everyday?" Tommy Eaton said.

Tommy Eaton, where to begin? We'd lived on the same road since kindergarten and became friends soon after in 1st grade. He was known for his bad boy persona and punk attire but in my eyes he was the best person I knew, and hottest (although I'd never admit it).

"You could always just- not look at porn?" I stated as they all looked at me as if I was crazy. "If you took your top of that wouldn't be a problem."Tommy said smiling as I went back to my book the pages covering my blushing cheeks.

No matter how many comments he made aimed at me my legs never failed to go like jelly. It was a hot day, and I wore a pair of high waisted denim shorts and a tight fitting yellow shirt.

"Or even feel up a chick" Farraday expressed.
"second base that's it? I i rounded up third once she was hot too" Tommy said proudly looking my way.

"Your mom doesn't count" I said my eyes not lifting from my chapter. The guys started laughing as another friend, Woody, said "and it happens to be a girl none of us know" I smile slightly at this.

"I was on vacation dipshit" Eats grumbled leaning back against the wall of his treehouse. "I would do anything to just get to know any base with Nikki" Davey said shyly almost.

"In your dreams Davey" I said as he looks at me.
"Yeah your wet dreams" Eats adds sniggering. 

Davey ignored him speaking to me on the matter "What do you mean?! We've hung out before"
"Her reading you a bedtime story doesn't count" I said putting my book down and leaning towards the others.

"She's to cool for you, I mean, you practically look like a baby next to her" I say to him as he looks crestfallen down at the ground.

"I was 11 not 4" his said kicking at the floor slightly. "Whatever" I said going back to my book for a bit not listening to the others until an uproar of anger came from the guys.

"What?" I say looking between them all.
"Eats asshole father over here wants to tear down the treehouse" Farraday says.
"Dude you can't where will I sleep!" Woody responds.

"Is he really going to do it?" I ask surprised. I didn't know a lot about Tommy's family but I could hear the shouting from my house down the road and could see him walking about at night sometimes with his Walkman trying to escape the yelling.

His dad sounded like someone who was always mad so it didn't really surprise me even if he did know how much the treehouse meant to his son.

"I'm not sure how safe it is sleeping up here anyway, not with the missing cases and kidnappings" Davey said in a tone as if he was continuing a story.

I checked my watch suddenly realising how are it had gotten. "Guys I've gotta go, my mom will be furious. I got up practically jumping down the treehouse and running to mine.

I climbed up the pipe running along my house to my window and threw myself onto my bed as I heard footsteps making their way to my room. Perfect timing I thought.

My mother swung the door open her eyes wild and hair messy. "When did you get here?" She said confused slurring her words. "You didn't hear me come in? I got in half an hour ago".

She walked towards me suspiciously. "Your shoes are on still and why is there mud on your windowsill?

For someone very drunk she had a good eye, when she was younger she dreamed of being a reporter but she never fails to tell me my birth was the reason she never perused a future.

I had made her ill apparently, raising me, my birth, all of it. So now she 'rots at home' whilst my dad pays child support whilst living in England.

That evening I lay on my bed writing in my diary. I didn't write in the sense of 'dear diary' I wrote story's and described my life with words I couldn't pronounce.

Suddenly I heard a tap on my window. I ignored it thinking it might be the wind that sometimes rattles my window, ignoring the fact it was a still night.

But then it happened again, and this time I dragged myself up and drew back my curtains revealing Tommy standing at the bottom of my window smiling holding stones from my driveway in his hand.

I open my window quickly as he begins to climb up the pipe smoothly and jumping from my windowsill. "Shhh!" I said listening but hearing the tv blare loudly from downstairs still.

"Not that I'm not thrilled your here, but why are you here?" I asked crossing my arms as he smiles looking down at me. "You ran off early I didn't say bye, so this is your room huh?" He said walking around just in time as I began to blush.

My walls were navy with various film posters and wall decorations. He sat down on my bed picking up my diary interested. I leant over grabbing it and shoving it in my closet as we spoke.

"My mom would've killed me if she realised I was still out, luckily she was too wasted to care" he nodded knowingly as he opened his mouth to speak when suddenly I said "sh"

I listened closely hearing footsteps make their way across the hallway. "Quick in here!" I said shoving him into my closet and jumping onto my bed quickly grabbing a magazine from my side table.

My mom stormed in looking around wildly. "Is there someone here?" She said peering at me anger on her face. "No I promise!" I said crossing my fingers behind my back.

"You better not be lying to me girl" I stare at her as she stares at me neither of us breaking first until eventually she said surely "your nothing but trouble" slamming my door behind her as I relax onto my bed.

"You can come out" I whispered as Tommy peered around the door reading my diary in his hands. I grab it off him my heart beating.

"That was private!" He smirked peering at me almost confused. "If I could write like that I wouldn't keep it private, your talented you should be a writer" I go bright red as I sit on the edge of my bed him sitting on the floors his elbows on his knees.

"I want to be a journalist but I don't know" we have a moment in silence as he looks at me almost strangely like he's seeing me as a person and not as a chick.

"I should go but I'll stop by tomorrow to pick you up" he says as he stands by the window sill as I walk over. "Talk tomorrow" I say as he begins his climb down.

I lay face down on my bed thinking about him. His clothes, his hair, everything about him made me feel like screaming.