Less Than Three

Chapter 33: It. Is. Done.

Sunday, June 29, 6:11 AM Term of the Day: Barometer - An instrument to measure the weight and pressure of the atmosphere

I'm taking breakfast in bed to Madison. If there ever was a situation where a barometer might be helpful, I'm guessing this is it. My plan is to fill her up on blueberry muffins and orange juice, then catch her while she is still a little gluggy. Maybe she won't kill me.

I'll check back in later. That is, if I am not dead.

She didn't kill me. But she might as well have. At first she was smiley. She loved the muffins and juice. But when the glugginess started to wear off, she turned mean. Really.

As in, "What is WRONG with you? There are girls who would KILL to have a boyfriend like Brady and you're going to WHAT? Throw him away because you're a teensy bit BORED or something?"

She yelled this at me. It woke up her parents and everything.

7:18 AM I think I will hitchhike to Madagascar.

I stuffed myself with the rest of the muffins and drank down the leftover juice while I decided on my next move. Once Madison's pancreas (or whatever) turned my food offering into energy to supply her brain, then maybe she would be more rational. I called her to test my theory. She hung up on me.

Perhaps if she saw it in writing ...

7:58 AM Bonus Term of the Day: Juncture - The point where two things join

Dear Madison, Let me try to explain. The time has come to end the juncture of Brady and Summer. It's sad. Believe me, I know. But it has to be.

Remember when I first met him? I still had my braces. I wrote all of my notes in glitter pens, with pink and purple hearts all over them. I thought I was looking for a relationship – but I didn't know what a real relationship was. I'd kissed three boys – four if you count Jordan's cheek.

Then Brady came along. He was cute. He was popular. He was sweet. I thought the greatest thing ever was just holding his hand. It's not like I don't know how lucky I am.

Every girl should have a Brady for her first real boyfriend. Someone who will put up with your moods and your friends and your stupid giggle fits. Someone to talk to on the phone for hours -- without ever really saying anything. Someone to give you teddy bears and candy and mixlists of your favorite band -- even though he hates them. Someone to give you grown up gifts too, like roses and perfume.

Falling in Love for the first time was the best thing in my life so far.

It's just that I don't think I am old enough, or mature enough, or *whatever* enough to say that this is IT. I am fifteen years old, Madison, not fifty-five. I want to have fun. I want to fall in Love all over again.

It's not Brady's fault. But it's not my fault either.

It's just time.

I am making a wish ... that I can do this thing without hurting the people in my life who deserve to be hurt the least. Will you cross your fingers for me?

I hoped she would call after church to say, 'Summer, dear old best friend 'o' mine, I understand completely. It's okay.' She didn't. She didn't comment on the blog either, although plenty of other people did:

1:24 PM The girls line up on two sides. Most of you think like flowrgrrl (but aren't as bold about wanting to take my place):

flowrgrrl: You're really going to do it. You dork. How long should I wait before I ask you for his phone number?