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You waited waaaay too long for this. Sorry, I  have school :/

 Sorry, I  have school :/

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THIRTY SEVEN  

They say that after you wake up, you can't remember anything for the first three seconds. And then, by the fourth second, everything comes back to you: your name, your age, where you are, what you feel like having for breakfast. Sometimes, if you're lucky, you'll remember what happened the night before and it'll make you smile.


I grin at the ceiling of my room and throw the covers off. Of course I remember. Even during those so-called three seconds of pure ignorance, I'm pretty sure I remembered. The Valentine's dance is permanently etched into my brain, I think, and I'm never going to forget it. I sit up and face East, very aware of the smile plastered on my face as I look toward the Pinkette house.

It's Sunday morning and the light, as usual, is beautiful mingling with my tangerine colored curtains and littering my room with bright orange rays. It makes me feel all bubbly and fizzy inside like sparkling champagne.

I am going to pop.

I'm just climbing out of bed when I hear a sound. And then another and another. It's sharp and solid and pretty soon I figure out that something is being thrown against the glass door leading out onto the balcony of my room. I jump out of bed and fling the door open. I find Dean standing there on his bedroom balcony, getting ready to throw another one of whatever he threw in the first place.

I narrow my eyes and purse my lips, not wanting to give my true feelings away by smiling too soon. It's more difficult than I thought, particularly when Dean is looking at me that way. 

Or looking that way. 

Or both.

"Good morning neighbor." Dean says. I can tell he's trying not to smile too. He rests on his elbows on the railings of his balcony and looks at me. Suddenly, I'm self-conscious about my hair and my little pajama shorts. I look away from him and at the floor. It's littered with little blue glass beads, apparently what Dean had been throwing. I pick one up and rub the tiny thing in my hands.

Finally, I look back at him. "Good morning Pinkette." I say and copy his position. I can't help it any longer. I smile at him.

We stare at each other for a while and then he finally gives in and smiles back. It's a big goofy grin and I love it.

"Nina told me to come over." Dean says. "Her commercial is airing in, like, ten minutes."

"Five!" Nina calls out from somewhere in the house.

I laugh. "You better hurry." And then I run back into my room to do something with my hair.

What'd I'd like to call five minutes later but was probably 20, I walk down the stairs and into the kitchen, like my lips were just naturally that soft and pink and my skin was naturally this smooth and my hair always lay down perfectly on my shoulders in the morning. Dean and Nina both look up at me as I walk in.

Dean smiles. Nina frowns.

"This is why I told you five minutes." She says, pointing a little accusing finger at me, "Because I knew you were going to be late."

"Sorry." I say, "I'm here now." I raise my hands defensively, as Nina shakes her curly head in faux disapproval at my hair.

"And your hair is a mess." She adds jumping off the bar stool and walking away into the living room. Flustered, I head to the microwave to check my hair but Dean reaches out and grabs my hand, stopping me in my tracks.

"You look fine, Valerie." He says, "Pretty." My name is a song. And then, just like the day we were baking, I am somehow against the wall and Dean is standing in front of me. This time, it's not awkward like it was back then. I definitely do not want to push him away. I lean in and kiss him easily, thinking that I could do this forever. Dean pulls away when Nina yells from the living room.

"People!" She says, "It's going to be on in 4, 3, 2...."

Dean grins at me and steals one last kiss and then we run to the living room. I drop onto the couch next to Dean. My thigh tingles as he bumps his knee with mine. I bump his knee right back. A bowl of RainbO's sits on the coffee table like a prop and Nina is at the edge of her seat eating from it like it's popcorn. The infomercial on the screen ends and finally Nina's pretty face come on. It's in black and white and she's looking sad in a kitchen in front of a plate of toast.

"I wish I had something delicious to eat." She sighs, "Instead of boring toast." TV Nina pushes the toast away. Real Nina giggles. Dean guffaws. Then, literally out of nowhere, there's fairy on the screen, waving her magic wand and giving Nina a bowl full of RainbO's. Suddenly, the world is in color! And there's music!

I laugh as Nina stands on the sofa and does the same dance moves as TV Nina. Dean gets up and pulls me off the couch, then twirls Nina and me around and around. I throw my head back and laugh.

First, there's a stutter, like something starting up. And then, louder, a noise like an engine. We stop dancing. I hear the faint sound of my mom groaning somewhere in the house.

I know we're all thinking the same thing. No. Please, not again.

I want to go to the window and scream but Nina taps my shoulder and points to the TV, pouting as she says something about 'the best part'. I can hardly hear her, far less the TV. I make a dive for the remote and bring the volume all the way up. The cereal clips are over and TV Nina is back on screen grinning from ear to ear.

"And that's - - " TV Nina starts. I don't catch the last part. The noise is worse-- loud and clear and unbearable. I give Nina a sympathetic face as her advertisement ends. Nina pouts and covers her ears, trying to block out the noise. I groan again.

We go to the window and look for what the culprit is. "I thought they were over that." Dean yells when we find it.

It's a lawn mower. Two in fact, with my dad and Mr Pinkette behind them. Harmony for them, chaos for us. Dean makes a face. "This is what we'll have to deal with every Sunday?" He says. I barely even hear him.


"I guess so!" I shout over the noise.


"What?" says Dean, and then he laughs. We push the curtain aside again and watch as my Dad and Mr Pinkette happily mow the lawn together. There's no arguing--and that's great-- but the noise of one lawn mower was bad enough.


"This is ridiculous." I think Nina says. I can't agree more.

This was ridiculous.

I mean, who the heck mows their lawn on a Sunday?



THE END

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