It was the height of sock hops and jukeboxes. The time when Rock 'n Roll was the soul of the nation and milkshakes ruled the soda shops. Everybody said it was "fabulous", but for Eleanor Harper the 1950's was the best and worst years of her life.
Af...
"And I think that's it," I said dropping the pencil against the table.
Incredibly, we'd managed to finish our entire research proposal in just two hours. I'd never finished any research proposal that fast, not even by a long shot. It was official. I'd be putting on a record of The Crew-Cuts for Mrs. David's Math-Homework Mondays.
"See?" Rider said, shutting the books we had splayed haphazardly across the table, "And we only started really cookin' after you managed to get that thorn out of you're skirt."
"You know? There's this thing called etiquette," I said with a laugh as I packed up my backpack, "It's a swell way to talk to people. You really should try it sometime."
"Like you're one to talk," he snorted.
"What?"
"Oh, come on! You've been biting my head off since the day we met. It's a miracle I was even able to get you to genuinely smile today, let alone work with me."
We gathered up our things, and Rider propped open the heavy door for me as I cradled my my books and our research proposal. We walked down the empty hallway to the heavy front doors.
"Well, if you hadn't been so down-right irritating every time you talked to me, I wouldn't have been so snappy," I retorted.
"Which time?" he asked, "When I was trying to get to know the girl who came crashing down on my sneakers, or when I was trying to get to know my lab partner who didn't want to talk to me when she crashed down on my sneakers earlier?"
"Then what's with getting me in trouble with Mr. McDaniel. He might know you, but I'm trying to make a good impression."
The entry doors squealed as we exited outside and sauntered down the stone steps.
"Little thing about me, Dolly," Rider said stopping at the foot of the steps, "Unlike the other squares in there, I'm not there to make a teacher's pet out of myself."
"Well I guess it's nice to know you're not a rebel without a cause," I said.
We had stopped at the bottom of the steps, the early evening light filtering between the clouds. A bitter breeze ruffled my skirt and sent a chill up to my arms, reminding me that February in New York was an entirely different experience from Nevada.
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"Well, I better start heading home," I said.
"Need a lift?" Rider asked.
"No, I don't live too far from here, thanks," I said before giving him a small wave and beginning my walk home, "Oh and Rider?"
I stopped and turned around.
"Thank you for your help. The books, the notes, the music...I really don't think I would've gotten a single thing done today if I was by myself."
