Chapter 5
*Mikayla*
***
Megan and I were not at all what you would imagine best friends to be. We were polar opposites in almost every way. She was the head cheerleader with the smokin’ hot body, shiny long blond hair and sparkly blue eyes. She played boys, and boys were all for it. Megan knew who she was, and she used it to her advantage. People tended not to take her seriously, she played the airhead role to perfection but she was so much more than that, and I was one of the lucky few to see that side of her.
I met her when we were in fifth grade. She had just moved here for her mom’s job. I remember sitting in front of her in class while she chatted with everyone around us. All I could hear was her talking about her stationary. Girls love stationary. I was facing the front of the class trying to concentrate on the puzzles we were meant to be doing while she was giggling along, talking to whoever would listen about how she had two of everything. Emergency things she called them, emergency ruler, emergency eraser, emergency sharpener , etc. By that point I had lost focus and turned in my seat to glare at her. She just looked at me and smiled, a full teeth baring smile. I huffed and turned back to face the front fishing through my pencil case for a ruler to mark the margins of my next page, only to find that I didn’t have one, I must have left it in the book I was reading during lunch. I raised my hand, “Miss Spencer?” The teacher looked at me from her desk, over the frames of her glasses. “I uh… I don’t have my ruler… Can I um… May I please go to my locker to get it?” Before she could answer, there was a light tap on my shoulder. I turned around to see a ruler inches from my face. I looked at Megan questioningly, she just smiled back. “For emergencies,” she shrugged.
We became best friends.
***
The summer before freshman year, we were hanging out eating popsicles on Megan’s roof, that lead to her bedroom window. We were working on our tans, apparently that’s what high school girls did.
“Do you think people will make fun of us because we don’t have boyfriends?” she asked out of nowhere.
I hadn’t even thought about boys that way, I guess I was a late developer. I shrugged.
“I’m going to have a boyfriend within a month,” she declared, more to herself that anyone else. Then nodded once as if agreeing to it.
“Ok Meg, just don’t go dragging me into any of that, I’m happy with the way things are,” I said, rolling my eyes at her.
She snickered, “As if I’d even consider it. Do you think I don’t know you at all?” she mocked hurt in her voice and held her hand to her heart.
“I just don’t want to be one of those girls that has serious relationships through all of high school. It’s so not my thing, and when it’s over, I don’t want to do that whole… ‘where are you going to college? Should we go to college together? Who’s hopes and dreams are more important?’ blah yatta blah.”
She looked at me for a second then shook her hand, standing up, she started prancing around the roof dreamily, “Well, Miss ’15 going to 50’… I want to fall in love…LOTS… and I want to break hearts… LOTS, I want to have so many awkward first dates and first kisses at my front door, with lots and LOTS of boys. I want to chase and be chased. I want to hold hands down the hall with some amazingly gorgeous guy and have girls jealous because that guy only has eyes for me. I want to live high school. And I want to love in high school. And I want to have sex. Oh my god, like… so much sex!”
I stared at her, my mouth open in shock. She looked at me and broke out in a fit of laughter. It was a joyous sound that to this day still has me cracking up whenever I hear it. We sat on that roof and giggled like the innocent girls we were for what seemed like hours, but in reality was only minutes. Our laughter broke off when we heard a beeping noise. We both looked over to where the sound was coming from, over to the house next door and the U-haul truck reversing into the driveway.
“Oh, god,” Megan sighed, “The house has finally sold. I hope they’re not sucky neighbors. I couldn’t think of anything worse! Like old people that collect random shit to hoard, and they have to call the fire department to clear the house, only to find like,” she looks to the sky as if thinking “…a 5 billion pound woman stuck under a pile of empty snack sized chocolate pudding tubs, and then a crane has to come to lift her body out of the house like on ‘Gilbert Grape’, and they take her to a hospital so they can pump all the fat out of her body. Then 3 years later, some random kid emerges from that house, knocks on our door and asks, ‘have you seen my baseball?’”
I look at her for a second, then burst out laughing. Uncontrollable laughter that has the sides of body aching. I laugh so hard I’m pretty sure colored snot from my popsicle is oozing out of my nose. Hot right? I hear her quietly laughing with me, and then, “Holy shit, Mick… what the hell is that?”
I stop laughing abruptly and follow her eyes to see what the heck she’s talking about, and then I see him, and I think, “What the hell is that?”
It’s a boy. A boy better than any other boy I’ve ever seen before. He could be our age but he’s built bigger. Like, not an “I work out, I’m a jock” big, but like, I work… lifting heavy shit, kinda big. Farm boy big? I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about boys and big before.
“Let’s go introduce ourselves,” Megan states, already climbing through the window back into her room.
I sit frozen staring at him, as he slowly makes his way up to the front door, taking in his surroundings, like he hasn’t seen the house before. Maybe he hasn’t. Dark blond hair hidden under a baseball cap, dark jeans and plain grey shirt. I find myself wondering what color his eyes are, when he looks up suddenly and catches me mid stare. Kill me. Kill me now. I’m sure the blush has crept up to my face and I’m even more sure that he can see it. A slow smile lifts at the corner of his mouth and he raises his right hand in a small wave. I force a smile, which I'm sure looks more like I’m constipated than an actual smile. I start to lift my hand to wave back…
“Mikayla… Come onnnn!!” Meg screams at me like a banshee.
I stand up suddenly and hurl myself through the window, tripping on the eave and falling so unladylike, flat on my ass. “What is wrong with you?” She looks at me like I’ve grown a second head.
“Big boy farm.” WHAT? Please, Kill. Me. Now.
By the time I’ve calmed my rapidly beating heart and convinced Megan that I’m not completely insane, I find myself stumbling down her driveway and onto the driveway next door. We’re greeted by a lady who looks to be in her late 30’s, wearing sweats and unloading boxes from a cherry red truck. She sees us and instantly smiles. “Hi, you young ladies must be our neighbors?” she says, wiping sweat from her brow.
“I am, my name’s Megan,” she reaches out to shake the ladies hand. “This is my best friend Mikayla,” she nudges me.
“Uh. Hi, I’m… um Mikayla,” I say, shaking her hand. My eyes are cast downwards. I don’t want to look too much at the ladies face. She’s more than likely the mother of the boy whom I’ve just been eye licking.
“Well, you girls are just the prettiest picture,” she drawls in a thick Texan accent. “I’m Sam,” she faces the house, “Henry! Boys!”
Im still looking at the concrete of the driveway when I hear the front screen door open and close a couple times.
“Yeah, Ma?” says a male voice. I jerk my head up and see him, like, really see him. Brown, like the color of syrup, his eyes. He recognizes me and stands in front of me with a smile.
“Honey, this is Megan, she’s our neighbor.” He takes his cap off and shakes Megan's hand, never taking his eyes off me. “And this is her best friend Mikayla.” We shake hands, and I swear, sparks fly and my hand tingles with a sensation that roots me to the floor, something I have never felt before. “Girls, this is my son James, I have another one somewhere, much younger. I’m sure you’ll see him soon.”
“Nice to meet you.” James finally lets go of my hand and I weep internally.
Megan’s looking at me like she’s watching the third head ooze from the second head I’ve just grown. Luckily, she saves the day by actually talking to this James kid. I’m still trying to get over the physical shocks that have just sparked my body into life. They talk about school and sports and why they moved here, what there is to do in our small town, and everything else small talk might consist of.
From this, I get that he’s a freshman and will be going to our school. Great. I’ll be a struck dumb and mute for the next four years.
I hear my name, but I don’t know what was said.
Megan nudges my side, I look up at her, her eyebrows raised and head jerking towards James. I slowly look over to him. “Huh?” Im so fricken eloquent I can’t even handle it.
He clears his throat, “It was nice meeting you Mikayla, I have to get back to helping unpack. Hopefully I’ll see you around school or something.” He says it more like a question than a statement.
Before I get to answer a kid comes barreling toward us, he can’t be more than 8 years old. He runs straight to Meg and me so fast I don’t think he can stop in time. Both Meg and I put our hands out to stop him from crashing into us, but his legs save him and he stops mere inches from us. He glares at Megan, then at me. Seconds which feel like minutes pass, neither saying anything. Then he smiles, “Hey, have you seen my baseball?”
We can’t help it. We laugh.
2 weeks later, James and I are dating.
***
“You okay there, Miss Mikayla?” Heidi asks from across the limo.
I must’ve zoned out.
“Yeah…” I huff. “I just… I can’t believe I didn’t see it coming,” I say, as I pick imaginary lint of my dress.
“No one suspects the people they love of douchebaggery,” Heidi looks at me sympathetically.
“Or slutbaggery,” Lucy adds.