The Rocky Road Pact

Chapter 2: Walking on Sunshine

June, 1989

Yeow!

The familiar yelp followed by a blast of horns made me pull back the covers and jump out of bed as my alarm went off — I had it tuned to the radio and Walking on Sunshine was playing. It was the perfect wake up song for what was about to be the best day ever.

The song was relentlessly chipper; it used to annoy me back when I was younger and pined for a boyfriend. The thought of someone jumping around ecstatically happy filled me with bitter jealousy. But now that I have Brandon, I felt as light and bouncy as the singer. 

I used to think maybe you loved me now baby I'm sure
And I just can't wait till the day when you knock on my door

I sang along with the radio while I lathered my hair. This song was rad, why did I ever hate it?

Twenty minutes later I emerged in a cloud of scented steam, spritzing myself with my favourite perfume. The scent was like cotton candy mixed with Kool-Aid, blended with honey and I loved it. More importantly, Brandon loved it. I'd smell sweet and pretty for him when he got back from college. After all, it was the day I'd been waiting for. And everything had to be perfect. 

I plugged in my curling iron and sat down at my vanity to begin the makeup routine. It took a full hour most days but today, I took extra care. Ugh, just my luck to have a breakout now, of all times!  I dabbed concealer on the zits that sprouted seemingly overnight — one right in the middle of my forehead and one on my chin. I was so pissed off, I could scream. 

After covering them, I applied foundation, peachy blush and hot pink lipstick. Then it was time to do my eyes. I bought special makeup to bring out my baby blues. I pulled down my lower eyelid and slid the creamy, electric blue pencil along the waterline to both eyes. It stung a bit and I blinked rapidly. Then it was time for shadow — I coated her entire eye with pink shadow, then swiped a pearly blue shade across the lids. Perfect. 

Tonight was THE night. The night I'd been dreaming about, ever since Brandon and I had gotten together. We'd made out a lot over the last six months and had some over-the-clothes action, but I was 18 now and there was no time like the present to fully consummate our relationship. 

Oh and also, I was graduating from high school. And I was the valedictorian. But the other stuff was way more exciting. 

I had everything planned to the last detail — I booked a room at the local hotel with my mom's credit card; she thought my girlfriends and I were all staying over for safe grad. I'd arranged for champagne and candlelight. I bought a racy negligee for the occasion. I wanted the evening to be special — not just special, but perfect. After all, Brandon was only in town for the weekend; back from veterinary college just for my graduation and then he was leaving again for the whole summer. This was our only chance to be together before he left. Our relationship was growing closer every day and I wanted to bring it to the next level. 

I blow dried my thick, wavy hair thinking about the day ahead, and then when it was dry, I piled it on top of my head in a messy bun. So many hours to get through before I could see Brandon.  Starting at the bottom,  I curled every strand of my head, turning the unruly waves into perfect coils. When I was done, I bent over at the waist and ran my fingers through the coils and sprayed them with about half a can of hair spray. You can never have enough.

I flipped back up, the curls were nice and fluffed and I got a ton of height on top. I teased my bangs until they looked like a dark waterfall across my forehead and doused myself in more Final Net. 

Ten minutes later, I stood in the mirror with my dress, gown and square graduation cap, feeling a sense of pride at my accomplishment. "Oh, honey," Mom said from the doorway. "You look perfect!" 

"Thanks Mom. Where's Dad?"

"He had to go into work early. Don't worry, he'll be there.  We wouldn't miss your big moment for the world. Imagine, Valedictorian! We're so proud."

I wasn't sure what to say. There was one tiny glitch I still had to work out before I could commence with her perfect day. The English teacher hated my Valedictory speech, and she had to approve it. Mrs. Bradford insisted on seeing a draft before the big day and tore it apart. She said she had some 'notes' which meant she probably completely rewrote it. I had to go in early before the ceremony to work on it with her. Ugh.

"Mrs. Bradford has some feedback on my speech," I said, grabbing my purse. "I'll see you all later."

"I can't believe that old battle axe is still teaching, I had her when I was there! Is she still a hard ass?"

Mom wasn't usually this chummy with me. I don't know why, but no matter what I did, I couldn't seem to crack the thin coating of frost that seemed to surround her when it came to me. My little sister Jackie could get away with blue bloody murder, but me? If I wore the wrong colour or shade of lipstick, she was on me.

"The hardest," I said, happy for this brief show of camaraderie. Mom was seldom on my side and this felt good. I gave her a smile as I passed her and she grabbed me for an unexpected hug. I was surprised to find tears in my eyes when I blinked. I hugged her back, thrilled. My perfect day was off to a pretty good start. 

It was a brilliantly sunny day, and warm. Of course it would be. Everything in the universe was aligning so that I could have a beautiful day and night to celebrate my launch in to adulthood. I felt almost guilty to have a life this good and said a silent prayer of thanks as I backed mom's Honda Civic out of the driveway. She was letting me borrow it today to run errands and finalize my speech before the ceremony and would head into work with Dad. I was lucky; my parents had more money than most, both of them working in media. Dad was a sports editor with the local daily paper and Mom sold ads for a magazine. Our six-bedroom, three bathroom house wasn't the fanciest in town, but was one of them. 

I put the top down and sang along to the radio, Forever Your Girl by Paula Abdul. The radio was playing all the good tunes. It was a great song to launch into the day. Because I was forever Brandon's girl and she couldn't wait to make it official. 

I loved being engaged. I held up my ring finger and imagined the giant rock he would buy me eventually. 

Ok, so I guess we weren't technically engaged. But we talked about marriage one time. I asked him if he could see himself proposing one day and he shrugged and said, 'sure, I guess.' That was good enough for me. I couldn't keep it to myself, so I told all my friends, even though their reactions ranged from laughing to openly scoffing, to gentle scolding.

"Come on now. You're too young to be engaged," my best friend. Creegan admonished when I told him. "We're not getting married tomorrow!" I rolled my eyes. "We're talking at least two or three years, till he finishes college! And then we're going to get a house and get married like we planned.

That's why tonight was so, so important. Maybe if everything worked out OK and we had the magical night I dreamed about, we could speed up the timeline.

Pausing at the stop sign, I closed my eyes for a second, trying to hold onto the moment in my mind. I felt like I was on a roller coaster about to crest a hill and plunge down into fun and excitement — my life was waiting for me, an adult life where I made my own decisions and had control over what I did, finally.

A loud honk from behind startled me into the present. "Fucking move!" a guy yelled. People around here had no class. "I'm going," I yelled, blasting my horn in return and pulling ahead. An old guy in a red pick up truck passed me, laying on the horn so loud, it startled me. 

"Asshole!" I yelled. Not even one of the local yokels was going to harsh my mood. 

Enough with being a kid. It was time to grow up, live life on my own terms. And it would all start with a night to remember.