She's Just That Kind of Girl

Thirteen | Violet

I examined my surroundings while we waited and realized that there were two cars in the driveway. How could I have missed that? People do live here! Dios mío, I'm going to hyperventilate. A 1986 electric blue Dodge and a 1989 midnight Bronco Ford Full-Size 4x4. Interesting taste.

The door swung open and my attention returned. I stared eye-to-phone with a pretty, older teen, about sixteen or seventeen, concentrating on replying to a text. Her eyes moving with the letters her busy, quick thumbs typed.

Without looking up, she asked. "Yes?" She brushed her hair with her fingers, revealing caramel highlights. Her stick thin figure in a light blue spaghetti-strapped undershirt and rolled up, grey, Alabama Crimson Tide sweatpants. Ay, mierda.

Tanner and I glanced at each other. "Um, can I speak to an adult? Like your mom or dad?" I said, choking on the word dad.

The girl looked up from her phone only to yell, "Yeah. Ma!" behind her, then returned to her phone. "What's the name?"

"Violet Adair and Tanner McGrey," I said for both Tanner and myself.

She turned her head back again. "VIOLET ADAIR AND TANNER," she acknowledged us finally by gawking at us in a mixture of realization and shock, "McGrey." Her jaw dropped farther than her phone from her hands.

I bent down to pick it up and handed it to her. She stood there awkwardly staring at us. Well, mostly at Tanner. With him around, I got less attention. Which was nice actually. Not having all the attention on me for once. Tanner's the stud quarterback for the Crimson Tide and we're in Alabama, I get it. It's a natural reaction. Wait, did I just think studquarterback?

"Oh my god. Tanner McGrey and Violet Adair are at. My. Door! This can't be happening! And such an unlikely pair at that," she said, squealing almost like a piglet, "I'm gonna go grab my polaroid, I'll be right back!"

The boisterous teen sped off as her mom approached the doorway. "What's all the commotion over here?" she asked her daughter, but got no response.

The mom contemplated us as she leaned against the door frame, plopping her reading glasses on top of her blonde head like a celebratory crowning for reaching your forties. "May I help you?"

"Hi, I'm Violet and this is Tanner. I used to live here about eleven years ago, and I haven't been back since. I was wondering if I could take a gander around, just to see how it turned out after all this time?" I asked politely.

The mother placed her hand on her hip and shot us a suspicious eye as she thought. She pointed at Tanner. "Tanner McGrey, what do you know! This is amazing! You, knocking at my doorstep, incredible!" Her finger moved to me. "You look familiar. Where have I seen you before?"

The daughter returned giddily and with a giant, vintage polaroid around her neck. "Ma, how could you not know who she is?" she said in disbelief. "She's only, like, one of the best singers in the world. With the best band in the world."

I snuck a small grin at the teen. Thanks, kid.

The mother shrugged cluelessly while the teen rolled her eyes.

"Well, come on in then," the mom said, motioning us inside.

I could see all the changes just observing from one spot. The house layout was the same, but everything in it was different. The appliances, the lights, the counters in the kitchen, and the carpet, gone. Replaced by wood flooring. A brick fireplace built into the wall in the living room and a sport-pool with a hot tub. Caray, are these new owners wealthy? They did a number on this old rock pile.