Pivot of Change - Suselle

Pivot of Change

The sound of shoe heels echoed through the hallway. Whispers were not uncommon and most days, Noelle would ignore them. Today was not one of those days. As her locker opened, her ears twitched at the mention of a name: Susie.

"Yeah, I know, it's weird."

"I just... don't get it. Like, bellbottom disco?"

A nod. "Bellbottom disco."

Noelle closed her locker as slowly as possible to hear more, but the ring of the first bell would lead her to believe she'd need to change her plans. Instead, it was simply a slight delay. The murmurs continued once in the classroom and with the low words came more information.

"That's crazy. Why the 70s? She doesn't seem like the type."

"I agree. 80s greasers or 90s grunge seem more like her style. I just can't see her in a glittering top dancing the night away."

The hot gossip of the school kids was that of Susie's interest in the 1970s. Was it the style? The music? Literature? Maybe movies? Noelle didn't know. She inhaled, saying to herself: "Maybe I'll... ask her." A rare burst of confidence that even she had little knowledge of where it originated from.

The second bell rang and class was set to start. Susie had but a few moments to spare, but those moments became minutes, then hours, and once those ran out, that's when the monster girl finally showed her face. The door opened and the ending bell rang. As the students left, so did Noelle's sudden burst of confidence.

Noelle approached her regardless, wanting to say something. Susie stared back as if she too had words on her mind. Noelle put her head down and Susie turned her back to her, both girls seemingly embarrassed of their lack of communication skills. They entered the hallway together but parted ways just as fast.

House Holiday was a quiet one more often than not and a lonely one, too, for Noelle. She wasted no time arriving back home regardless, she had plans and homework was not a part of it. Her parents had a collection of old boxes up in the attic that was mainly decor, but there was one exception: an old, dark, damp cardboard box that had seen better days in the corner. It was the opposite of small so she couldn't even lift it, even if the risk of the panels deteriorating wasn't there.

The side of the box had "'77 - '78" written in black marker. With no one to advise against it, the abandoned case had the new title of found treasure and Noelle was the one with the key. Or, in this case, scissors. She ripped the tape and pulled the sides, being greeted with decades of dust. She coughed and sneezed, but it was so worth it once her watery eyes weren't being attacked by grime.

Noelle grabbed the first thing she could and it was obvious which parent it had originated from: her mother. A pale pink dress with bell sleeves and flowers scattered about, mainly consisting of white, tan, and yellow. Just underneath, a hair curler and a scrap piece of paper wrapped around the tool with several rubber bands. After setting the dress down, she released the sheet from its containment to look it over. It was a tutorial on how to make your hair as large and curly as possible. Her excitement only continued when she uncovered a pair of red wine-colored boots.

Digging around past the things she had no interest in (yearbooks, her father's clothes, expired cigarettes), right at the bottom was a record player. The box was opened, but the piece of technology was safely stored inside. There was no hesitation to unearth it from the heap of fabric.

"If there's a player, there's got to be..." Noelle took a guess and looked behind the large box. To her surprise, there was another box, this time small enough for her to lift. She brought it closer and after taking off the lid, a collection of records awaited her with a flyer for a long past "GRAND OPENING" of a disco club.