Only the Good Die Young

Chapter Five

Mom brought Michelle and I to the nail salon, since Michelle is spending the night. I had on Eric's jersey, number seventeen. Michelle made us get pictures together, since he had the white jersey that he'll wear tonight on, and I had the maroon counterpart. Eric wanted to take a picture of me on his back, but Michelle complained that no one would be able to see that I had on his other jersey. Big deal.

My eyes quickly scanned the wall of nail polish colors that I could wear. Mom was much faster than I, already finding the best color before I was even halfway done. Michelle looked like she wasn't even trying. I don't blame her, I didn't feel like looking either.

"This color would so match your dress!" Mom squealed as I sat down in a chair at the nail salon. She was pointing to a color that looked like an exact match.

"Wow, Mom, you seem more excited than me!" I laughed. She set the bottle down on the table in front of me.

"Probably because you're not interested in Eric, I bet," she replied, attempting a smirk. She's only kidding, since it's obvious that I like him.

"Totally."

"F.Y.I., I saw you two when I pulled in the garage the other day!"

"Mrs. Jones! Chill!" Michelle yelled, laughing along. I already told her about the incident of Mom pulling in while we were in Eric's car. She thought it was funny, and I didn't disagree.

Our funny conversation died down when the lady who does the nails came over and sat across from me. She examined my nails, the nail polish color, and a picture of my dress that my mom showed her.

The lady who does the nails is Mrs. Frederickson, and she has a three year old daughter. The whole town loves her, since she is the cutest little kid around. I once babysat for her, and boy does she pay well. Mr. Frederickson grew up here, but met her in college and brought her home after they got married. The couple has been here for around seven years now.

"Hello, Ryleigh! I heard you're going with Eric this year," Mrs, Frederickson said, giving me one of 'those' looks. "How would you like your nails?"

"She'd like that color," Mom interrupted, handing her the coral bottle. "And her shoes are silver, so this color as an accent."

"Wilma, although I know this is what Ryleigh wants, she's turning eighteen soon." Mrs. Frederickson is also known for her crude sarcasm, and inability to not show an attitude when she is joking. Sometimes I wonder if I have the same thing, since once in awhile, someone gets offended by one of my jokes.

"Thank you," I replied.

"I know, it's hard watching your baby girl grow up. She has a boyfriend now!" Mom complained. It's true, Eric asked me out yesterday when I stayed for football practice again. I told him that me coming wasn't going to become a regular thing, but he asked me to come to all of them and to be his girlfriend. How could I say no?

"You're such a beautiful girl. I can't wait to see your guys' pictures, since I know your mother will post them on Facebook," Mrs. Frederickson said.

I smiled and she began cleaning my nails. It was all fun and happy until I started to think again.

Michelle isn't going to Homecoming. She would be if Simon was still alive. Peter lives in Simon's basement. I wouldn't know that if Simon was still alive. Eric and I are dating. We probably wouldn't be if Simon was still alive. After all, it started because we were at Simon's funeral.