Twenty One - Listen to Music

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When I was around seven, I went searching through my Mom’s messy closet upstairs. I don’t remember why; maybe I was looking for a tie so I could pretend to be grown up, maybe I had managed to somehow get lost in my own home, maybe I was hopelessly bored and looking for an adventure in scarcely mapped places.

Whatever the reason, I ended up  contemplating a pile of fully wrapped presents on one frosted December afternoon, suspicion growing when almost the exact same formation of gifts appeared under our sparkling tree a couple days later. That was the first time I started to doubt the existence of Santa Claus, and it was all downhill from there.

Somewhere between then and now, my parents had also completely given up the pretense of our holiday gifts being shipped from the North Pole and delivered personally by some jolly old elf with a pot belly and ice white beard. It was a sort repeat of that belief disproving day from my childhood when, every Christmas, all of the presents I received had been handpicked by none other than myself a few monotonous weeks earlier. That was okay, I supposed, because it ended with me getting stuff I actually wanted. I pretty happily sacrificed the surprise in order to save time returning useless gifts that I’d have to fake smiles while opening.

I hated faking anything. Half of the words I said were irritated lies, and I didn’t need more crap to repetatively bluff about, so I went along with a smile when May and my mom alerted me that we were going to the mall for holiday shopping. Well, my features were contorted into more of a grimace than a grin, considering that this happened at, like, eleven a.m. on Sunday, and I had a strict rule against getting out of bed until noon whenever possible. But I sucked it up, showered and dressed, and slumped into the back seat of the car later that afternoon. I played Temple Run on my phone and listened to Jimmy Eat World in order to distract myself from the fact that my teenage sister was driving on the way there since I could still not find it in myself to trust her behind the wheel.

It also happened that I’d been texting Zack while hastily blow drying my hair, sending him my plan for the day after being prompted. Zack responded that his mom needed to return some things and he wanted to check out new skateboards at some shop I’d never heard of, saying that he’d meet me there. My mother gave me some cash and sent me off once we arrived, my eyes immediately falling on my old best friend, sipping one of those disgustingly healthy green smoothies that seemed to be from the Jamba Juice he was standing next to.

I grinned at him with a half wave once I spotted him, quietly thinking about when the last time we’d been alone was. Zack was a great guy and an awesome friend, but, as much as I hated to admit it, he hadn’t been a very top notch friend to me once he got together with Rian. I understood, I did, that he was preoccupied with being in love with that little nerd, but I couldn’t help getting slightly more annoyed each time he ran off to watch Rian’s marching band practice instead of playing Mario Kart in his basement with me, like we used to during all of our Middle School free time. I wished that I’d appreciated those years while they were happening.

I was looking at the snow flitting down through the tall mall windows as Zack called a ‘hey!’ and plopped a Strawberry Surfrider drink in my hand, Futures playing as background music in one of my ears as I figured that maybe, after all, life wasn’t all that bad.

___

“C’mon, I only have like ten dollars left! Please?” I begged, grinning through the pout I was trying to put on as my blond friend rolled his eyes at me. I’d blown almost two hundred bucks on the items in the Hot Topic and Music City bags slung over my elbow. I only bought, like, ten CDs, and, to be honest, that was not a decision that I’d be regretting any time soon. Music was everything to me.

“Maybe if you hadn’t spent all your money on records you already own, you wouldn’t have this problem,” Zack retorted, completely ignoring me as he continued shoving mini gummy bears into the sugar filled plastic bag in his hand.  We had somehow been attracted to the only sweet shop in the mall, and I did not actually want to spend the last of my cash on cavities, but I also couldn’t live without the giant gummy strawberry that I’d found. Seriously, that was too good to not eat, and my lack of pride perfectly enabled me to beg for it.

Smile On His Lips and Cuts On His Hips (Jalex)Where stories live. Discover now