Meet Me After Class

Chapter 1: 18th Birthday

"You're a fake and a phony, and I wish I never laid eyes on you!" Olivia Newton-John's character, Sandy Olsson, snarled on the large TV screen before tossing her red and white pom-poms furiously at John Travolta's bad boy character, Danny Zuko.

"But you'd still do him," Penny Lou, my best friend, remarked, looking bored and sleepy. She yawned for the hundredth time and stretched out on her stomach on the bed between me and my other best friend, Adam.

That night was my eighteenth birthday, and after blowing out the candles, slicing the red velvet cake my father baked, and a few glasses of wine my mom brought from work, it was finally movie time. And since it was my birthday, I got to decide what movie to watch.

We had seen the Grease. Several times already. But it's John Travolta! And since it was my birthday, my two best friends in the world, Penny and Adam, didn't dispute it and watched the movie with me in my room.

"You would, Adam, right?" Penny turned to Adam.

"I would what?" Adam asked, mouth agape and downright confused at her question.

I couldn't suppress the snicker that escaped my mouth. The question didn't surprise me as it did Adam. Despite the fact that all three of us grew up together and had literally seen each other scratch our butts and smelled our farts, Penny and I had different opinions on Adam's sexuality. She was pretty convinced, and with absolute certainty, that he's gay.

But Adam's normally messy black hair, grungy attitude, and his personal attachment to dark denim jeans and graphic t-shirts spoke nothing of him being queer. And although gifted with amazing blue-green eyes, he was usually anything but cheerful and merry.

Or perhaps I'm just uninformed?

"Do John Travolta," Penny answered casually and turned her gaze back on the TV screen, flipping her naturally blond locks behind her shoulder.

"Ha-ha! Hilarious." Adam's tone hung somewhere between sarcasm and annoyance.

"Okay, enough with this foolishness. It's time to talk about something important." As John Travolta and his gang laughed on the screen, Penny grabbed the remote from the bedside table and hit the pause button.

Adam sat up. His eyebrows creased from indignation. "Like what?"

Penny took her last slice of my birthday cake and grinned at both me and Adam. "Well, since she's 18 now, things gotta change."

I got up from the bed and sat on the chair next to my study table. "I'm not a werewolf or something. Nothing's got to change."

Unlike many other eighteen-year-olds, I wasn't really that ecstatic about being eighteen. I mean, along with the privilege to purchase cigarettes and alcohol, and even get married without parental consent in some states, and people start treating you like an adult — well, sorta — I couldn't really see what all the fuss was about.

The look on Penny's face told me that I had to be kidding her.

"You're a loser, you know that? First of all, you refused to have a party and invite anyone else from school. You shamelessly chose to celebrate your eighteenth birthday with us—" she pointed to Adam and herself"—your friends, your family, and John Travolta." She pointed at the frozen screen behind her.

In my defense, I wasn't close to that many people at school. Penny and Adam were my only real friends.

"Hey, I just wanted to celebrate this milestone with people who are genuinely dear to me." I winked at Adam, suggesting he back me up.