Sunday, June 29, 6:11 AM Term of the Day: Barometer - An instrument to measure the weight and pressure of the atmosphere
I'm taking breakfast in bed to Madison. If there ever was a situation where a barometer might be helpful, I'm guessing this is it. My plan is to fill her up on blueberry muffins and orange juice, then catch her while she is still a little gluggy. Maybe she won't kill me.
I'll check back in later. That is, if I am not dead.
She didn't kill me. But she might as well have. At first she was smiley. She loved the muffins and juice. But when the glugginess started to wear off, she turned mean. Really.
As in, "What is WRONG with you? There are girls who would KILL to have a boyfriend like Brady and you're going to WHAT? Throw him away because you're a teensy bit BORED or something?"
She yelled this at me. It woke up her parents and everything.
7:18 AM I think I will hitchhike to Madagascar.
I stuffed myself with the rest of the muffins and drank down the leftover juice while I decided on my next move. Once Madison's pancreas (or whatever) turned my food offering into energy to supply her brain, then maybe she would be more rational. I called her to test my theory. She hung up on me.
Perhaps if she saw it in writing ...
7:58 AM Bonus Term of the Day: Juncture - The point where two things join
Dear Madison, Let me try to explain. The time has come to end the juncture of Brady and Summer. It's sad. Believe me, I know. But it has to be.
Remember when I first met him? I still had my braces. I wrote all of my notes in glitter pens, with pink and purple hearts all over them. I thought I was looking for a relationship – but I didn't know what a real relationship was. I'd kissed three boys – four if you count Jordan's cheek.
Then Brady came along. He was cute. He was popular. He was sweet. I thought the greatest thing ever was just holding his hand. It's not like I don't know how lucky I am.
Every girl should have a Brady for her first real boyfriend. Someone who will put up with your moods and your friends and your stupid giggle fits. Someone to talk to on the phone for hours -- without ever really saying anything. Someone to give you teddy bears and candy and mixlists of your favorite band -- even though he hates them. Someone to give you grown up gifts too, like roses and perfume.
Falling in Love for the first time was the best thing in my life so far.
It's just that I don't think I am old enough, or mature enough, or *whatever* enough to say that this is IT. I am fifteen years old, Madison, not fifty-five. I want to have fun. I want to fall in Love all over again.
It's not Brady's fault. But it's not my fault either.
It's just time.
I am making a wish ... that I can do this thing without hurting the people in my life who deserve to be hurt the least. Will you cross your fingers for me?
I hoped she would call after church to say, 'Summer, dear old best friend 'o' mine, I understand completely. It's okay.' She didn't. She didn't comment on the blog either, although plenty of other people did:
1:24 PM The girls line up on two sides. Most of you think like flowrgrrl (but aren't as bold about wanting to take my place):
flowrgrrl: You're really going to do it. You dork. How long should I wait before I ask you for his phone number?
dear flowrgrrl et al, Yep. I'm going to do it. And yep. I am a dork. Unfortunately, the Dork Code prevents me from giving out numbers. Sorry.
A couple of you see things a little different:
princessbluesky: *sigh* I wish all the boys in the world were Bradys. Then we could fall in love a hundred times until we *were* 55 and there would always be another Brady around the corner. I think you're doing the right thing, Summer. The crazy thing, but the right thing. *sigh*
dear princessbluesky, Sigh back at ya. And thanks.
Most of the boys seem to have an attitude problem. A sample:
SK84U: bitch
dear SK8, C'mon, tell me what you REALLY think.
Then there's:
murderator: Now that you're about to be single, I repeat: You + Me + My Back-seat.
dear murd, And now that I am about to be single, I repeat: thanks but no thanks (Neanderthal).
I think I will go to the Windmill festival and eat elephant ears until I puke.
I asked Brady to meet me at the gazebo. He got there ahead of me. I started to wave when I spotted him, but he was talking to someone. A girl. Her back was turned to me and she hurried away before I got close, but from the color of her shirt (purple) and her hair (strawberry blonde), I'd guess it was Kiersten. If I wasn't about to break up with that boy, I would have sworn that he and she ... but I digress.
We walked together for a while before we started talking. Twice, I almost forgot what I was there for and reached for his hand. Three times, I almost gave up the whole idea of giving up on us. I mean, really, when I thought about it, I knew what I was about to do was insane. Brady was a great guy, one that any normal girl would be happy to call hers. But when we passed by the windmills, I remembered that I am not any normal girl, that love isn't exactly rational and that, sometimes, crazy is the right thing to be.
We'd almost run out of fairground to walk through when I stopped, took a deep breath and said, "There's something we need to talk about."
He took another couple of steps before he stopped too. He turned to me, then looked at the ground. "So, I guess the rumors are true," he said.
In the end, we agreed to a trial separation. Until the start of school we would both be free to see other people, or to just hang out with our friends. We were not required to check in with each other but we would probably still get together at least once a week, just to see how it was going. He said, and I agreed, "We've talked to each other almost every day for months. It's stupid to think we can just shut it off."
Then he asked if I had anyone in mind that I wanted to date. I stuttered and told him, "N-n-not ... really". Sheesh.
"Ha," he said. "Are you sure Dave isn't waiting around the corner to walk you home?"
"D-dave is great," I told him. "He's f-fun to be around." Brady rolled his eyes again before I confessed, "It wouldn't be the most awful thing in the world to go on a date or two with him."
He snorted then and said, "Right. Whatever." It was the only time he came close to acting angry. It might have been easier if he'd been mean.
5:55 PM So much for wishing
sergio: So. It's done?
summer: it.is.
sergio: Great! I'll see you in a half hour.
summer: Huh?
sergio: I have to let Daisy out first and stuff, and I can't stay long. My parents come home tonight.
summer: Not huh? HUH?!? I'm pretty sure it doesn't work that way.
sergio: My turn -- > huh?
summer: The dating thing. I can't just break up with Brady + start seeing you immediately.
sergio: Sure you can.
summer: no. i can't. I've been thinking things over. In less than a week Madison and I go on vacation together. There's Windmill Days ... and Craig comes home soon. That's plenty to keep us busy. I think we should wait until I get back from the beach to officially start dating.
sergio: You're not serious?
summer: I am super double triple serious. It's not like we're going to stop liking each other or anything. Are we?
sergio: I don't know ... Lily looked pretty good the other night.
summer: Ch-yeah.
sergio: And there's always Madison ...
summer: Dear Dave Brown, I may have broken up with an almost perfect boyfriend because of you – but that doesn't mean I can't still Hate you.
sergio: OK, I'll quit. See you tomorrow.
summer: Tomorrow?
sergio: Windmill Fest. Duh.
summer: But Dave ...
sergio: *la la la* I can't hear you.
I was dead serious about the not dating thing. Like dad says: Time heals all wounds. If I got lucky maybe it would prevent a few new ones.
<3