After giving them my statement, we drive down the hill to the emergency room, where they set my arm. Turns out my wrist is broken in two places. Damn Brent. But he’s gonna get his. I hope he has to share his jail cell with some big, scary-looking, lonely inmate.
“So this Sean who called us,” my dad says on the way home. “Is he the boy from downtown?”
“Yes,” I say, nursing my arm. The cast is already itchy. “He’s the crackhead you grounded me over seeing.”
“Can I assume we’re being sarcastic with the term crackhead?”
“Uh, yeah, great that you noted it.”
Dad glances in the rearview mirror, his eyes meeting mine. “How come you’ve never introduced us?”
I bow my head. “Because I was afraid you would forbid me to see him.”
“That’s what concerned me to begin with. Why would you think that? What’s so bad about him that you would think we wouldn’t want you dating him?”
“Nothing. Just …” I shrug. “He’s poor. Real poor.”
“So?”
I look up. “So you want me to date someone with a lot of money. Someone like Brent.”
“I want you to date someone you like,” Dad says. “Someone who will be nice to you and treat you with the respect you deserve. Someone who will worship the ground you walk on and realize what a gem you are.” He pulls up to a stoplight and turns around to face me. “There are no minimum income requirements on your dates, Dawn. And there never were.”
“Really?” I burst out into happy tears. “So I can start dating Sean again?”
The light turns green and my dad steps on the gas. “Well, you’re not officially supposed to start dating ‘til you’re sixteen, but that’s only a few weeks away.” He glances over at Mom, who smiles back at him. “I guess we could make an exception. But we want to meet him first, of course.”
I nod excitedly, my wildest dreams coming true. I can’t believe it. I really can’t believe it. “Okay. When do you want to meet him?”
“How about tomorrow?” Mom asks. “We could have dinner.”
“Aghh!” I give an excited squeal. “Really? Tomorrow? I can see Sean tomorrow?”
I feel like I should be singing the Orphan Annie song.
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, I’ll see Sean, tomorrow. He’s only a day away!
This is so great. I’m sure once they meet Sean, give him a real chance, they’re going to love him.
Love him like I already do.
Chapter Twenty
I’m nervous and pacing up and down my room as I wait for six P.M. I’ve changed my clothes three times already and that’s no easy feat with a broken wrist. I want to look perfect. I want this night to be perfect. I want my parents (I’ve retired the name The Evil Ones, btw) to think Sean’s perfect. Or at least, perfect for me.
The doorbell rings and I nearly jump out of my skin.
I rush downstairs, but I’m not fast enough to beat Mom and Dad to the door. I notice they too have dressed nicely for dinner. Dad in a black professor turtleneck and my mom a brightly colored Pucci dress.
I stand on the landing, holding my breath as they open the door. I’m suddenly worried for some reason that Sean will show up in his grungy skater clothes. Then I scold myself. Who cares what he wears? My parents need to accept him for who he is, not how he dresses. Isn’t that, like, the whole Lesson with a capital “L” they’ve supposedly learned from all this?
Still, all that said, I have to admit I’m more than a little relieved when the open door reveals Sean in a navy blue suit and tie. It’s a little too big for him around the shoulders, like it belonged to someone else at one point, but he looks yummy in it all the same. His hair is gelled back and he’s freshly shaven. Delish! I want to jump his bones and kiss him senseless, but I restrain myself. It’s probably not the move that would get him on the immediate good side of the ‘rents.
“Hi, I’m Richard, and this is my wife, Sarah,” my dad introduces, holding out a hand. “And,” he adds with a grin, “I think you already know my daughter Dawn.”
Sean smiles at my father and shakes his hand. A firm handshake, like my dad appreciates, not one of those limp fish ones. I can see my dad’s approval. Score one for Sean, I mentally cheer.
“It’s nice to meet you, sir,” he says with a smile. (Sir? Okay, make that score two!) “And you too, Mrs. Miller,” he adds, turning to my mom.
“Call me Sarah,” Mom says.
Wow. She’s letting him call her Sarah, that’s huge! After all, Mom was a schoolteacher, so she’s big on the whole Mrs. thing. She must like him already. I guess the whole saving me from the clutches of the evil Brent Baker the Third made a good first impression. But still, how cool is that?
I don’t know what I was worried about. Sean’s not a diamond in the rough at all. In fact, he’d be the most polished and gleaming gem in any jeweler’s case. If we were at the country club, no one would give him a second glance.
This rocks!
“Hi, Sean,” I say, descending the stairs.
“Dawn!” he greets me, his eyes shining, not hiding his adoration for me. I wonder if my parents notice the radiating love vibes between us. “I’ve missed you.” He leans in and gives me a very respectable parents-are-in-the-room kiss on the cheek. Even the simple gesture sends those tingles to my toes. I can’t wait ‘til I get him alone so we can share a real kiss!
“Shall we eat?” Mom asks with a half-hidden smile to Dad.
We retire to the dining room. At first I’m a bit worried Sean might be weirded out by all the obnoxiously fancy furniture and rare artwork. But if he is, he hides it well. In fact, he waltzes through the house as if he were a prince, born to luxury.
Dad, Sean, and I take our seats at the table and my mother hustles around to get dinner served. She told me earlier she gave Magda the night off. I’m not sure if that was a random act of kindness or because she didn’t want Sean to be freaked out by his neighbor serving him dinner, but hey, whatever works. It’s also highly amusing to see Mom try to play waitress/cook. She drops at least three things on the floor and the mashed potatoes are beyond lumpy. But it’s cool. At least she’s making the effort.
Finally, when we’re all served and Mom’s seated, my dad starts in with his traditional game of Twenty Questions. Though this time, his interrogation is directed at Sean, not me. At least he doesn’t have the guy hooked up to a lie detector machine like poor Ben Stiller in Meet the Parents.
“So, Sean, tell us about yourself,” he says, starting out with an easy one.
Sean swallows his bite of food before speaking. Good one. Mom hates the talking-with-your-mouth-full thing I always do.
“Well, I’m seventeen years old. I’m a senior at Woodbury,” he begins.
Now that I’m closer to him, I can see he is a little nervous. I guess, who wouldn’t be? I mean, my dad is pretty darn intimidating. Sean’s hiding it well, though.
“Where are you going to college next year?” my dad asks.
My heart sinks. So much for warm-up questions. I remember all too well Sean saying he probably can’t afford to go to college. And it was a pretty sore subject, too, if I remember right. But if he says he’s not going to college, my dad’s going to freak out and think Sean’s some loser with no future. ‘Cause as we all know, my dad’s biggest hang-up is the college thing.
“You know, college isn’t really for everyone—” I start to say, ready to jump in and save Sean in any way possible.
“Harvard,” Sean says.
“—I mean, look at Bill Gates. He’s a college drop …” I trail off, turning to look at Sean, open-mouthed.
Did he just say Harvard? He didn’t just say Harvard! Did he?
I glance over at my dad, whose eyes are currently sparkling brighter than any Christmas lights. I guess I must have heard right. But how can Sean be going to Harvard? Is he lying just to impress my dad? I hope not, ‘cause that would be so easy for him to check up on and I know my dad well enough to know
he will have a ton of follow-up questions to this news of the century.
“Really?” My dad asks, not disappointing. “You know, I went to Harvard.”
“Yes, Dawn mentioned that,” Sean says, smiling at me. He doesn’t look like he’s lying. But, how ...? I’m so confused.
“What are you studying there?”
“Computer science, most likely.”
My dad is beaming at him like he’s found his long-lost son. “Well, they’ve got a great program there. Actually, all their programs are great. I keep trying to tell Dawn that.” He motions his head to me with a conspiratorial look toward Sean. “But she doesn’t want to go.”
Sean shrugs. “Well it’s not for everyone, for sure. But it’s always been my number-one choice.”
“Well, if you end up pledging a fraternity …”
My dad spends pretty much the rest of the meal discussing Harvard with Sean. I glance over at Mom, who winks at me. She knows this couldn’t be going better if we’d planned it.
But Sean going to Harvard? I’m so confused.
*
After dinner, my dad suggests Sean and I go for a walk. Which of course I’m delighted to do, to get some alone time with him. And I’ve got a billion questions buzzing in my brain that I’m dying to ask him.
We step outside into the crisp night air and walk down the driveway to the street. Once we’re out of possible parental view, Sean pulls me behind a tree and kisses me.
Ah, how I’ve missed this. His hot lips on mine, his peppermint breath. I relax into the kiss, feeling more alive and happy than I have in weeks. God, I love him.
But wait, I have questions!
I pull away. “So what’s the deal with all that Harvard stuff?” I ask. “You never said you were going to Harvard. Did you make that up to get my dad to like you?”
He laughs and kisses me again. “Of course not, silly,” he says. “Why would I do that? You really have a bad opinion of me, don’t you?”
“No,” I say defensively, “but you never told me you were going to Harvard.”
“You’ve been grounded a long time, girl,” he reminds me. “I got my acceptance letter a week ago. I’ve been dying to tell you, actually.”
“Wow!” I cry, throwing my arms around him in a celebratory hug. “That’s so awesome.”
“Yeah. I was completely stoked.” He hugs me back, then leans against the tree’s trunk, staring at the ground. “Of course, I didn’t want to say this in front of your dad, but I’m still not positive I can go.”
“Oh?” My heart sinks a little. I knew it was too good to be true.
“Yeah. ‘Cause of the money, you know. I mean, I was lucky—they were real generous in the financial-aid package. But I’ve still gotta come up with cash for books and stuff. Those technology books can cost over a hundred bucks each.”
“Ugh.”
“Yeah.” He nods. “Ugh.”
“You don’t look too worried, though.”
He shrugs. “Well, remember that skating competition I told you about?”
“Yeah.” It seems a lifetime ago that we sat in the chill-out room at the rave, discussing our dreams. The first night we kissed. So much has happened since.
“Well, it’s next week. And if I can win that, the scholarship money they’re giving away will more than cover my books. Actually, it’d probably get me my own laptop as well.”
“Oh cool!” I exclaim, hope regained. “You’ll totally win. I know you will.”
He grins. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. I’m not quite as sure as you are, but hey, I’m going to give it my best shot, right?”
“And I’ll be there to cheer you on!”
He smiles and leans in to kiss me softly on the mouth. I swear, even if we end up old and gray and in matching rocking chairs on our front porch, I’ll never lose that tingly feeling his kisses evoke.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Epilogue
“Ooh, the program says Sean’s up next after this guy,” I note, looking up from the leaflet and scanning the top of the half-pipe for some sign of my boyfriend. Don’t see him yet.
“About freaking time!” Starr exclaims, shifting in her uncomfortable bleacher seat. “We’ve been here like hours. Who knew there were so many skaters in Massachusetts?”
Eddie laughs. “And these are just the ones good enough to qualify for regionals. Doesn’t even count poor slobs like me.”
“Aww, is baby feeling left out?” Starr coos, putting an arm around Eddie and kissing him on the cheek. Since Starr’s gotten off groundation, she and her mohawked boyfriend have been completely inseparable.
“Nah, I know the Seanster will do well to represent our ‘hood.” Eddie says, making funny fake gangsta hand signals. We crack up.
Starr cups her mouth with her hands. “Fall, you loser!” she cries to the guy currently up on the pipe. “You suck!”
I elbow her in the ribs, laughing. “That’s not very nice!”
“Hey, we need Sean to have every advantage possible,” she says, defending her other-skater sabotage. She cups her mouth again. “Why don’t you take up basket-weaving, you loser?”
It’s a beautiful Sunday, and Starr, Eddie, and I are all hanging out in the grandstands of Woodbury High stadium, which has been transformed into a skate park for the day. The sun warms the top of my head and I’ve never felt so happy. In fact, I feel like I’ve won the life lottery.
When Sean left that night after dinner with my parents, they were immediately all over me, telling me how much they loved him. How impressed they were by him. How I couldn’t have picked a better guy to be my first boyfriend. Sooo cool.
And then we had a long talk. They asked me what I wanted to do with my life and actually—get this!— listened to my answer. I told them I couldn’t deal with the overscheduling and extra-extracurricular activities and they said I could plan my own schedule from now on, as long as I continued to do well in school.
So I’ve ditched Japanese, crew, and yearbook. And kept on ballet and gymnastics. (Don’t want to turn into a slug, after all!) And I joined the school paper so I could become a better writer.
Speaking of which! My poem got selected for Faces. No, not just selected—I won first place! Next month I’ll be the featured selection for the literary journal. I even get mentioned on the cover! And because of my parents’ change of heart, I don’t even have to use a pen name. My real name, Dawn Ashley Miller, will appear next to my poem for everyone to see.
Okay, so it’s only a regional literary magazine, not an international best seller, but it’s still extremely satisfying. And besides, today Faces, tomorrow the world, right?
My dad even went so far as to say he’s proud of me. In fact, he promised to stop calling my poems “little limericks” from now on and that he’d take my writing dreams seriously. Sure, he’s still not keen on the whole poetry-as-a-career-choice thing, but he said if I were to major in English, at least I’d have something like teaching to fall back on.
So all in all, life is good for Dawn. Very good.
Sure, not everything’s perfect. I’m still a bit of a social reject at school. But I don’t care. I have my friends. Sean, Eddie, Starr. Sophie and Stuart. Friends who really care about me for who I am and not where I shop. Who will stand by me and encourage me to follow my dreams and support me in whatever I do.
Brent Baker the Third’s dad used all his family connections to get the kid out of jail time. But he couldn’t get him off many, many hours of community service. We like to go downtown some Saturdays and watch Abercrombie Boy pick garbage off the sidewalks. I’m sure it’ll look great on his college application.
“There he is!” Starr squeaks, pointing up to the left half of the ramp. I follow her hand to see Sean, standing at the top, looking tall and sexy in his baggy skater clothes. My heart flutters with love and anticipation. I think I’m more nervous than he is! I want him to win so badly. ‘Cause it’s his dream. And I, for one, know
how important dreams are.
“Look how cute that guy is,” I hear a girl say to my right. I glance over. An eighth-grade Barbie with braids in her hair is pointing at Sean.
“Mmm. He’s a wicked good skater, too,” her friend says. “I saw him in the qualifying round.”
“With that bod, I wouldn’t care if he totally sucked,” Barbie says with a giggle. “I’d be his skater girl any day.”
I smile, feeling old and wise and oh-so cool. “Sorry, that position’s taken,” I say.
“Is he your boyfriend? He’s so awesome!” the girl says, looking at me like I’m some movie star.
“Yes, he is,” I agree, watching as Sean drops from the top of the ramp into a crouched position and traverses to the other side of the pipe. As he starts up the ramp, he straightens his legs and then takes flight, twisting his body and board in the air—and then hitting the ramp perfectly on the way back down. Then he skates up the other side to do it all over again.
My heart stops for a moment each time he goes for a trick. Each time praying he doesn’t fall. Lose the competition that means so much to him. Or worse, get hurt.
But he’s too good. He aces every trick—even the complicated ones—and when his time is up, he hops back onto the top of the pipe and raises his skateboard above his head in victory. He knows he’s nailed it.
The crowd goes absolutely wild. Barbie and her friend leap up and cheer. Eddie and Starr hug each other in glee.
“Woot! Go, Sean!” I yell as loud as I can, my voice practically giving out after all my whooping. “I love you!”
He seems to hear me, even over the roar of the crowd, and flashes me a triumphant grin.
He doesn’t have to wait for the judges to announce his scores. He knows he’s won. He knows that at this moment, all his dreams have come true.
And so have mine.
About the Author
Mari Mancusi used to wish she could become a vampire back in high school. But she ended up in another blood sucking profession—journalism—instead. Today she works as a freelance TV producer and author of books for teens and adults. When not writing, Mari enjoys traveling, cooking, goth clubbing, watching cheesy horror movies, and her favorite guilty pleasure—videogames. A graduate of Boston University and a two time Emmy Award winner, she lives in Austin, Texas with her husband Jacob, daughter Avalon, and their dog Mesquite.