Page 3 of Something Rad
“We’re moving it. Sorry about that, Larry,” Alice says.
“That’sMr. Larryto you, Alice Quinn,” the old grumpy man we’ve had as our bus driver nearly our entire lives tells her.
“I know, I know. Sorry about that, Larry,” Alice says, patting my shoulders and scooting us fully out of the bus and into the parking lot in front of the school.
I groan, looking down at the contents of my backpack scattered at our feet, including two of my most prized possessions: my journal and my red lipstick.
“Can you hold this for a second?” I ask Alice, handing her today’s copy of the newspaper from under my arm and bending down to gather my things. School day or not, I’ve read the newspaper every day for as long as I can remember. Something I picked up from my dad, apparently.
“God, he’s so hot,” Alice whines.
I glance up at her, squinting from the sun. “Who?”
“Ronald.”
“Ronald who?” I ask, scooping the last of my casualties into the front pocket of my backpack and zipping it closed.
Alice lets out a dreamy sigh. “Reagan.”
I choke out a laugh. “On a first name basis with our president, are you?” I ask, snatching the newspaper from her hands, seeing the man himself plastered across the front cover.
“I could be,” she says. “Once you make it big in Hollywood, you could introduce us. He was an actor, you know.”
“I’m aware,” I chuckle. “Pretty sure he’ll be way out of his prime before I get anywhere near Hollywood, but I’ll keep it in mind. What would Daniel say though?”
“Hey, Daniel knows he has my whole heart,” Alice says. “He can share my eyes. Just a little bit.”
I laugh, shaking my head.
Daniel is the boyfriend that Alice acquired approximately one week after getting her braces off over the summer. Though Alice was always confident, something about getting those braces off really unleashed her.
“Thank you for ditching him to be lame and ride the bus with me today by the way,” I say, nudging her.
“Don’t even mention it!” Alice nudges me back. “We’ve always ridden the bus together on the first day. No way was I going to let that tradition die in our senior year. Daniel can bring me to school any other day.”
I open my mouth to thank her again but am quickly cut off by the sound of tires squealing and the growing volume of Bon Jovi’sYou Give Love A Bad Name.
Alice and I both turn at the same time to see a bright red 1985 Camaro tearing through the parking lot. The music only gets louder as the car comes to a stop in a space right in the front row, left open as if it was reserved for it.
Forhim.
I find myself rolling my eyes before I’m even consciously aware of my decision to do so.
“Speaking of hot guys…” Alice murmurs.
The driver’s side door of the Camaro is pushed open and out he steps.
White Converse All-Stars come into view, then Levi’s 501s. I already know it’s him, but his signature gray Members Only jacket and Ray Ban sunglasses confirm it before his hand running through his sleek brown gravity-defying hair delivers the killing blow to half the girls in the parking lot.
Robbie Summers.
Most popular guy in school. Star of the basketball team. Boy of every girl’s dreams and every somewhat average looking boy’s nightmares. Son of Darren and Donna Summers, Bay View High School legends and current owners and operators of our only local eye doctor’s office, Summers Optometry.
He’s a walking cliché.
There’s been a Robbie Summers in every movie of our decade, but, in this story, the arrogant popular jerk always wins in the end.
Alice whistles. “Somehow I manage to forget every summer that Robbie Summers sure knows how to wear a pair of jeans.”
