Tuesday, March 01, 2005

The more things change...

The bathroom stall's door hangs on unsteady hinges and the lock when it's locked can shift out of place, exposing you with your black marker or tissues below or a sex book or rolling the pad into too-small square bits of thin paper, your face frozen in a silent, choked gasp. Then you and me, we burst into laughter because this is midddle school and we're so young and secretive and scared and excited and our hair is looking so, so fine today. You slam the door shut and finally scream, finishing your business. I start to do mine.

You come out and spruce in the fogged mirror lined with cracks that haven't yet met the surface of the glass, twisting your mouth and squinting your eyes in judgement as you wonder about the lipstick you should have snagged from your mom's purse before she grabbed it away and hurried you into the truck to get to school on time. You scratch your calf, a mosquito bite, and lick your lips.

"I saw him today," I say as I paint the words on the metal wall next to me.

"You didn't!"

"M-hm...by the gym."

You giggle and tap your foot. I finish my job and step outside, waving my hand to you to show my handiwork in black, with stars and hearts in red. You scream and pull me by my sleeve and we're back out in the sun just as the bell rings and then we disappear into the crowd that enveloped us like a wave of water at the beach. We're off to English, fourth period. I furrow my brows and worry and look at my Van's and think, think, god, think with everything I have inside my whole self, should I have the pizza or the nachos after?


I love J. S. he's a hottie.

Found on the girls' bathroom wall...an ode to my sixth grade son apparently, told to me this morning by my husband who teaches in the same school where our son attends...my husband who heard it from the mouth of a female student of his who couldn't wait to tell him.


rick said...

ah... don't you love it? well, maybe you don't... after all, momma's boy is growing up.

vans... remember those checkerboard ones?

dayna said...

Very well written. I could almost smell that grade school bathroom scent.

Adriana Bliss said...

Rick, I have mixed emotions. On the one hand, I hope the graffitti might work as a hidden kernel of confidence...on the other hand, I want to chase down the sangron who's taking my baby's name in vane and smack her.

Dayna...if I'd been a different writer, I'd have laid out those scents in living, breathing color! And thank you. ;)

easywriter said...

Extraordinary. I loved this and as I read it was instantly transported to days gone past me now.


narrator said...

perfectly capturing an age and a moment, and wo, isn't it weird when they get to this age...

Adriana Bliss said...

Easywriter and narrator - this very beginning period in J's life has taken me off guard. He's very young - the peer pressure in the public schools to grow up is powerful. I can only hope we're able to guide him through these tricky waters. Thank you both for popping in here.