Write On Press Presents: The Ultimate Collection of Original Short Fiction, Volume II
Page 26
JESSE’S LIST
Moria Stanton
June 1986
Jesse was ready to crawl out of her skin. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Tonight was the beginning of her short, very carefully planned rebellion.
For her entire life she had done all that was asked of her. She studied hard, won medal after medal in sports, and fit in a boatload of extracurricular activities. She never lied, never hung around with the bad crowd, and always, always, followed the rules—all the rules, all the time.
And graduating from high school with honors, with two years of college credits under her belt, was definitely something to be proud of. For God’s sake, she deserved to go a little nuts...just a little. It’s not like she wanted to ruin her life. She wanted to become a doctor.
But just once, just this once, she longed to toss the rules aside, rip up the map, and drive blind...to feel free and alive. Okay, not just once. She wanted three months of it. Three glorious, sun drenched months with no responsibilities. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but she’d know it when she saw it.
She had a bucket list. A short one, but still...she was going to do the whole list this summer. Go to a nightclub; slow dance with a boy; kiss that boy; ride a motorcycle; go cliff diving; and maybe, just maybe get a tattoo. Check, check, and double check.
Oh, and have a drink. A real drink. Not the fancy wine her parents were always asking her to taste. She wanted to feel the burn in her throat that Hemingway talked about. She was going to get dirty and crazy.
She had just realized her life up to this point had been spent in a cocoon—a rich, privileged cocoon, but still a cocoon. She really hadn’t ever thought about it until two things happened. First, she graduated from high school, which in itself was mind blowing. No more Brighton High, no more cheerleading practices, no more anything that she had been doing for the last four years. Gone.
Her entire future lay before her like a blank slate. So she began to think of a bucket list. Initially it was filled with goals, standards of excellence, being the best, blah, blah, blah. Until the movie.
The movie that blew her mind; it had ripped reality out from under her. The Breakfast Club sounded innocent enough, but as she sat and watched it, her mind shifted its perspective. Suddenly all she thought she knew was turned on its head.
It was unbelievable really, how similar the high school stereotypes in that movie matched the ones in her school. When the jock, the gothic-tortured girl, the science geek, the rebel, and the perfect princess type had appeared on screen, she had no trouble matching them to people in her school. Yeah, and she was so close to the perfect princess she wanted to crawl under the theatre seat.
But the thing that changed her, really changed her, was how much she liked all of the other types. Really liked them. As in wishing she had friends like them.
She spent a long time thinking about that. And analyzing why the only people she knew fell into two categories—jocks and perfect princesses. Bam! It had hit her; she had never questioned a single thing in her life. That was going to change, starting tonight.
But then her father stuck his head in her room and seeing her in jeans and a t-shirt, frowned.
“Eh, Jesse, don’t you think you should be getting ready for the auction tonight?” He was dressed in what her mother described as his “power suit” and he looked every bit the senator he was.
“Auction? Oh crap...I mean, oh no!” She had to stifle the whine in her voice as she saw her first night of freedom go up in a puff of smoke. “Do I have to go?” She knew as the words left her lips how her father would react. And sure enough, the gentle reproving look came on his face. A look that was far more effective than any anger.
“Well Jesse, I think you have to ask yourself if what you planned on doing tonight is more important than helping feed the poor.” He gave her the curt nod that he always used when he wanted to convey his displeasure. “Let me know your decision.” He turned and left the room knowing she would go.
Yes, she thought. Yes it’s more important. I’m tired of doing what’s expected of me, every single day of my life. Of course I don’t want people to starve, but how is me dressing up and going with you to this charity auction on this night going to make a difference?
Double crap. She couldn’t get out of it. She’d have to call Cheryl and Eileen and let them know that she was a no go. The wonderful night of dancing and club hopping evaporated with her good mood. She shoved her self-pity away as she reminded herself that in three days her parents were heading off to a two week cruise and then she would begin to work on her bucket list.
She scowled into the mirror as she put her makeup on. Maybe, with a little luck, she could scratch the having a drink off of her list. Doubtful. The fact she was only seventeen was no secret at Brighton Hills Country Club.
“Ready?” Her mother looked beautiful with a French twist in her dark hair and wearing an elegant designer suit.
Jesse looked at herself one more time. The dress she had chosen was pale cream chiffon with straps that flared wider at her shoulders, setting off the tan she had been hard at work on the last couple of weeks. It hit barely an inch above her knees had a skirt that floated when she moved. She wore her dark hair down with simple jewelry—a string of pearls with little pearl earrings. Her one nod to the rebellion brewing in her blood was some styling shoes that were metallic zebra print and had thick, stacked heels. She saw her father’s eyes widen when he took them in, but he didn’t comment on them. “I’m ready.” She said and comforted herself with the thought, tomorrow then. Tomorrow it begins.