Feeling terrible and not having any care left, other than to get home and climb in bed as soon as my mom came, I mustered up the courage to say “it’s probably not that bad”.
Surprised, CeCe turned towards me with a half smile half worried look.
“It’s probably not as bad as you think,” I said. “Mr. Bartlemy has a bad reputation for blowing up too easily, at least that’s what I’ve heard my mother say. So, I’m sure the principle is taking that into consideration,” I said with my head still pointed towards the trashcan, in an attempt to help her feel better or at least less anxious, as her toe-tapping was starting to bring up extra belches from all the vibrations on the bench.
A bit guarded, which I had always thought to be snobbery, CeCe cautiously smiled, this time with both sides of her mouth, “I don’t think we’ve ever talked, I’m CeCe.”
“I know. We’ve gone to the same church since we were little.”
“My mother’s going to set my butt on fire if she has to come down here again to pick me up,” CeCe explained nervously. “She probably won’t come, she’ll probably make Ms. Winnie come and get me, knowing her.”
“Who’s Ms. Winnie?”
“Oh, that’s my nanny, but I like to call her mom sometimes—in front of my mother just to see how fast I can make my mother’s head whip around.”
Trying not to laugh up puke, I giggled, which also caused CeCe to laugh and forget about the trouble she was in momentarily.
“My mother is too important for me so Ms. Winnie has always been there, for everything. My mom is a lawyer and is always working, always telling me ‘just a minute, just a minute’ which actually turns into an hour later and then she only has a minute and rushes me with whatever I’m trying to tell her.”
“Sometimes moms just get busy. I’m sure she cares and that’s probably why she wants to light your butt on fire when you get in trouble.”
A bit puzzled, CeCe shook her head, “well, maybe.”
Just then my mom was arriving to finally take me home. As I got off the bench to leave, CeCe tapped me on the back. “Do you want to sit by me at lunch tomorrow?”
“That would be nice, if I’m not puking.” I said smiling while trying to choke back the vomit resting in my throat.
And that’s how I first met CeCe, the softer side of CeCe that most people don’t know. Not sure how I got off topic but back in Mrs. Newwater’s fifth grade class, CeCe was already cooking up plans for Eric Sothersby. I could tell by the look on her face when the bell rang for second period she had an agenda. As we scooted out of our seats and into the hallway for our next class, down the hall, I could see CeCe smiling and escorting Eric to what looked like the janitor’s closet door.
I knew what that meant…back to confessional.
Chapter 2: Goodbye High School
With the final bell ringing for the day, signifying the end of our high school years as we knew them, I caught CeCe discretely exiting the janitor’s closet, with some jock departing in the opposite direction. Some things never change.
“Char, wait up,” CeCe called after spotting me in the hallway.
“Who was that Ce?” I whispered while she was still making her way through the crowded hallway.
“Oh, that was my lab partner from last hour; I was just showing him around the supply closet.” She said in a giddy voice before going on “Char, we are graduating tonight!”
“I know I can hardly believe we are actually done with high school!”
“So do you want me to pick you up for graduation or is Jersey coming by for you?” CeCe asked curiously. And before I could answer, she continued, “Either way I don’t care, but you are definitely leaving with me for my graduation party. I need your help greeting people so I don’t have to stand next to my mom, all night, while she is critiquing my outfit and giving me pointers on what to say to all of her associates she invited to my graduation party.”
“Well, I think Jersey,” I started to say when someone snuck up behind me and grabbed my waist, making me yell loudly, turning heads all around me.
“I think Jersey is what-the most awesome guy in Georgia?” Jersey, said in a confident, semi-charming and conceded way.
“Jersey, I told you to stop grabbing me like that.” I said in a stern voice, while slapping his hands away from my waist.
“I know, but I think you really like it,” he smiled at me.
Rolling her eyes, CeCe interrupted, “hi Jersey, we were just talking about graduation tonight. I already told CeCe that she is leaving graduation with me to help at my party but I don’t care if she rides with you to graduation.”
CeCe didn’t really care for Jersey. She thought he was a jerk and that I was too nice and too good for a guy like him. Jack Delano, nicknamed Jersey for New Jersey, where he lived before moving to St. Marys to live with his uncle, was the quarter back for our football team as well as my boyfriend of two years. He moved here after he got kicked out of his third private school for being a bit of a troublemaker. You think they’d really like each other because they had so much in common; both were known for having a mouth on them that ran faster than their brain- tact connection. CeCe was forever telling me that he was no good for me but I, out of naivety looking back now, have always tried to see the good in people and believed that somewhere behind that mouth of his was a good heart. Although I never found it, he, when he was not pressuring me to make a home run, was devilishly cute, funny, and very persuasive when he wanted something…like talking me into being his girlfriend despite my gut telling me no and my brain saying run. But out of boredom or a lack of better options, I gave in and have been Jersey’s girlfriend since Homecoming in tenth grade. I still remember our first date when he came to pick me up. Oh yeah, it’s not hard to forget when your dad is polishing his shotgun on the front porch. Not to mention his ammo laid out all over the place while he’s decked out in camouflage from head to toe to greet your date for the first time. It was most likely this first impression my father had on him that caused him to have a bit of fear and an eager challenge when it came to dating me. I, mostly mild mannered and from a very conservative family, was drawn to guys like Jersey for the wild, provoking energy they possessed. Although I love my dad and he’s always been good to our mom and to us—he is not the type of guy I would be drawn to. He’s usually serious, very analytical and works 14 hours a day six days a week. He’s incredibly frugal, which makes for a great business owner of one of the hardest industries out there…farming—but not an image of romance by far. Not that I knew what romance was at 18 years of age other than the girly movies that always depicted the good girl ending up with a good guy possessing all the intrigue of a bad-guy. Jersey was definitely not a romantic. He was the all-American jock kind-of-guy. His idea of romance was taking me to see a Rambo-flick and paying for the popcorn and drinks, followed by sugary-sweet persuasion to make out in his 1989 Camaro afterwards. My mom was forever and a day telling me that if I found a guy who loved Jesus with all his heart, he would love me like the princess I am. Unfortunately, St. Marys didn’t seem to have any interesting Jesus-loving boys around so Jersey was it for now. Not sure how long it would last as Jersey was going away to Montclair State University in New Jersey on a full-ride football scholarship and myself to the University of Georgia for journalism in the fall, I was just buying time for the right guy to walk into my life.
Looking at Jersey, I replied back. “Yeah Ce, I will go with you after graduation. Jersey, can you pick me up at a quarter to six?”
“Char you don’t need to be that early for graduation, it doesn’t start until six thirty in the evening.” Jersey noted.
“That’s because she’s the Valedictorian and has to give a speech, remember.” CeCe said in a barely tolerant voice.
“Oh. Well you can go with CeCe if you want. Some of the guys and I are getting a head start to the graduation parties. We are meeting on the 50-yard line at five.”
“Jersey you better be careful. Besides you have
to walk me down to my chair.” I said, sounding like my mother.
“Cool down Char. I’ll be fine and I’ll be there to walk you to your chair.” Jersey said in an annoyed voice.
“Alright, we have to get going CeCe. Richie is picking me up. I will see you later Jersey—do not be late!” I said as I quickly kissed Jersey goodbye on the cheek.
Yelling down the hall as we were scurrying to meet Richie, I heard Jersey laugh and shout, “Char, my grandma gives better kisses than that,” while standing with his football buddies.
“CeCe keep walking,” I started to say as I knew she, at any minute, was waiting for an opportunity to put him in his place. And of course, less than a second later CeCe flipped around and laughingly replied “Jersey, you really need to stop making out with your grandma,” before she turned back around to push the doors wide open to our future.
“Good God CeCe!”
“I know that was pretty funny, wasn’t it,” she said still laughing at her cleverness, as we skipped down the steps outside.
“Hey, there’s Richie. I’ve gotta go but you’ll pick me up at 5:30 PM, right?”
“Of course.”
Chapter 3: Oh, The Places You’ll Go
“It’s five thirty; where is she?” I asked as I peeked out the window.
“Char, it’s CeCe, she’s always late.” Richie, the youngest of my four brothers called back, while glancing at himself in the entryway mirror.
Richie, the most entertaining Buchanan, other than my grandma Rose, my dad’s mom, is also my closest brother. Out of the five of us siblings, identical twins Edward and Peter are the oldest, Jason is the next oldest and Richie is only one year older than me. I am the youngest and only girl of the bunch. Edward and Peter, the serious, most-like-my-dad of the boys, both started working on the farm right after high school and are six years older than me. Instead of being opposites, like most identical twins I’ve heard about, I think they both share one brain because they always seem to be able to tell what the other one’s thinking—like finishing each other’s sentences and falling for the same girls. Jason, the most sophisticated and college-educated of the bunch, has lots of ideas to help modernize the farm to make it more efficient and profitable. Even though it appears that my dad is listening when Jason presents his new ideas, my dad’s way of harvesting peaches never really changed. I knew Jason would find a way and be very successful one day. Richie, who inherited my Grandma Rose’s sense of humor and our dad’s namesake, is not like any of my other brothers. A rugged good looking-farm boy and always popular with the girls, he never really fit the profile of a farmer’s son. After graduation he stayed at home and attended community college, auditioning for all the local theatre productions in the area while working towards a marketing degree. He enjoys making people laugh as if it’s the fuel he runs on. I can count on him to listen without judgment, when I need to talk, a rare and beautiful gift.
“Finally, I see her coming down the driveway. Richie, when mom gets out of the shower, tell her that I am saving her eight seats in the front row. Thanks, I love you. I’ll see you at graduation later,” I said quickly as I dashed out of the house.
In just a few moments we arrived at the gymnasium, home of the Wildcats, for the last time as seniors. I had been thinking about this day for many years. I couldn’t wait to get away from this small and enveloping town. My dreams were begging to be released. CeCe and I had both been accepted into the University of Georgia in Athens, a much bigger and cultured Georgian city. I would be free to make my own path, to show off my God-given talents and become the journalist I’ve dreamt of since childhood. We were so excited after finding out we both got in. I was pretty sure I would get in and CeCe’s parents were not only alumni but also whatever she lacked in GPA made up in generous donations to the university. We had it all planned out. The first two years we’d stay in the dorms together and then get an apartment close to campus during our junior year. Studying abroad was, without doubt, in our plans for at least a semester—preferably Paris or Rome—somewhere full of adventure. Like her parents, she planned to major in political science, which pleased both her parents. Although law didn’t seem fitting for CeCe, she would definitely be a lethal force to debate with. CeCe could be very persuasive and had a way with words that made her hard to argue with. Most of the girls in our school were a bit intimidated by CeCe’s tenacity while the guys looked at CeCe as hot but high-maintenance. However, I’d catch Eric Sothersby sneaking a glance, now and then, at CeCe, still probably bewildered by her forwardness in the janitor’s closet. And even though they hadn’t talked since that day in the fifth grade, I could sense that he still had a thing for CeCe, by the way he became mesmerized when he locked his sights on her. I had always thought Eric Sothersby was such a nice guy besides his good looks and charming shyness. CeCe seemed to be too busy looking for her next thrill to catch Eric’s sneak peeks.
What seemed to take forever was coming to a close in just a few hours. The gymnasium was starting to fill up and I could see my fellow peers pouring in with their blue and white gowns on. Soon, the band would start playing Pomp and Circumstance. From behind the stage I could see my mom and dad, Grandma Evi and Grandma Rose sitting in the front row. My brothers were probably walking around talking with old friends. Who I hadn’t seen yet was my boyfriend, which was no surprise to me. It was now 6:15 PM and we were getting ready to line up to begin the march down the middle aisle towards the podium.
“Where is he? I told him not to be late.”
“Is it really any surprise Char? That boy is always up to no good.”
Just then Mrs. Palen, our principal, came over to announce that we must get in line with our partner. “Charlotte, you’ll be leading everyone up to the stage. Remember to go to the front row and walk towards the end of the chairs.” She said while straightening my cap.
“CeCe, this is just like Jersey to show up late for graduation.”
“Char, I’ll be your partner. Charlie can walk with someone else, I’m sure he won’t mind. Besides this is our moment to shine,” CeCe said smiling.
“Ce, thank you. I did not want to walk up the aisle, alone, with a million eyeballs on me.”
“Okay ladies,” Mrs. Palen instructed, “as soon as you hear Pomp and Circumstance begin you can start walking down the aisle just as we practiced earlier.” She then turned towards the rest of the line of students and informed them, “I will stand at the back here and tap ya’ll on the shoulder to let you know when to start walking down the aisle.”
With my long curled brown hair, perfectly in place, I locked my right arm with CeCe’s. A few seconds later I heard the sound of trumpets, tubas, and clarinets start up.
“Here we go Char,” CeCe said beaming as if we were walking down the red carpet.
As we marched down the aisle flashing lights sparkled throughout the gymnasium while the music filled the warm country air. Our banner, ‘Class of 1995’ proudly swayed over the podium where I would be speaking in just a little while. As we neared the front row I saw all of my brothers whistling and yelling “Go Char”. My parents, with cameras held up to their faces, were smiling and cheering us on. Beside them, my grandmothers were waving and clapping. On the other side of my brothers, I could see CeCe’s parents. They were smiling proudly and snapping up pictures of us while we floated towards the podium. Stepping onto the stage I unlocked arms with CeCe and started towards the end of the row, with CeCe filing in behind me. As I sat down, I started rehearsing my speech in my mind. I had almost forgotten how mad I was at Jersey for not showing up yet again for another important moment in my life. Watching all my fellow classmates fill up the seats made my stomach begin to twist and turn as I knew I would be speaking in front of more people than I had in my whole life in just minutes. Suddenly I felt CeCe elbowing me in my side, temporarily relieving my building anxiety.
Whispering towards my ear, CeCe said, “look who’s sneaking in the back of the line.”
Trying to contain m
y composure I saw Jersey and five of his buddies looking somber. Mrs. Palen appeared to be reading them the riot act, while shooing them in pairs towards the front of the gymnasium. CeCe later told me that she could almost see daggers springing forth from my eyes like little ninjas darting at his face.
“Char, don’t worry about him, you have an awesome speech to give,” CeCe again whispered.
Mrs. Palen motioned me to go to the podium to begin my speech.
Nervous, I walked up to the podium to give the speech I’d been waiting a lifetime to give. Although I could compose speeches relatively easily, speaking to a crowd of more than a thousand was nerve-wrecking.
“Welcome to the graduating class of 1995. Thank you for coming today and for traveling with us in this journey here. Without you, we could not have made it.”
Turning towards my fellow graduates, “And to you Class of 1995, I say today is your day.”
I continued on with the first few paragraphs of my favorite Dr. Seuss book.
“Congratulations!
Today is your day.
You're off to Great Places!
You're off and away!”
”You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes.
You can steer yourself
any direction you choose.
Southern Belles, a Novel About Love, Purpose & Second Chances (9781310340970) Page 2
