How Will I Know: The 80s Baby Series

by C Lesbirel

  “And you think you can give me that?”

  “I didn’t say anything about that. I just offered to take you for a milkshake.”

  “You’re so annoying.” She rolls her eyes, and I grin as we reach Shake it Up, and I push the door open for her.

  As soon as we step inside, the sound of the juke box fills the air, and she grabs my hand, yanking me forward. “This is my jam; you have to dance with me.”

  I pull back, shaking my head. “No. No. I don’t dance.” She ignores me, pulling me forward and swinging her hips in a majestic rhythm that my body can’t refuse, even if my head is yelling at me to sit the fuck down before I make a total fool out of myself.

  Lizzie

  He wasn’t kidding. He really can’t dance, but his hands feel good at my waist as we sway in time with the music. When we find a seat opposite each other in a booth as the song finishes up, I study him as he studies the menu.

  His eyes are even bluer than I ever noticed when he was behind the counter, and his relaxed smile makes me feel at ease when I really shouldn’t be. If my parents knew I was grabbing a milkshake with a guy I barely knew, especially one who worked in a video rental shop, they’d totally freak out.

  It’s not that Dad is opposed to me dating. He doesn’t hate the idea. So long as he gets to choose who I spend my time with. Mom has taken his recent relaxation of the rules around me dating as a green light to talk to her friends' sons and try to set me up, which is even worse than the idea of being single forever.

  The boys she has picked out for me to hook up with so far have been rich, painfully boring and have no interest in getting to know me at all. They spent the entire time either talking about themselves or not talking at all. Zack is refreshingly different. He doesn’t just want to look at me, he has questions. About me. My life. What I thought about the world.

  Over the next couple of hours, his million questions ome pouring out like the strawberry shakes we’re drinking, and although I’m not ready to give away too much about myself, I find him surprisingly easy to talk to.

  “So, that’s why you watch so many romance movies? For inspiration.”

  “Yeah, it’s basically research.”

  “Is that the idea? You watch so many that writing your own is a piece of cake.”

  “If only it was that easy.” I sigh.

  “And you’re really going to leave Pine Grove?”

  “I’m going to try. But it’s not going to be easy unless I can save up some money of my own. My parents aren’t exactly on board with me becoming a screenwriter.”

  “I think it’s a great idea.”

  “You do?”

  “Yeah. You obviously enjoy movies; it makes total sense that you would want to write one.” He says it as though it really does make sense, even though I’d never told anyone except my parents what I wanted to do. The idea had started and ended with them because they thought it was one of the most ridiculous things they’d ever heard.

  Especially the part about me moving to Hollywood or New York City to try to get my manuscripts noticed by someone important.

  When I told my parents, my dad commented, “If you make good enough grades, you could pick something up at The Grove Times. Maybe you could work your way up to editor.”

  Then Mom put her two cents in, “Oh, I don’t know about that, darling. It’s not easy to run a home and care for small children. Something part time and less stressful. Don’t you think, Lizzie?”

  What was I supposed to say to that? I haven’t even left college yet, and they already have my whole life planned out for me.

  “What about you? Don’t you want to get out of Pine Grove and see the world?”

  “I never really thought about it.” He shrugs and takes a long sip of his shake.

  “But you must have thought about what you want?”

  “Right now, I’m working on saving up for my own place. But in the long term, I would love to become a manager.”

  His dream seemed so simple, and I hate myself for asking my next question, but I have to understand why anyone could possibly dream so small.

  “A manager at Planet Movie?”

  “Don’t look so horrified.” Did I? I grab my shake to busy my mouth in the hope it disguises my give away expression. “Planet Movie isn’t that bad. You don’t start until late, so the mornings are your own. Plus you get free rentals. I could put a good word in for you, if you like?”

  “As in me work at Planet Movie?”

  “Why not? Are you too fancy for it?”

  “No. No, it’s not that,” I lie. Is that what he thinks of me? That I think I’m better than him.

  He wouldn’t be alone in that. My friends all said it’s the reason I’m still single, and they all have boyfriends. Maybe they were right. Perhaps I do have a frigid looking face.

  “I was just wondering how I could fit it in around college.” Another lie. “Actually, it’s not the worst idea. I work in the evenings and on weekends. You know what? I’m going to apply.”

  “Cool.” He smiles with no idea that he’s given me something to be excited about for the first time in ages. I’ve been so hung up on waiting to access my savings fund when I turn twenty-one that I’ve never considered getting a real job and earning the money myself.

  Of course, my parents can’t know about it. But, what they don’t know won’t hurt them, and if I can save enough for a deposit on a small apartment, it might help prove to them how serious I am about moving away.

  “Shall I walk you home?”

  “I don’t feel like going home. I’m having too much fun.” I smile, jumping up from the booth and sashaying my hips from side to side.

  “If you want to dance some more then let’s at least go somewhere where the music is good,” he shouts above a slow ballad that’s started up, and I glance across to the jukebox where the couple who chose it are making out.

  “Like where?”

  “I dunno. What about Skateland?”

  “Yes.” I grab his hand and head for the door. He didn’t need to ask me twice. I’d always dreamed of a date at the roller disco. There’s something so romantic about two people holding hands and skating around in circles to the music.

  Zack

  What about Skateland? Was I out of my goddamn mind?

  Something about Lizzie sparks an innate need in me to impress her. She has this energy and a presence about her that draws me to her like She-Ra to He-Man. Every minute that I spend with her, I soar a little higher into the unknown universe, and that cute little giggle she keeps doing makes me feel like anything was possible.

  “You’re going to have to bear with me, it’s been a while since I skated,” I admit as she practices twirling in her rented roller skates while I finish lacing mine up. The truth is, I haven’t been roller skating in years. With so many mouths to feed at home, most of my cash is taken up before it lands in my hand. Not that I mind helping Mom and Dad out, we’re a team, and what’s mine is theirs. But, frivolities like tickets to Skateland are few and far between. Still, tonight is different. She is different. And, I can’t let her go, not just yet.

  Pushing up to my feet, I immediately grab hold of her shoulders to save myself from landing in a heap on the floor.

  “Oh my God, you weren’t kidding, were you?”

  “I just need a minute to get used to it again.”

  “You’ll be fine. Hold my hand,” she offers, and for the third time today, she wraps her fingers around mine. The last two times was a thoughtless gesture. An impulsive movement that she doesn’t seem to notice has set off heated tingles in my palms as they press against hers.

  This time the motion was intentional, and judging by the way she watches her fingers curl around mine in slow motion, I think she knows about the tingles. Maybe, she even feels them too because when her eyes lift to mine, there’s a secretive look there. One that I don’t recognise but have an overwhelming desire to see more of.

  Lizzie has as many different sides t
o her as a rubix cube, and the more time I spend with her, the more I want to figure her out.

  Moving forward one shuffle at a time, we make our way to the rink and begin to skate around in circles. She does most of the skating part, I mostly focus on not breaking my neck, but after a few laps I begin to get the hang of it.

  “Do you want to try a lap on your own?” she yells over Madonna’s, Into the Groove.

  “Not really.”

  “I think you’ve got this.”

  “I know, I just like holding your hand.”

  She rolls her eyes but smiles at the same time, and I grin. Even a chick as hot as her can’t resist the Harris charm.

  We skate a few more laps holding hands before she breaks the contact to show off some of her more complicated moves. I watch in awe as she giggles and skates circles around me, her body twirling and dancing in one majestic movement to another.

  With her arms in the air, her hips swaying to hit each beat of the music and her wide smile, relaxed and carefree, I can’t resist the temptation to grab her by the waist and pull her into me as I pause for a second’s break and lean against the side barrier.

  Her giggles cease and are replaced with an inquisitive look as she eyeballs me.

  “I have to tell you something.”

  She bats her lashes, clearly expecting me to make a move on her.

  “You’re the biggest show off I know.”

  She pushes off my chest. “I am not a show off.”

  “You are. All those spins and twirls. You’re a bonafide show off. Hell, I don’t blame you. I would be too if I could skate like that.”

  “It’s not that hard.”

  I arch a brow at her and a small chuckle escapes her pouty lips before asking, “Why did you bring me here if you knew you sucked so badly at it?”

  “Because, I thought you’d have fun and because I wanted to spend more time with you.”

  “You did?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And why’s that?” She slides towards me in one simple move, and I catch her elbows, pulling her closer.

  “Because you’re gorgeous.”

  She pushes off my chest again and begins another lap of the rink, shouting back over her shoulder, “Any guy could tell me that.”

  Within a few moments, she’s completed the lap, and I’m still standing against the wall where she left me.

  “Because I like you.”

  “Boring.” She passes me and circles again. Backwards this time and with arm movements that synchronise with Cindi Lauper’s, Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.

  I move off from the barrier and try my best to pull my shit together and stay upright, skating after her. When I grab her waist from behind, I think I’m more surprised than she is at the fact that I’ve managed to skate around the rink without holding onto anything.

  “You make me want to skate, when I suck at it.”

  “And,” she yells as I hold onto her hips and start to get the hang of things.

  “And you make me feel like this could be something.”

  “Something?”

  “The best kind of something.”

  “How do I know you don’t just want to get into my pants?”

  “I most definitely do want to get into your pants,” “I shout and a couple of girls arch a brow at me with a look of disdain as they skate by.

  Lizzie slows a stop by the barrier, and I slam into it, almost punching a whole through it with my knees.

  “What I mean is, of course I want to get into your pants. What guy wouldn’t? You’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever laid eyes on. I’ve wanted to get into your pants since I worked my first shift at Planet Movie and watched you pick out a bunch of smutty movies.

  “For research.” She drops a hand to her hip.

  “Whatever. What I’m trying to say is that after tonight, I don’t just want to get down and dirty with you. I want to get to know you. The real you. The sassy, carefree version of you that I didn’t expect.

  She stares up at me, parts her lips, and I brace myself for another of her smart-ass comebacks. Instead, I’m thrown completely off guard when she throws her arms up around my neck and lands a harsh kiss on my lips that steals my breath and balance away in one sweet second.

  Falling to the ground and taking her down with me, we both chuckle, and I take full advantage of our new found position of her lying flat on top of me, her nose almost touching mine. Wrapping my hands up in her hair, I pull her toward me and kiss her again with an equally harsh kiss.

  The taste of Hubba Bubba bubble-gum and strawberry milkshake fills my mouth in an explosion of sweetness, and I ignore the guy who has stopped to help us both up to kiss my Strawberry Shortcake for as long as physically possible.

  Lizzie

  It only takes three days from the point of handing in my Cirriculum Vitae at Planet Movie for me to get the job. It probably has everything to do with the good word Zack put in for me. Three days of trusting my gut and giving someone who is so completely wrong for me a chance to prove the opposite and he’d spent every moment we were together doing exactly that.

  He doesn’t have even half the money the guys my mom had pushed at me had, but what he does have is triple the personality.

  Plus, he’s the first boy I’ve kissed. I mean, I’ve been kissed before, but I always promised myself I wouldn’t be like the girls in the movies.

  The other girls at college all wanted to be Sandy, but I want to be a Rizzo. In a world of Pink Ladies, give me a leather jacket any day of the week.

  I hate the way the heroines sit there all pouty looking just waiting for their hero to make his move. Why wait?

  Besides, if I waited for Zack to make the first move, we’d still be waiting now, because although he wants to pretend like he’s all cool and collected, he’s totally buggin’ that we’re spending time together.

  The thing is, he thinks I’m out of his league just because I’m richer than he is. What he doesn’t realise is that he’s richer in so many ways. Being popular is not all it’s cracked up to be. The more people like you, the less you like yourself. There’s so much pressure to have the best hair, wear the best outfit, and my dad adds to the pressure to be top of the class in every single subject. It’s a lot.

  From what I’ve seen so far, Zack’s small bunch of real friends are more valuable than the entire group of popularity chasers I usually hang out with.

  “Haven’t you seen that one a hundred times?” he asks as I set aside Overboard to take home with me later.

  “It’s one of the best.”

  “No way. This is the best,” he replies, sliding a copy of Top Gun over to me. “This is what you should be watching.”

  “Not exactly my thing.”

  “Are you kidding, Tom Cruise is everybody’s thing. You should come over to my place, and we can watch it together.”

  “Over my dead body,” my dad’s voice catches both of our attention.

  “Daddy?”

  “You have a lot of explaining to do, young lady.”

  “What are you doing here?” he demands. I sense Zack’s presence as he steps behind me, and I love his protectiveness, as much as my dad hates it.

  “I can explain.” I fly around the desk and run toward him before he does anything that might jeopardise my job here. It’s only my second shift, and the first was a trial, but I’m really enjoying working alongside Zack and getting to know him better. Plus, this is my one chance to prove myself to both my parents. I just need to somehow convince him to go home, so we can talk about this later.

  “Oh, you better, Lizzie.” He grabs my arm and begins marching me out of the shop.

  I pull back.

  “Dad, I can’t just leave. I’m halfway through my shift.”

  “If you think that I’m going to allow my daughter to work here, in this…” He waves a hand around as though looking for the right words.

  “It’s just a movie rental shop, Dad.”

  “A movie rental
shop? Have I raised you to think that you belong in a place like this?”

  “I think you should listen to what Lizzie has to say, sir.” Zack rounds the counter and interrupts us, and I silently thank God that there’s no customers in here to see the commotion.

  “And who the hell is this clown?” I wince at my dad’s words, but Zack doesn’t shift his gaze from my dad’s hands which are still wrapped firmly around my arm.

  “Zack Harris, sir. I would say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but unfortunately, I won’t be able to until you take your hands off Lizzie.”

  “It’s okay, Zack.” I rush to reassure him. Desperately trying to diffuse the situation and wishing the ground would open up and swallow me whole.

  “No, it’s not. I don’t care if it’s your dad or not. I’m sorry, Lizzie, but you don’t deserve to be dragged around like some ragdoll.”

  “Now you listen to me, boy.” My dad drops my arm and swoops a finger in Zack’s face. His cheeks glow red with anger. No one ever tells my dad what to do.

  “No, you listen to me.” Rick appears from the back of the shop and quickly moves to position himself between Zack and my dad. “I’ve been running this shop for seven years, and we ain’t never had no trouble. I don’t intend on changing that. So, either you get out, or I call mall security and have you thrown out.”

  “Have you any idea who you are dealing with?” My dad’s voice is low and as warning as the look he throws my way.

  “I don’t care who you are. This is my shop, and these are my goddamn staff, so scram.” He steps forward, folding his arms across his chest and glaring at my dad, his expression dead pan. “I won’t tell you again.”

  My dad isn’t the type to back down. Not to anyone. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him not get his own way in my whole life, so when he shakes his head and looks back at me with utter disappointment in his eyes, I shrink to the size of a Polly Pocket.

  “You’re to come straight home after your shift, Lizzie. We clearly have much to discuss.”

  I nod and force a small smile to let him know that I do care what he thinks, but the major shift in dynamic between us is visible in every line of his forehead. Standing here in my Planet Movie polo shirt, in a job that I’d gotten all by myself – with a little help from Zack, only made me more confident that I’m exactly where I need to be.