I don’t know where to go. I said I wanted to go to the beach earlier, so I guess I'll still go there. The drive there is complicated, though. Er, it doesn’t matter. I just want to take some pictures and… I think I left my camera at home.
I parked at a gas station, hopped out and looked in my bag in the back seat. I found my camera! I pulled myself back up and thought to go into the store and buy some snacks. I'll be alone at the beach but I don’t want to be alone and hungry. As I was still oddly bent over in my back seat, I heard someone say with a deep voice, “You know someone can easily jump in your car and drive away with you hanging out the back.”
He made me hit my head on the door panel really freakin’ hard because of how quick I jumped to see who it was. That really hurt. It was that Dewayne guy. What the heck? Is he like… stalking me? I glared at him while rubbing my hands through my big curly, black hair. Oh, yeah… He’s stalking me.
Me: “Why do you keep bothering me?”
Dewayne: “I didn’t want to walk past you without saying something. That would make me seem fake.”
Me: “What? I was turned over? And no, it would make you seem normal. Right now I'm not getting the vibe that you're fake or normal.”
Dewayne: “So…… I’m neither?”

My forehead creased dramatically and I glared even harder at the flag pole, “What do you want?”
Dewayne: “Nothing. I have to want something from you?”
Me: “No guy keeps bothering someone unless they want something. It’s a little bit more than logical.”
Dewayne: “Has anyone ever told you that you're strange, Mahrie?”


When he sad that, I became very upset. What type of idiot would say something like that? He doesn’t even know me! I jumped out of my backseat, slammed the door and wandered to the driver’s seat. Dewayne just stared at me while holding his Snapple juice and a bag of Cheetos. I tried to slam my door, but he held it with his free hand. His hand is really strong!
Dewayne: “N-n-n-n-no! I didn’t mean it as a bad thing, Mahrie! Your weird is cool!”
Me: “Leave me alone and let go of my freakin’ door, Dewayne!”


I continued pulling on my door, but his face released tension and he grinned, “You know my name?” I snarled in anger and threw my hands onto the steering wheel. He pulled the door open a little wider and stared at me harder.
Dewayne: “How do you know my name? I never told you.”
Me: “………... I overheard you and your friend talking about college."
Dewayne: "Well, yeah I’m Dewayne. Dewayne Thompson."
Me: "Dewayne Thompson, please let go of my door. I'm using my manners."
Dewayne: "This time the manners don't count. Tell me your name… I didn’t get it right earlier.”
Me: “No. Why? It’s not like you need it.”
Dewayne: “I thought I would. Aren't we going to the same college? It would be pretty awesome if you knew someone before you go there.”

My forehead was now underneath my eyes. He’s a stalker. He has to be. How did he know what college I was going to? It wasn’t announced. Jeez, just leave me alone is all I'm asking. It’s not that hard. I JUST WANT PRIVACY!
Dewayne: “How did we meet up here? Y’know, like at the same time. I’m on my way out and you’re on your way in. Haha, weird right? [silly voice] Might be a coincidence!"

My attitude went from being mad, to angry, to frustrated, and now to hopeless and desperate. My voice was hopeless and all I wanted him to do was let go of my door. That is all.
"Look... Dewayne,” I tried to think of a good enough lie, “I'm trying to leave because I have something to do." That’s the best I could think of. His eyes squint and he grinned. I'm starting to like his smile, now. It’s so perfect and pearly. My teeth are perfect, too, all because of braces, but his are like… Taylor Lautner’s teeth.
Just plain Beautiful.
He leaned on my door and smiled, "Then why are you parked on a sidewalk at a corner store?"
Me: " [fluffs my hair and sighs] Can you just let it go? I'm not that strong to keep pulling on this door."
Dewayne: "Yeah, I meant to tell you that... you're so petite. How tall are you like 4'11? Haha. I keep on going with the convo, don’t I?”

Yes, yes you do. Why does he keep trying to? I’m becoming ill from this. His phone rang and he pulled his molded hands off of my door. As soon as he looked at his phone, I slammed my door and revved my engine. His face dropped, but he still smiled. I hate when people look that way. It bothers me and makes me feel guilty.

I mean, it would be nice to know someone. It’s like he's reading my thoughts and revising them as defense. Morally and mentally; he’s very wise.

Dewayne: "[sad, yet mischievous tone] Alright Mahrie. Bye, then."

He slipped his phone into his pocket and started walking away, slowly. I opened my door as he was walking away, "Dewayne..." I wasn't thinking while I was talking. I wasn't thinking, I wasn’t thinking, I wasn’t thinking. I’m going to regret this sooo bad!
Me: "I'm sorry... I'm... I'm just not used to talking to… people like you..."

Dewayne smiled and jogged back to my car, "So what’s up?"
What's up? What does he mean? Oh, now I don't know about this. I want to just get back in my car and head for the beach. It’s like I keep falling back into his tricks. He knew I would feel sympathy for him as he walked away. I’m tellin’ you; it’s his good looks and smile.
Me: "What? What do you mean?"
Dewayne: "What are you about to do? My friends and I are—"

I tuned out when I heard him say my friends. I don't know them... so that's a no. He stood looking at me and I guess he had finished what he was saying.
Dewayne: "So.... is that a yes or no?"
Me: "Um.... I don't really want to be around people I don't know. I'm not a people person. Plus, I’m on my way to the beach… so…”
Dewayne: “Oh really? Mind if we join you?”

Why would he want to join me? Why would they want to join me? I feel like this is a set up. He’s really, charming, his smile is breathtaking, and he has to be popular. This is a set up, but I won't speak out. I just can't do it.
Me: “Why do you want to come…?”
Dewayne: “Well, you seem kind of lonely. Come on, Mahrie. I haven’t seen you talk to anybody in months—better yet, years! Relax and take advantage of this. Anyways, in college you’ll have to socialize.”
Me: “Why is it now that you want to communicate with me? You’ve had years…”


He wiped his face and bit his lip, “That is true. I don’t know; I guess I didn’t think any time would be better than today. All the other times I felt like you would have pushed me away or talked bad to me if I tried. Today was my only chance to try haha.”
He was right. I would have probably even turned away. Ignored him with a bland facial expression. Today was his only chance to whom which he achieved talking to me.
Me: “You stole my bag and wouldn’t give it to me. That’s trying?”
Dewayne: “Yeah, in a forceful type of way. Haha”
Me: “Wow, okay.”


I beamed largely and then looked in the direction of the corner store. I guess he could join me. I could work on some of my social skills. It could be good. How could it possibly turn out wrong?

I turned back and looked at him smiling, "You can come with."
Dewayne: "I was gonna come anyways. Hehe!"
Me: "I would’ve ignored you. But, do I need to drive you or...?"
Dewayne: "Nah, you see that Mustang and Cadillac right there? That's me and my friends. I’on need no ride, man!"
I really don't want to be bothered with his friends. It made me want to change my mind tremendously. He didn't ask if they could come; nevertheless did he ask if they could be with us. I don't really want to be alone with him, but he's the only one I know, so I'd rather be alone with him than a crowd full of unknown people, together. That’s taking the social thing too fast, vividly.
I false smiled and stared at him, "Dewayne, I don't really want to be around them. That's moving a little too fast for my socialization Haha." All he did was smile at me. His breathtaking-ness makes me tingle inside. Whew... This is something serious.
He put his free hand on his hip and posed funny, "You're so cute Mahrie. We can be alone if that's what you want. They can just come along, but we'll leave them. Cool?"
Me: "Yeah, that's cool."
Dewayne: "Aight! I'm leading?"
Me: "Yeah, guess so. I have to get something from the store though. I'll catch up."
Dewayne: "Okay."

He marched towards the cars filled with friends and shouted a few things. I heard them say, "What happened to the party?" and "What the hell made you wanna go to the beach?" He was defending himself, but he was also defended me. One guy said, “Is that yo b_tch?” and “That h_e made you change yo mind, bruh?” Dewayne was all tense about that. He shouted, “She ain’t no b_tch, nigga!! Yo girl the b_tch; F_ckin’ with every nigga in school!”

Woah... Foul mouths. It grossed me out to hear that much cursing. Well, the cursing made the boy really mad. His girlfriend must really be a female dog.
I was starting to get grossed-out. While walking into the store, Dewayne honked at me and drove off in speed. So much for thoughtfulness and consideration; I could’ve been pulled into a van at anytime and taken away. The speed of the process would have been a little protracted, but it is possible. Me being the peculiar schoolgirl that I am, I grabbed two Arizona Lemon Teas, a Chick-o-stick, some pickled chips, and spinach artichoke dip. I love snacks, man! After I loaded my car with my snacks, I headed for the beach completely mindless.

Everything turned out well. We all ended up splitting up and even some of Dewayne's crew left. It was pretty awesome. I sat in my new car eating some of my snacks and talking to Dewayne. He was so outgoing and we acted like we've known each other for years when it's only been a day. Actually less than that… a few hours.
Dewayne: “Ew, are you about to dip those chips into that dip?”
Me: “[dipping] Uh yeah; it’s actually really good. You wanna try some?”
Dewayne: “No… Nooooo. I don’t want that, all the stuff you have is weird—except for the Arizona’s. Where are the Skittles and M&M’s or the Laffy Taffys and Nerds? What about the Doritos? Girl, you slackin’.”
Me: “No, we just have different taste buds.”
Dewayne: “Yes… I see that. I see that completely.”

I sat my chips and dip on the top of my dashboard and looked at him, “See your taste buds are like the receptors for tasting things. The average human tongue has about 2,000–8,000 taste buds and they’re located around the small structures on the upper surface of the tongue… [counting on fingers] soft palate, upper esophagus and epiglottis, which are called papillae. They—“
Dewayne: “Mahrie!”


I jumped a little. He looked at me smiling, “I don’t want to talk about taste buds… I wanna talk about something other than things involving school. We’re done with school for a couple of months!”
Me: “School is involved with everything, because our classes give recreational detail, but we can talk about something else. Haha”

I grabbed my dip and we started talking. He told me how he felt about school and whatnot, but I guess we saved the personals for the beach-walk. He told me I couldn’t talk about school anymore because I get carried away. Meany.

▽
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The beautiful beach water is just something to die for. I had my camera’s neck strap around my neck and I left my rose-colored flats in my car. I love how the damp sand molds your feet’s physical and how it feels so cold when you compress the soggy sand in your toes. It’s the best thing ever; I’m a beach-addicted barefoot photographer.
Our conversation started back slowly. Since we left the car, it was like our mind was out of things to say. We walked in silence for about five minutes. I was fine with it; the sand, my camera, and the beautiful view were all I needed. Unfortunately, the peace didn’t last long.
Dewayne: "So tell me a little more about you. I wanna know about you… I’m sitting here clueless about this girl I'm walking with. You’re a stranger!!"
Me: "[sigh] Everything?"
He beamed and licked his lips, Yeah, everything.” It was like one of those slow motion scenes. His lick seemed slow, his smile appeared slow and his eyes blinked slowly. Unbelievable.
I took a deep breath and thought where to start. My name and the basics are a necessity, "My name is Mahrie. Mahrie Aura. I‘m mixed… with a lot.” I laughed to ease any tension. If there was any.
"I'm 5'0, I’m from Tampa, but we moved here to Miami for a new start. I guess you could call me a photographer. Photography is my life." I lifted my camera a little to show its beautifully glamorous quality off.
Dewayne: "I knew you had to be close to 4'11. I'm one inch off. And is that why you have that cuddly Latino accent?"
Me: "Yeah, something like that.
Dewayne: “Okay finish!”
Me: “Okay! I love food, obviously and I have a studying problem. Working and studying is a mental problem for me. It messes with my sociality and mentality. I'm the type that would put studying before anything."
Dewayne: "Why?"
Me: "I don't know. That's just me. I can't say I was raised that way… It’s just a characteristic of me. You know how some people put drugs or men before things?"
Dewayne: “It’s a mental thing. It’s not like a trait though, it grows on you.”
Me: “Exactly. It’s not an attribute, but it’s more of a… frustration… sometimes.”
Dewayne: “What’s wrong with studying?”
Me: “Nothing. You just have to have a balance with everything.”
Dewayne: “Naaa, I don’t think you need a balance with studying. You can never study too much, but you can study too less. That leads to failing grades.”
Me: “Being smart isn’t always a plus. The teachers used to try and deduct points from my grades because I outsmarted them. It’s not fun, but I can't stop.”

Dewayne stopped and stood in front of me with a cute serious face, "I bet that will change when we get in college!"
Me: "What? We? When I get in college, my mind is still going to be focused. You, I don’t know about you. You’re a basketball player so our minds are on two different levels.”
Dewayne: “What’s that supposed to mean, miss?”
Me: “That you're the type of young guy that would rather go to a group party, drink as a minor, which is absolutely illegal, and stay out past your curfew rather than study for an exam the next day.”
Dewayne: “And you’re more than right. But that’s about to change a little.”
Me: “Dewayne, you’re about to play basketball for a college that you don’t have to pay anything for, everything is completely free, you'll have money in your pocket, and you're attractive? Let’s not play innocence”
Dewayne: “You’re underestimating me because I'm sexy. That’s a stereotype, man.”

I laughed at his humor, “Was I wrong about the things before, though? About the drinking, and probably smoking, as a minor?”
Dewayne: “Eh… It’s kind of half and half. I drink and smoke when I'm celebrating. That’s all.”
Me: “Ugh! That’s horrible. Celebrating could be an everyday thing! I'm a minor by the way—not 18 yet."
Dewayne: “So? I’m already 18 and I was supposed to celebrate tonight… Instead, I wanted to chill with you, Mah-rie!”
Me: "Haha thanks. But, you know if anybody found out we were hanging out, you’d be—“
Dewayne: “I know Mahrie…”
Me: “You'd risk your freedom for a girl you barely even know?"
Dewayne: "Well, I'm getting to know you."
Me: "I'm not gonna let that happen."
Dewayne: "So you'll just ignore me?"

I snapped a picture of the water waves and then snapped another of the water on my feet. Dewayne kept running from the water because he had on Jordan’s. I was actually trying to run from him because I didn’t want to answer his questions. I’m tired of his questions.
Dewayne: “Mahrie… You’re gonna ignore me when we get to college?”
Me: "I can't give you an exact answer to that... you ask too many questions."

He started to puzzle my mind. Tension was building up. I hope he wasn't trying to start anything serious. I'm not that type of girl. I've never been in a relationship before and I'm not even close to wanting to. He's so weird and filled with questions.
Dewayne: "Y’know, all this stuff that I’m saying is just an analysis to see what type of girl you are. I’m pretty good at what I do aren’t I?
Me: “Yes… Very good!”
Dewayne: “If basketball doesn’t do well, I’m going into journalism.”
Me: "That’s great, but I have a question..."
Dewayne: "Yes ma'am?"
Me: "Oh god I can't believe I'm about to say this..."
Dewayne: "Just spit it!"
Me: "Um....hmmp.”

I laughed a little. I really wanted to ask him what he was trying to do. Whatever it is… I'm not interested. No time for things unnecessary. I have a severe life on my shoulders and I'm sure that a guy wouldn’t make it any better. Are you trying to like... get together with me? I'm really not into that right now. Just say that, Mahrie! Say it!
Dewayne smiled and stopped walking with me. Did he already know what I was thinking? Ugh, god he’s a mind reader.
Dewayne: “Look, if you're starting to get the wrong thoughts out of this whole… thing, lets end the frustration right now. I’m not trying to get with you, you’re a minor… That’s rape. Now, when you turn 18, I will be waiting. Haha, I’m jokin’.”

An elephant just hopped off of my body.
Me: “Wow, it’s like you're reading my mind.”
Dewayne: “I could be like Twilight. You never really know.”
Me: “Don’t get me started on the ‘proving that statement wrong with biological facts’ subject. I’ll never get off of it.”
Dewayne: “Oh, lord please no! Haha but I just want you to have a friend to socialize with while you're in college. You’d pass up the opportunity to already know someone?”
Me: “No, we’re kind of cool now.”
Dewayne: “That’s why you were so tense earlier. Shakin’ my head… Girls.”

I snapped a picture of him and said, “What were you thinking when you saw me—first saw me.” His face twisted and he stared at me.
Dewayne: “That’s sounds like a relationship type of question.”
Me: “Well it’s not. Can you answer it?”


He rubbed his face, balled up his fist and started softly punching his hand, “I thought,” he said speaking slowly, pronouncing out every letter, “you looked like one of those dramatically, inducing girls. Like... those chicks that persuade guys to do horrible things and then blame him for everything.”
Me: “Gold digger?”
Dewayne: “Kind of… I’m thinkin’ more of a platinum digger.”

I scrunched my face up in disgust and hit his arm, “I don’t look like a gold digger!!” Dewayne flinched and laughed historically.
Dewayne: “…………………… I said platinum, not gold!”
Me: “Whatever!”
Dewayne: “Yes, yes you do! But, you’re an abnormally sexy gold digger. You’re so petite and this big hair and fashion of yours is so innovating.”
Me: “That’s cool, though.”
Dewayne: “Yeah! It is. It’s what makes you so unique. But I bet you’re the type of girl that listens to that weird music.”
Me: “I don’t think you notice that you keep insulting me, Dewayne.”
Dewayne: “Shit, sorry. You can insult me!”


My face turned twisted. Why would I purposely insult someone? It’s just about the dumbest thing anyone can do. I glowered at him in an innocently dubious type of way, “Deliberate insults? That’s where we’re different. Your feelings are less sympathetic and more aggressive and slightly violent!”
Dewayne: “I’m violent? No, no I’m not!”
Me: “I bet if we became closer friends, which I'm not improvising the fact of the matter, but you’d be the friendly-violent type of friend.”


Dewayne cackled so hard, “What the hell is friendly-violent? Mahrie, they cancel each other out! You can't be friendly and then be violent. Oh, no, no, no!”
Me: “Prove me wrong then, Mr. Know-it-all.”
Dewayne: “[smacks lips] Girl, be quiet. Anyways, when you walked in the Rec room today, I just knew I had to talk to you.”
Me: “It was your only chance.”
Dewayne: “Exactly! You were so pissed, too. Tahaaha, what did you think about me when you first saw me?”
Me: “I wasn’t mad, I was irritated! And a guy like you wasn’t going to make it better. But I never paid attention to you until today.”
Dewayne: “Well…”

Me: “Well what?”
Dewayne: “What did you think of me?”


I held my camera up and took two pictures of a little girl and her mom walking along the sideline. I remembered coming to the beach with my mom and dad. We stopped doing family-oriented things because my mom became sick. She’s fine now, but I just have to say my childhood was ruined because of my mom being sick. I didn’t know what to do when she wasn’t well, so I was always alone. She’d be in the hospital for months at a time and I’d be at home with my mom’s sister, Gabriella. Gabriella was so bipolar. So I stayed in my room all the time. I wasn’t old enough to leave on my own and I lived in a neighborhood with oldies and no kids. I was compelled to be alone.
My dad kept going back to Mexico to see, and help, his sick mom and keep her house all right—as her compliance to him. When she died is when my daddy came back… years later. We’ve had the largest gap in our relationship, and now he’s trying to make up for it, but it’s so hard to concur with it. The last truly fun family-oriented thing I did with my family together was our beach walk. I was three and I remember the day better than any other date in my life. It sounds impossible, but it’s not. It was around the middle of September. It was starting to get chilly out, but the beach was still satisfying.

I still love my dad, but the space is so redundant. My mom is more than better now and my dad is perfectly fine. Why haven’t we done anything together? Truly, I think my mom and dad are making up for the years they were apart. It’s sort of devastating, so I don’t mind; but what about me? They act as if they’re still young and don’t have a daughter to care for. Where’s the real compassionate love I needed during my young life?

Dewayne stared me down and noticed the puzzlement encrypted in my face, “Something upsetting you?” I jumped back into reality and shook my head no. I falsely grinned and took another picture of Dewayne.
Dewayne: “You must love taking pictures... of me!”
Me: “[sarcasm]Yeah, I’m a photographer.”
Dewayne: “I want to see this portfolio of yours…”
Me: “I’ll show you one day.”
Dewayne: “Gimme your phone for a second.”
Me: “Why?”
Dewayne: “I’m not gonna go through [makes a silly face] your stuff-es. Just let me see!”

I gave him my iPhone, but he didn’t know how to work it, “How do you work this confusing shit? Where’s the power button?” I clicked the power switch and slid the slider. He smiled at my wallpaper. It was a picture of me in my mirror, posing. It was so embarrassing how he looked at the picture. I bit my lip and then he started to laugh.
Dewayne: “The picture is cute… quit being shy, girl.”
Me: “I just don’t like how you're looking at the picture, boy.”
Dewayne: “What do I click on for contacts…? I don’t do iPhone’s, I stick with Blackberry’s. You only have one because everyone has one.”
Me: “I had this iPhone when it came out. I’ll be sure to get the iPhone 5 when it comes out. I have a four.”


Dewayne laughed historically and put his hands on his hips, “I’ll be more than sure to get the iPhone 5,” he said mocking me, “when it comes out. You a star ain't you?”
Me: “Shut up.”


He put his number in my phone and we started to walk back towards our cars. Dewayne’s walk started to get flimsy and he was walking like his legs were giving out on him. I couldn’t help but laugh. He put his arm around my neck and looked at me, “Well! It’s starting to get dark, Ms. Mahrie! I’m sure your parents are getting worried about you. C’mon, let’s go.”

I reached my car and he watched me rev my engine and get adjusted. Dewayne is so weird. He made a hand gesture that signified roll your window down for a second before driving away. I rolled my window down, smiling at him.
Me: “What?”
Dewayne: “You’re always so mean to me. You’re lucky I like you a lot, but I’ll be waiting for a text message…”
Me: “Well you’ll be waiting, because I won’t text and drive.”
Dewayne: “[talking through teeth] Then, send the message now.”



I growled at him and searched for his name. I couldn’t find it. I tried Dewayne, Deewayne, Dawayne, Dwayne, and even Dee. I tried.
Me: “I can't find your freakin’ name, Dewayne.”
Dewayne: “Oh really? [beam] Try umm… the ‘F’s’.”
Me: “The F’s? Why would it be in the F’s?”
Dewayne: “I don’t know. Just look there; it’s just a random guess.”


I scrolled to the F section, spooling through the following letter, “Dewayne, where are y—“ Future Hubby?
Me: “Future hubby?”
Dewayne: “I wanted to put like an emoticon or symbol beside my name, but I couldn’t find any on your character list, so I just… left it plain. Haha”
Me: “Wow, that’s cute. Um, you're so…”
Dewayne: “So…?”
Me: “Nothing. I’m sending a message right now.
Dewayne: “Aight, see you later!”
Me: “You too.”
Dewayne: “I better see that message!!!”
Me: “Don’t count on it!!”



Yeah of course I texted him. We talked about nothing. Just using our sarcasm.

I reached home in a matter of minutes. It was about 11:50 p.m., too. My mom and dad were fast asleep, so they didn’t hear me come in; plus, they're on a completely different part of the house. They didn’t even bother to call me as a check-up concern. I’ve given up on their sympathetic care… it’s just the playmate-care and financial-care left. Rushing into my room, I threw my clothes off and took a warm shower.

I wish I could tell people how I feel about communication. I don’t want to be the type of girl that gets caught up, because I've never heard a guy call me pretty, besides my dad, or I've never hung out with a guy. It’s so involuntary how things are turning out.
I didn’t think after today Dewayne would want to hang out again. I’m way more than weird, but it’d like he's okay with it. He’s weird, too, but it’s only because I haven’t really hung out with a guy like him before. He’s not weird; that’s just me. I don’t have friends so this is something new. I haven’t hung out with a guy before.… I’ve never even had friends before. This could be the beginning of a new friendship… or not. I don’t know what to expect from this. I’ll be friends with him, but avoid the committing assumptions. Maybe we’ll be best friends.

College orientation is four days away and my interview with Mr. Willie is tomorrow at 5 ‘o clock. I’m so excited, but I'm so nervous! Dewayne and I are, as presumed, best friends. Well, not exactly “best”, because I don’t know how best friends are supposed to be and he’s just impulsively cool. The things that he says, rushes our friendship and causes us to be cooler and cooler these past two months. Today, I’m going over his house to meet his mom, along with some other family members, eat some good food, and see a hosting. It’s some type of special event for their family and he wants me to participate in it. He says “it’s crucial”, so he wants me to be involved. Speaking of him, he’s calling now. Me: “Yeah?” Dewayne: “What up girl!” Me: “What up, boy?” Dewayne: “You’re still coming over right?” Me: “Yeah, I'm almost ready. I’ll be getting some gas in a few.” Dewayne: “Aight cool, cool. But, hey I’ve got a few problemssss…” Me: “What now?” Dewayne: “Okay first, my mom thinks you’re 18… too so...” Me: “Well then I'm 18!” Dewayne: “Swag! Okay second, any questions my family asks, just say you don’t know or you're not sure. Cool? Me: “What if someone asks me how we met or something like that? You know how older people get.” Dewayne: “Tell ‘em! Just ignore the illogical questions like do you guys go together or if they’re like you guys hang out too much to not be together… ignore that shit.” Me: “[nods and takes bite of Chick-o-stick] Okay. Is that it?” Dewayne: “Um… let me see…….. Oh!! If you start feeling uncomfortable just let me know. We’ll dismiss ourselves and follow me everywhere I go. If not, you will be lost.” Me: “Ooookay.” Dewayne: “Dope! Aight let me know when you’re on your way so I can direct you here.” Me: “Okay. I’ll be on my way soon.” Dewayne: “Okay, okay. Get sexy. This is like an event… Wear heels… Haha” I hung up my phone and smiled. I’ve never heard “get sexy” before. And he doesn’t tell me what to wear… I’m wearing heels anyways. Some suede, sky blue heels with some high-waisted black skinnies, the watch my grandma gave me, a stripped top, little blue earrings and some Chanel perfume! I’m showin’ out now. I even straightened my hair and put a little curl to it. Want to know something odd? For these past two months, my mom or dad hasn’t asked me where I’ve been at all. I leave almost every day and I stay out until like ten. That’s love for ya. But, remember how I said I've given up on their sympathy? Now… I actually have. After my shower, I put on my clothes and finished off my hair and makeup. I wanted something simple, but intricate, so I decided to do soft colors and contour my face with pink. Once I grabbed my phone and took a picture of myself, I snatched my keys and my bag. I take a picture of myself every day. Good or bad; ugly or horrible. The heels I had on were pretty difficult to walk in and I stumbled every now and then, but I had this walking thing down packed. All I have to do is get some sandals or flats to wear when my feet just can't take the heels anymore. Until then, I’m gonna walk in them. I called Dewayne, but he didn’t pick up as I was leaving my house. I was starting to get a little ticked off. Why tell me to call you and you don’t even pick up when I do? Ugh. I have anger issues and this is not going to work. I was just in my car driving around the nowhere. Luckily a gas station popped up and I figured I’d just get some gas. If he didn’t call back in the meantime, I wasn’t going at all. Got me all dressed up and shit. Oh no, I sound like him now. T As soon as I paid for my gas he called me with the sweetest voice. I answered reluctantly while I pumped my gas. Dewayne: “Heyyy.” Me: “What the heck? I called you like 20 times. What the freak, Dewayne?” Dewayne: “Relax, your name wasn’t on the list. I had to fuss with the damn guard to put your name on it.” Me: “Oh… Sorry.” I didn’t know that part… My rage inseparably dissolved. Dewayne: “So you ready?” Me: “Of course! That’s why I called you!” Dewayne: “Okay where are you right now?” Me: “I’m at the gas station… near Starbucks and Krispy Kreme.” Dewayne: “Well that’s great because I don’t know where you are. You’ve got a GPS on that iPhone of yours don’t you?” Me: “Yes I do. Give me the freakin’ address so I can get there.” Dewayne: “[sarcasm] Yeah because you're already late. It’s uh…. Hold up.” A lot of commotion and rattling went on in the background and I suddenly, out of nowhere, heard awfully loud classical ball music start playing and noisy crowds chattering. What is going on? I paid attention to Dewayne’s deep voice and noticed he laughed aloud while putting his ear back against his phone, “[continuing to laugh] … and stuff like that, so I just forgot about it all together. Hahaha but yeah… I guess I’ll see you a little later, babe… Tahaaha yes, of course I can…. Alright, then… O-okay. H-hello?” What the freak? Me: “Um… yeah—the address?” My rage came back effortlessly. I was starting to get aggravated by Dewayne and that’s something unfamiliar. He never does this ignoring stuff. He’s usually the most courteous and generous guy ever—always asking if I need help and asking if I need anything. Right now he’s ecstatically smug and doesn’t even notice it. I’m not asking for all of his attention, but he shouldn’t have spoiled me with it. Dewayne: “The address? Oh, oh yeah! 410 W Marino Drive… 33139, you know… Miami Beach all of that stuff.” Me: “Okay, great. I guess I‘ll call you if I die. Bye.” Dewayne: “Wait, wait, wait, wait. Are you aight?” Me: “I’m fine. I’ll be there in a second. Now, I have to hang up to put the address in my freakin’ phone.” Dewayne: “What the f? You’re absolutely mad?” Me: “No!!” Dewayne: Yes the hell you are ‘cause you only say freakin’ when you’re mad, Mahrie.” Me: “Dewayne, I’m hanging up.” Dewayne: “[agitated] Shit, no Mahrie, come on…” I hung up and paused before putting the address into my phone. Why am I thoughtlessly emotional about this? My body became weaker and I didn’t feel the need to even go to this even anymore. I began inserting the address into my GPS, but was interrupted by a message: Dewayne: Please call me back Mahrie… I don’t like you being upset I ignored the text while entering the address. My whole drive there was emotionless and dry…

The house was enormous and lit up with the outrageously redundant lightening. The whole neighborhood was filled with mansions. Mansions bigger than the mansion the event was held at. When I arrived, there weren’t tons of people entering, or people standing about… the house looked empty. The only way you could tell there was an event was the fact that the village garages had tons of expensive cars. That’s silly; the garage gave away the “event” entitlement. What type of rich cat is sitting on the throne in this neighborhood?

I pulled into the first village garage for parking, but noticed two signs saying “event parking $30”. I have to pay for parking, too? First of all, Dewayne didn’t tell me about this event parking which is thirty freakin’ dollars. Shoot, shoot, shoot!!! I don’t have any money on me except my card!!!!!! I snarled in fury. HOW CAN THIS NIGHT GET ANY WORSE!?!?

The guy in the stand podium-thingy looked too young to be a ticket-giver. He’s most likely a soon to be senior in college or a fresh sophomore. He wore a fluorescent lime green shirt and had a snapped cap halfway on his head. He’s nowhere near the average guy, but he’s not the overwhelmingly breathtaking type of guy either. He sat in his chair fidgeting with some papers and chewing his gum harder than a cow chewing grass. The Podium Guy looked at me and knew how I was feeling—Angry and Frustrated. I rolled my window down, leisurely and weakly grinned at him. I didn’t want to speak to him no more than I would have to speak to anyone inside of the event. My throat was a little dry anyways. I spoke, but didn’t look at his face.
Podium Guy: “How are you today, Miss?”
Me: “I don’t even know anymore.”
Podium Guy: “You don’t know? How can you not know?”
Me: “I don’t know.”
Podium Guy: “Aren't you a little too young to be at this event? Which event are you going to anyway?”


I snatched my attention to his face so suddenly and grew angry, “You don’t even know me. So believing the fact that you don’t, you can't say I'm too young. Aren't you too young to be working as a garage clerk?” He laughed and started chewing his gum even harder.
“You're real cute Miss Little Lady,” He laughed again but leaned outward from his window and stared me in my eyes, “See… I’m a grown ass man. I took this job to get a fat ass check tomorrow morning, also known as a quick job. It’s a nippy $2,500 in the a.m. I also have school and two other jobs. But, I don’t think you'd know a damn thing about working hard. Now, could I be wrong?”
What the freak? What is this a set up? He’s a smart aleck. Trying to send me into spiraling depression. I ought to tell him about his demeanor. Telling people about their demeanor can turn them outward and reflect on their dubious character……. I sat with my mouth open so it looked like he won. I’m lost for words.
Podium Guy: “Don’t have thirty dollars, do ya?”
Me: “………………………..Uh… Um… I um… No. N-no, I don’t.”
PG: “My point proven. Have a nice day Miss Little Lady.”


I keep stuttering. I’m all lost for words. But he’s letting me go for free…
Me: “W-what about the thirty dollars?”
PG: “What about it?”
Me: “The sign says ‘event parking $30’”
PG: “You're good to go. You’re alright.”
Me: “But that’s a deduction from your morning check. You won't get a 2500 dollar check if you remain letting people pass without pay. You'll only get 2470.”
PG: “You're the only one that has a problem tonight. You wanna pay the thirty dollars when you don’t have it?
Me: “Well, no. Of course not, but—“
PG: “Have a good day ma’am!”


I smiled and drove into the fancy garage. I parked and walked past the Podium Guy and grinned again, “Thanks” was all I managed to shout as I headed towards the mansion, merely stumbling. I faintly heard him chuckling. My phone made a beeping noise, which meant it was dead, inside of my bag and it started my anger all over again.
When I arrived at the superfluously designed door, two thin white men stood cackling and giggling about some business-like epidemic. One had a large forehead and the other had on an awfully patterned suit. I waited for one of them to turn their brainless heads my direction, but neither of them did. I waited, and waited a little longer but I just couldn’t take it anymore. Little Mahrie has a big temper.
Me: “Excuse me?”
Large-Forehead: “… Was really ticked when I said that so I just shut my trap.”
Awful-Suit: “Oh my. Lisa did the same to me, but this time she wrapped the gift in cheap dollar store—“
Me: “Excuse me!?
Awful-Suit: “and I— Can I help you?“
Me: “Yes. Yes, you can. I’m here for the event.”
Large-Forehead: “What?”
Me: “I’m here for the event.”
A-S: “Well, you can't go in.”
Me: “[talking through teeth] Why can't I?”
L-F: “You just can't enter Missy.”
Me: “Are you serious?”
L-F: “Dead serious!.”
A-S: “Yep. You should’ve been on time to the event. You’re extra late. Almost three hours. It’s over now.”
Me: “You a**holes! I freaking know that I’m late. Just check me of on the list so that I won't be any later! Please!”
L-F: “Excuse me?”
A-S: “No, I heard her. I’m calling security.”
Me: “Oh my god. This is not real at all. This is a joke. This is notttt real!”
L-F: “Oh it’s real. And it’s time you reel your behind out of here.”

……………………………OH MY GOD!!!! WHAT THE FREAAAAAK!!!!!!!!!! Is this really necessary!?!?! I’m not doing anything and now they're calling security. Is it because I look like a ten year old? Ergh!!! JERKS!!!!!!!!!!!!
Two stupid security guards came out and tried escorting me off of the house’s premises, but I argued them off of me and started crying. My makeup was ruined, I had to take off my stupid freakin’ heels, and I was all alone. I sat on the steps where the two buttholes couldn’t see me. I was no longer mad or upset or filled with rage and fury. I was sad, depressed, fed-up and exceptionally miserable. Tonight was supposed to be fun. Well, so I thought. Dewayne hasn’t even called me once and it’s been hours since we talked. I guess it’s time to view the negatives and worsen my gloominess. I sat crying hopelessly and smudged my makeup even more as I tried wiping away me tears and talking to myself aloud.
Me: “My mom and dad haven’t called, Dee hasn’t called, I'm going to college but I won't have any friends there. I’m a loner, I look like a freakin’ little girl, I’m hungry as freak, I’m tired as freak. My freakin’ interview is tomorrow and I'm not ready for it. I’m just so stupid.”


I looked into my bag and looked for my flats, but noticed I didn’t bring them. Instead, I pulled out a Chick-o-Stick and began munching on it. Of course I continued to wallop in depression aloud because I was a loner.
Me: “I came to this stupid freakin’ event for nothing, got dressed up for nothing, and wasted gas for nothing. I should’ve just stayed home and ate Chick-o-Sticks all day and remained a nothing.”


A crack of thunder eased in from the East followed by lightening. And now it’s about to rain, now. I’m just gonna go home and sleep. Rain started to fall down, hard. I grabbed my heels, bag, and lifted myself up. I started walking towards the garage and was completely wet. AWESOME, DUDE!!!!

I roamed past the Podium Guy barefoot and drenched. He stared at me worried-like, but didn’t know what to say. He still spoke, though. “Hey! Hey!” he walked out of his podium and watched me, “Do you need some help?” …Hmm let me see. I’m drenched, barefoot and I didn’t get to go into the event. Of course not.
Me: “No, I'm fine.”
PG: “No you're not. You don’t have on any shoes and you're soaking wet.”
Me: “I think I know that.”

He stood beside his podium searching for more words to say, but I walked past him blinking constantly. I already knew my make up was draining down my face and causing my eyes to burn. Life was really great right now. Really. I made it to my car and started digging in my bag for my keys, but guess what? I left my freakin’ keys in my cup holder. IN THE FREAKIN’ CUP HOLDER! ………………………………………………………………………………………… I give up on life. I really do. But it’s okay because WHAT AM I GONNA DO!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! HOW AM I FONNA GET HOME! HUH????? HUH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I snarled and screamed so that I felt it echo miles away. I don’t even want to go over the negatives anymore; it’ll make me want to commit suicide. The negatives are so bad that I'm thinking positive. I just trying to ignore the bad things occurring—dish ‘em off and find another way.

I paced back and forth beside my car but couldn’t come up with a strategy I just couldn’t. My brain was completely empty. How am I gonna get home? Really. How was I gonna get home? Home is the only place that I would’ve found an ounce of relief. Now that I can't get there like I hoped, I’ve lost all hope. This is terrr-rific!

Waltzing back towards the mansion, I was stopped by the Podium Guy once again.
PG: “Miss! Miss!”



I continued walking. I didn’t have time for unreasonable things. But he kept on shouting. I heard him open the stand’s door and continue yelling Miss. Then he switched it up a little bit, “So I have to go in the rain after you!?” I remained walking in the rain, but was loudly yelling, “I don’t need you doing anything for me. I can handle myself!”
PG: “Well I do believe that, but I just sat and watched you cry on the steps and now I'm pretty sure something is wrong with your car!!”

Right then is when I stopped walking and turned his way. The rain was pouring down on me and I looked at him soaked, blinking nonstop.
PG: “I'm right aren’t I!?”
Me “What help can you provide!?”
PG: “I don’t know, but if you just come over here and get out of the RAIN then I can try to provide some options!!”


I still stood in the rain unsure of what to do. What else can go wrong? I didn’t see the guards standing by the front of the house anymore, so I wanted to risk trying again or at least standing under some shade by the house. The garage also offered shade… without trouble or hassles… I twisted back towards the house and heard him shout, “Please” with the most solemn voice I have ever heard. Turning back around, I roamed in the direction of the stand and where the Podium Guy was standing. It was the weirdest thing I’ve encountered, but I'm a weird girl. I can take it.

As I made it to him, I looked around waiting for his options, “So, how can I get home?” I drained my soaked hair as we spoke.
PG: “Well whats wrong with your car?”
Me: “I’m locked out. Left my keys in the cup holder.”
PG: “How awesome. Um… No windows left down?”
Me: “Nope.”
PG: “Ahh… [wipes face] Let me get you dried off. Come in here.”
Me: “What? What’s in there?”
PG: “It’s a chill room when you’re tired of the stand.”
Me: “Just say a break room; I'm not stupid.”
PG: “Sorry… It’s a damn break room.”
Me: “[smile] What type of garage has a break room?”
PG: “It’s the wealthy side of the town. There are tons of things you’d never expect to be here. Come on.”