The night before I took the SATs I was crouching in a wooded backyard, hoping my town's cops wouldn't find me and my other two, underage friends there. This was our first invite to a "cool" party, one where there were older guys and drinking, so SATs be damned, we went. The guys were part of the punk rock group at school, ones we vaguely new, but mostly admired from afar. This was our chance to "meet new people."
Once we got there, the party was pretty lame. Mostly people standing around in a crowded, finished basement, holding the tell-tale red plastic cups full of cheap beer, punk rock music screaming in the background. My friends and I still felt cool just to be there. Our friend Sara had gotten us the invite, and we watched as she easily mingled with these guys she knew well. She walked RIGHT UP to Mike L. and just TALKED to him. Inwardly, my heart sighed at her bravery while outwardly I smirked with a "I'm-so-cool-to-be-here-that-I-don't-have-to-talk-to-anyone-else" look on my face, while hoping someone would come talk to ME. Please please please, someone bridge the unbearable silent gulf!! I stole a peek at Nick L. and he glanced my way, so I quickly looked back into my cup as though reading some message of the future in the carbonation.
We were all standing around when the host of the party came in to the room and turned off the music. He announced that the cops were outside and they might want to come in and see what was going on. My two friends and I looked at each other, shock and horror glistening in our eyes. Oh my goodness, oh my goodness! It's like someone immediately hit the panic button in our heads because we all moved as one. We ran up the stairs to the kitchen, gaggled around saying 'What do we do? What do we do?' for about ten seconds before one of us convinced the others that running into the woods to hide was the best idea. There we were, crouching in the woods, no jackets or warm attire on as we had acted impulsively. I remember being the goody two shoes in the group, saying something dramatic like, "I don't want to get caught! We're taking the SATs tomorrow and we're in the honor society! What will my parents say? We probably won't graduate!!" The ten or twenty minutes we sat there, shivering in the dark, seemed like eternity.
My memory gets fuzzy here so I can't remember if someone came to get us, or if we just decided we'd waited long enough to safely come out. Either way, we went back into the basement to say good-bye before leaving. Everyone was still there, standing where we'd left them, holding their red plastic cups, punk rock music screaming in the background. The host wore a look of relief upon seeing us. He said he'd wondered why we ran off. The cops never even came inside. The three of us looked at each other, the panic gone as if it had never existed, and we commenced a three way version of our terrible run from the cops.
The next day, after about three hours or less of sleep, I took my SATs. Months later my score came back above average.
you are, my dear, way above average :) This was a cute story, who was the host of said event? I'm just curious :)
ReplyDeleteLove this! This so inspires me to write about my "running from the cops story". So don't be mad if I steal it, I'll give you props.
ReplyDeleteI know how it felt to feel cool too. We definitely would have been friends in high school.