High School Sweetheart Part 3 Of 4 free porn video

High School Sweetheart Chapter 3 By Lauren Bliss It was prom night, and I was ecstatic. I was dressed in a pink, strapless, diaphanous gown that fell to mid thigh. The bodice clung to my developing curves, but the neckline was high enough to remain tasteful. My opera length gloves fit snugly around my arms. I wore my mother's pearls, and carried a small drawstring purse, while I paced nervously around our living room. Ela was there, dressed similarly. We stood for photos while our mothers beamed proudly. I felt beautiful, but was extremely nervous for some reason. Was I going to get stood up? Imagine going through all this trouble, only to have your date never arrive. I checked my hair in the mirror for the hundredth time, and still, not a single strand was out of place. My lipstick was perfect. I couldn't find a single thing wrong, but I couldn't shake the pervasive uneasiness that penetrated my very being. I heard rapping at the door. For a moment my tension eased. Confidently, I strode to the entryway, and turned the knob to welcome our companions for the evening. Instead, I saw my father, blood pouring down his face, with an empty expression. I awoke in a cold sweat. Ela was sitting at the foot of my bed, with her hand on my leg. She already had her hair up in rollers, still wearing one of her nightgowns, but had foregone the dressing gown this particular morning. "Time to get up, sleepyhead. It's already seven." "I thought their game started at nine," I bemoaned, burying my face under my pillows. "That is true, but you went to bed last night without taking off your makeup, or setting your hair. We've got a lot of work to do. On top of all that Mom's only working a half day today, so unless you want to have a conversation with her about your outfit, I suggest you get up. Don't forget, Missy, this was all your idea." Ela pulled the covers off of me, revealing my date outfit from the night before. I don't know how I ever managed to sleep in that crinoline. It was so stiff and scratchy. Ela unzipped my dress, and handed me the same dressing gown I'd worn the day before. After she left the room, I stripped down to my underwear, and threw on the gown. Following her instructions, I went to the bathroom, and used her cold cream to remove the smudged mess that was the corpse of the previous night's makeup. Through foggy eyes, I examined my reflection in the mirror while I brushed my teeth. My hair was a wreck. The ponytail hairpiece was left on my bed. Even without it, my hair still held that girlish wave, and did nothing to detract from my feminine appearance. Ela left a set of clean undergarments in the bathroom for me, and when I left, I was wearing a new mint green bra and panty set, and a matching camisole. In Ela's room she'd already tossed several outfits on the bed. By then, she was already dressed in a long-sleeved black and white, checkered, button-down blouse, and a gray, knee-length pencil skirt. Still barefoot, she held several pieces up to my body, weighing the virtues, and detriments of each combination. She settled on a short-sleeved, white button-down, with a little pointed collar, and a sky blue circle skirt. I dressed in a half slip, and crinoline, then the outfit she'd decided on, and once again, I sat at her vanity table. She instructed me to just use a light dusting of powder, a soft eyeshadow with natural eyeliner, mascara, and soft, neutral, pink lips. She did the same for herself, and after brushing out her set into a stylish pageboy, she worked her magic on me, and once again, I wore a perky ponytail, curling smoothly into a little spiral at the tip. After donning a pair of bobby socks, and lacing up a black and white pair of saddle shoes, I was ready for a day out and about. Ela teased, "Is this style to your liking, mademoiselle?" I retorted, sarcasm dripping from every word, "My bangs aren't as fluffy as yesterday, but it'll do." "Don't get huffy with me. I'm not the one who wanted to get up and make myself pretty for my steady's baseball game." "I don't care about my steady's baseball game. I care about seeing our Brooklyn Dodgers cream the Cincinnati Redlegs at Ebbets Field tonight. This getup, and Andy's game are a means to an end. Also, shut up! He's not my steady!" Ela pursed her lips, crossed her arms, and tapped her foot impatiently. "I'm disappointed with you, Marion. Andy seems like a nice boy. It doesn't seem right, you taking advantage of him like this. I have half a mind to stay home, and let you go out there on your own." "Can you still see me from all the way up there on your high horse? You're one to talk, Ela. This whole thing was your idea. And don't act like you aren't champing at the bit to see Archie again. I don't know what you see in that idiot." "First of all, that idiot, as you called him, is incredibly kind. I've never heard him say a cross word about anybody. Second, I wanted you to go on one date, and then let the boy down gently. Girls do that kind of thing for each other all the time. I wasn't asking a lot." "Except I'm not a girl, Ela!" I clenched my fist tightly. My face flushed red. I screamed, "You always treat me like one of your girlfriends, when I'm not! I'm a boy! You play with my hair, and put makeup on me, and gossip about boys, and you act like it's the most normal thing in the world! Well, it's not! Now, the one time I decide to go along with it, you act like I'm the one being crazy!" With tears streaming down her face, Ela shouted back, "Why wouldn't I treat you like a girl, when Archie and every other boy I know are twice the man you are!? If you want to go to that stupid game, you're going to have to do it without me! Get out of my room...now, Marion!" She pointed to the door. I'm surprised steam didn't come out of her ears. My insides were shredded, cut to pieces by her words. I grabbed the purse off her dresser, and walked out into the living room. She slammed the door behind me. I sat on the couch in silence, crossing my legs at the knee. At first, I didn't even notice the girlish manner of my posture. Ela's words stung; probably more than she intended. Was I really only half a man? I certainly didn't look like one, and it was entirely my choice this time. I thought about my father again. Everytime I did, the emotional pain was unbearable. Unable to let myself contemplate the deeper meaning of my behavior, I steadied my resolve, and left the couch. I made it all the way to the door, and even got my fingertips on the doorknob before I froze in a panic, unable to go any further. I just couldn't get the courage together, so I went back to Ela's bedroom door, and knocked softly. "Ela, I can't do this without you. I really need you right now." No answer. I tapped a few times with the tips of my fingernails, and tried again. "Ela, please. I'm sorry. Come out, and we can talk about it." Still nothing. Not a peep. I realized then, that I'd have to pull out my big gun. "Ela, I'm using my no questions asked. I need you to go with me." I heard her rustling around in there, and after a few minutes, the door opened. Her makeup was fixed, and she had her purse slung over her shoulder. "You're lucky I pinky promised. I'm going with you, but that doesn't mean I'm talking to you." I wanted to apologize over and over again, but her withering glare said, "Proceed with caution." Since we were running low on time, I kept my mouth shut. Ela wrote a short note for her Mom, and we made it out the door with fifteen minutes to spare. We hopped the trolley across town. It was standing room only, as it often was on the weekends. I had resigned myself to hanging onto the loop, and hoping for the best, when two young men rose from their seats, and offered them to us. I stood there like a confused imbecile, wondering what they were doing, when Ela thanked them politely, and sat, pulling me down next to her. A few people were staring at this point, so I smiled politely, and mouthed thank you. I remember feeling as though I was under the microscope of every passerby, but in reality, everyone that looked was probably thinking either lewd, or romantic thoughts. We arrived at our stop, and the seas parted when Ela, and I stood up. The last time I'd taken a trolley, I had to fight my way off, and even then, wound up riding for an extra stop. A person could get used to such a thing, and that thought scared me. We had to walk a few extra blocks to get to the park. I'd come to one of my brother's games on this side of town once. In our old neighborhood they played in what basically amounted to a sandlot between a few buildings. Here, there was actual grass on the field. The lines were freshly marked, and there were actual bleachers for people to sit on while they watched. Some people think the sign of a prosperous neighborhood is a good school, or fancy restaurants, or even how many cars are parked on the road. To me, the answer lies in how nice your ballfield is. "I'm famished." Ela said curtly, nodding towards a hotdog cart on the corner. "I'm still not talking to you, but you're buying." I opened my purse to see she'd stuffed the money her mom had left us in it, as well as some makeup to repair my face for when the occasion arose. We still had plenty of time to kill, so we ordered our food, and walked around the park. I finished the hotdog in less than ladylike time, so while I was waiting on Ela, I took off my shoes and socks, and walked around the grass barefoot. Ever since I was a child, I loved the feeling of running barefoot through a field. It was something I rarely had the opportunity to experience. Anytime I could, I took full advantage. "Ela!" Archie's voice came ringing out across the park. In the distance, we saw him approaching with two feminine silhouettes. It was when they got close enough to see their faces that I truly started to panic. On his right was an older woman that I was not yet familiar with, but on his left was his sister, Eileen Connolly. In high school, I was invisible to Archie. He never noticed me, and he never had a reason to, but Eileen was a different story. On the social ladder, she was several rungs above me, so we had never spoken, but we were in the same homeroom all the way through middle school. I didn't know her very well, but one thing I did know was that girl had a mouth on her. Archie had dropped out of high school to work at his family's new butcher shop but Eileen was a different story. Not only did we go to the same school before the accident, but we'd be going to the same new school next week. If she knew who I was, it was going to be a real problem. If Ela was Betty, then Eileen was Veronica. She was as sexy as a girl was allowed to be back then. We shared the same flaming red hair, though the similarities ended there. Her curly, chin length bob featured a deep side part with the front lifting high off her scalp, and swooping back down to the side. Unless school was in session, she was wearing deep red lipstick, and a pencil skirt two fingers short of being modest. "Ela!" she squealed, embracing her as girls do when greeting each other. "That's twice in one week I've seen you outside of school. This must be some kind of record. When I heard you were going on a date with my brother, I was ecstatic. He's had a crush on you forever." Archie turned six different shades of red. "Shut up Sis, she doesn't need to hear all that." Eileen turned her attention to me, and offered her hand politely. "Is this what you did with my hairpiece?" I shook her hand awkwardly, and stuttered, "Hello. I'm umm...Marion. Nice to meet you. Thanks for umm...letting Ela borrow the ponytail. I cut my hair off umm a while ago, and I wanted to see what it looked like before I grew it...back out that is." "Right," she said, raising an eyebrow to my clumsy response. "You must be the Marion Andy's been going on about all morning. It's lovely to uhh...meet you." Her expression was inscrutable. "Well, I think your hair looks lovely, dear," the older woman said, reminding me of her presence. "I'm sure it looks lovely short as well. I'd imagine you look just as lovely with your hair in curlers." She offered her hand, and said, "I'm Edith Barclay; Andy's Mother. Nice to meet you." I shook her hand in return, nearly frozen. I managed to squeak out, "Nice to meet you Mrs. Barclay. Sorry, I feel a bit out of place standing here with no shoes on. If you'll excuse me." I hurried to find a seat, and slid my socks on. Mrs. Barclay giggled to herself, and said, "No need for embarrassment dear. Be young and carefree while you can. She was obviously a woman of privilege, in a nice floral print dress that perfectly matched her jacket that perfectly matched her pillbox hat, that perfectly matched her gloves. Some people say that a matchy matchy outfit is one of the worst fashion sins a person can commit. This woman was living proof that it could be done well. "What brings you to the park, Eileen?" Ela asked. She was just as surprised to see her, as I was. Eileen replied, "Do you remember that boy I told you I was going steady with. That's Jimmy...Andy's brother. We met through Andy actually. He took me to prom last year, remember." "I remember Andy saying something about a brother last night. I had no idea, they were one in the same. They must be about the same age. "Only separated by an hour," Mrs. Barclay interjected. "Speaking of my beautiful babies, they should be starting soon. Shall we?" I had just managed to finish tying my laces, so I hurried along behind everyone else walking to the bleachers. The stands were about as crowded as you would expect a Saturday afternoon baseball game to be, so we had no trouble finding an area where we could all sit together. Ela was still pretty irked, so I found myself sandwiched between Mrs. Barclay, and Eileen. I could see Andy tossing a ball back and forth with another boy, who I assumed was his brother. They had a similar facial structure, though the other boy was a few inches taller, and his hair cut in the same close cropped style that nearly every boy our age had, but it was a dirty blonde, slightly lighter than Andy's brunette locks. I thought they looked spiffy in their baseball knickers, garments that always seemed out of place when I tried to wear them. From out of nowhere, far more raucous than I could have ever imagined her being, Mrs. Barclay yelled, "Let's go Sharks!" The designated time arrived, and the game was underway. At the top of the first inning the Sharks were defending. I could infer from the exuberant cheers of Mrs. Barclay, the pitcher was her husband. He certainly had the same dapper countenance as his children, but more wisened. He threw the first pitch, a fastball, and the umpire cried, "Strike!" Pitch number two, and again, "Strike!" There were only a couple dozen people watching this game, but when he threw the third strike, you'd have thought they had just won the world series. I'll say this about Brooklyn. It doesn't matter how old you are, how much money you have, or where your family came from. We're going to tell you how we feel. The top of the first was finished, and Mr Barclay had performed well. He struck out another poor kid, and their shortstop caught a line drive for the third out. It was time for the Sharks to swing for the fences, and the crowd was even more amped up. It was hard not to get swept up into the commotion. Andy was at bat first. He approached the plate, and tapped the dust off his cleats. He readied his bat. The first pitch was thrown. There was no swing, since the pitch was wide right, but the umpire shouted, "Strike!" getting my blood heated. "That's bull, Ump! You couldn't call a cab!" Swept up in the excitement, I'd forgotten to act as the demure young thing I appeared to be. I realized my error, and turned to Mrs. Barclay, expecting at best a dirty judgmental look, but was shocked to instead see her standing next to me, echoing my sentiments. "How'd you get a square head in that round mask?" she shouted, playfully nudging my shoulder. The next pitch beamed Andy straight in the arm, and you could have probably heard the boos six blocks down the road. Andy kept his composure, but I could see the fury in his expression. I imagine if he could have gotten away with it, he would have charged the mound, and decked that pitcher. Two batters later, and the other team had managed to walk one. Jimmy stepped up to bat, eliciting cheers from the ladies on both sides of me. It was the most animated I think I'd ever seen Eileen. Again, the pitch was wide right, again the umpire called "Strike", and again we all voiced our displeasure. The second pitch came, and it was obviously wide, but this time Jimmy swung the bat. Not only that, he swung for the fences. One homerun later, and the Sharks were up by three. Mrs. Barclay, Eileen, and I were jumping up and down with glee. Meanwhile, Archie, and Ela couldn't be bothered. The two were stuck staring into each other's eyes like lovestruck puppies. The game continued, and over the next eight innings, the opposing team had managed to scrape together four runs, and the Sharks just couldn't seem to cross home again. It was the bottom of the ninth, and Andy was at bat; with three balls, two strikes, and two outs on the board. The pitch came, and this one was straight across the plate. Andy swung big, and hit a fly ball right up the middle. It was going, and the small crowd were on the edge of their seats. He started slowly trotting down to first base, never taking his eye off the ball. We all hoped that it was going to make it, but alas, it was short by about ten feet, and landed straight in the center fielder's glove. Everyone in attendance let out a collective sigh of disappointment, but applauded his efforts nonetheless. We all made our way down to the field, while the two teams shook hands. The only person mad at Andy was Andy. "I really screwed that one up." He took off his hat, and threw it down on the ground. I half expected his dad to agree with him, but instead I was pleasantly surprised by his response. "That's enough of that, son. You did your best, and that's all anyone can ask for. You boys played well today, and I'm proud of you both." I didn't know that was even a valid response from a sports dad. I'd only ever seen a man terrorize his children for their failures. "You played better than I ever could," I offered, trying to comfort him. His frown instantly turned upside down, and he said, "My one consolation is that I'm blessed with the presence of such a beautiful maiden." Even in defeat, he was a cornball. "Shut up, nerd." his brother said in jest, pushing him playfully from behind. "Be nice, Jimmy," Eileen said, admonishing him. Eileen stood on her tiptoes, and gave him a pleasant peck on the cheek. "You must be the Marion I've been hearing so much about," Mr Barclay said, turning his attention to me. "I'm glad you'll be joining us tonight. It'll give us a chance to get to know each other. Did you have any trouble getting here today?" I shook his hand politely. "No sir. My brother played a few games over here several years ago. Thank you for having me this evening. I'm very excited." "I saw you in the stands cheering for my boy. Always wonderful to meet another real baseball fan. You'll find no shortage of those in our home. Now, we'll be needing a shower, and a change of clothes. Can't wear these knickers all day after all." "I didn't think about that," Andy said, realizing his error. "You girls aren't going to want to sit in our living room, and wait around while we get cleaned up." "Really, it's no big deal," I said, waving off their concerns. "We'll have Archie to entertain us." "They could come to the salon with us, Mrs. Barclay," Eileen offered, eyeing me up and down. "Marion here was just talking about needing a new hairdo while she grows her hair out. Why not today?" "That's a wonderful idea!" Mrs. Barclay exclaimed. I froze solid when I realized just what they were proposing. I tried to come up with a plausible reason not to, but my brain had stopped working. Ela took pity on me, and for the first time since our blow up, started trying to save me from my decisions. "We can't do that, Mrs. Barclay." Whispering, she said, "We can't really afford it, right now." "Nonsense!" Mrs. Barclay was having none of it. "It's my treat, of course. I live in a house full of boys. I never had a daughter to shower with the gifts a mother has to offer. I take every opportunity to share those pleasures with Eileen here when I can. Today I'll just have three surrogate daughters instead of one." "It's decided then!" Eileen took me by the hand, and the four of us were off, leaving four silent men behind us. I think they all knew better than to argue with Mrs Barclay. At the time, I got the impression that she was the true head of household. I didn't know exactly what to expect as we walked out of the park. It certainly wasn't a man in a black uniform, and cap holding open the back door of a shiny new car. I didn't know a lot about cars back then. To be honest, I still don't really know anything about cars now, but I can say with one-hundred percent certainty that that Chrysler was the most expensive car I'd ever seen at that point, let alone ridden in. Eileen, Ela, and I piled in the back seat, with me in the middle, while Mrs. Barclay rode up front with her driver. Once our journey began, Ela leaned over, and whispered into my ear, "When the hairdresser sees your hairpiece, just tell them you were sick. They won't ask too many questions, if they're polite. Just let them know you're growing it out, and they shouldn't do too much. At the time, I thought Eileen was lost in her thoughts, but I was about to find out that she was listening intently, and forming a plan. After arriving at the salon, we didn't have to wait. Even with the two extra customers, the manager happily made room for us. I felt bad for whoever we bumped. Mrs. Barclay, and Ela were taken to one side of the salon, while Eileen and I were taken to the other, and seated right next to each other. A beautician, whose name I cannot remember, introduced herself to us, and asked what services we were interested in, while fastening plastic capes around our necks to protect our clothes. Before I even had the opportunity to speak, Eileen answered for both of us. "For me personally, I just need a trim, and a fresh perm. Why fix what's not broken? Marion here has been very sick for a while though. She's on the mend now, but her hair is still very short. She's been wearing my hairpiece to cover it up, but I've been telling her short styles are in right now. All she needs is a new perm, set, and comb-out, and she's a brand new girl. Isn't that right, Marion? Is there a reason you don't want a new do, for free on top of everything else." I fumbled to find any response at all that didn't end up with me going home looking like Lucille Ball, but nothing came to mind. I found myself nodding along, agreeing with whatever Eileen said, but inside, I was screaming for help at the top of my lungs. The beautician, with her bouffant hairdo, removed the hairpiece, and left my hair to fall down framing my face. She took us to the hair washing station, and gave us both a thorough shampoo. With our damp tresses, we found our way back to our chairs. Her expert hands wound up my hair in a classic setting pattern, starting with a row of perm rods and wax paper rolled backwards away from my face going from my forehead all the way back to my neck. From there, she rolled several rows down the sides, and then several more rows down the back, only leaving my bangs loose when all was said and done. Just as quickly, she did the same with Eileen. The next step in the process was adding the perm solution. It was cold, but that wasn't the worst part. The odor was so pungent that it burned in the back of my nose. I had a new level of respect for the effort girls had to put into their appearance. It was only the start of my first perm, and I was already ready for the process to be over. After both Eileen and I were thoroughly saturated, we were taken to the dryer station, and left there for about twenty minutes. I tried several times to ask Eileen why she told them all that stuff, but she either couldn't hear me, or just plain refused to acknowledge that she did. Back at the hair washing station, a cold neutralizing solution was poured over our perm rods, and left to do its magic. Once that had processed, the solution was rinsed, and we were taken back to the salon chairs, where she expertly snipped away at both mine and Eileen's styles. Eileen's hair was simple, since all she did was clean up the ends. For me on the other hand, the beautician took her time, snipping away at my split ends, and then cutting in the clean lines of my style. Once she was satisfied she rolled both of us up in curlers, and it was back to the dryer for another thirty minutes. I was okay for about five minutes, and then the boredom crept in. I'd had enough of that for a lifetime, so I found an issue of Cosmopolitan on a little table between me and the next station. Surprisingly, I was so enthralled by an article on the coming fall fashion trends, that when the beautician came to collect us, I carried the magazine with me, so I could finish. Eileen's hair was brushed out first. She had the same style she walked through the door with, but marginally shorter, and much fluffier. For me, there were a lot of brush strokes to smooth the curl together, a lot of teasing to give it height, and a lot of hairspray to hold everything in place. I was the proud owner of a short bouffant style. It swept back away from my face, floating two inches above my scalp, while the bangs were parted deep on the right, falling halfway between my hairline, and my eyebrows. The short bubble of wavy hair was cropped close to the back of my neck, and the sides fell just short of my earlobes. One thing I was certain of, was that despite its length, this style could no longer be combed into anything remotely masculine. Eileen was effusive with her praise. "That coiffure is so you, Marion. It's to die for. To think, you walked in here with a year's worth of neglect, and now you're just as pretty as a picture." "Thanks," I muttered, frozen, staring into my reflection. How was I going to explain this to my mother? How was I going to get rid of it? Was I going to have to shave my head? A million questions raced through my mind, only quelled when Ela shrieked, "Oh my god, Marion! What have they done to you!?" I turned to see Ela, her pageboy bleached into a bright blonde. "Doesn't she look lovely?" Eileen asked, grinning from ear to ear. Mrs. Barclay came around the corner, her hair up in a fresh set poodle updo. "I'll say she does. Short hair really suits you Marion." "Thank you," I said, hoping not to appear rude. "Alright girls, collect your things. I'll pay the tab, and then we're going on a little shopping excursion before we meet the boys." Another short car ride later, and we had pulled up to the doors of Abraham & Straus. The sheer immensity of the building was daunting. Five stories on a city block, filled with clothes, homegoods, and all the knicknacks and bobbles one could imagine. Once inside, Mrs. Barclay had arranged for us all to meet with a tailor to get measured for our new outfits. Apparently, she and Eileen had plans to purchase new suits. They were to attend some upcoming event for the Junior League, so Ela, and I were conscripted into the hunt for the perfect attire. I didn't understand why I'd need a new outfit, but Mrs. Barclay was quite insistent. After the gentleman took my measurements, I wandered around the department, hoping that I looked like I was supposed to be there. I strolled from mannequin to mannequin, not sure exactly what I was looking for. Suddenly, as though by fate itself, I came upon a bust wearing a gingham ensemble that, even with my reluctant mindset, I had to admit was delightfully precious. I couldn't take my eyes off of the display. "It's lovely, isn't it?" Mrs. Barclay had snuck up beside me. I jumped at the sound of her voice. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." "That's okay, ma'am. I was just admiring the print. It's certainly nicer than anything I've ever owned." She snapped her fingers, getting the attention of the nearby clerk, and pointed to the display. "She'll take everything on this mannequin, Javier." "Ma'am, that's too much." I waved my arms, blushing at the embarrassment of riches being thrust upon me. Especially considering it's an outfit I wasn't supposed to want in the first place. "Nonsense. I understand you were sick for a while. It sounds to me like you could use a win. I don't want to pry into your personal business, dear. I just want to make sure you're okay. I know it's a bit premature, but my son is quite taken by you. I don't blame him." My face flushed crimson. "I don't understand why. I'm a touch awkward, ma'am." "Maybe in how you carry yourself, but believe me, you're a pretty girl blossoming into a beautiful young woman. He'd be lucky to have you. If you need anything at all, don't hesitate to ask, okay?" I nodded in agreement, and we rejoined Ela, and Eileen who'd made their selections. "Where should I have the packages sent, Mrs. Barclay?" Javier asked, clipboard in hand. "You can send my purchases to my residence, Javier. As far as the girls' things..." She paused and waited for us to answer. "You can send them all to my address, Javier," Eileen answered for us. She explained, "Just to keep things simple. We only live a few blocks from each other, and I'm sure Archie would love any excuse to pay Ela a visit." At this point, Eileen was still a mystery to me. Whatever the case, I was just glad a dress wouldn't be delivered to our apartment with my name on it. Almost as if an afterthought, she came up with a plan. "Actually...you know, girls, tonight we could have a sleepover, and then you two could come to church with my family in the morning, if you'd like. I'd love to have you. We could do each other's hair, talk about boys...tell each other secrets." Her tone was sweet, but I knew then and there that she wasn't asking. "That sounds wonderful, Eileen," I said calmly. Really though, I was terrified of what she'd do if I said no. "Sure, Eileen," Ela said, shooting me a side eyed glance. Mrs. Barclay gave a nostalgic monologue on gal pals while we trailed along behind her. She didn't know it, but the tension between the three of us was as thick as a week old stew. When we were seated in the back seat of the car again, Eileen smiled at us both, but never said a single word for the entire drive. Ela, and I in complete disbelief, huddled up together in the backseat. I knew there was no easy way to just walk away from all of it by then. The only real option we had was to see it through to the end. When we pulled up outside of Ebbets Field, all the fears, insecurities and anxieties I had been experiencing went right out the window. The majestic structure stood tall in the north of town, and was one of the main reasons I was proud to be a Brooklyn native. We still had an hour before the first pitch so I took my time walking to the gates, taking in every sensation, from the bustle of the crowd, to the smell of peanuts. Excitement was in the air. The Dodgers were having their best season ever, after all. Out front, Archie and the Barclay men were waiting for us. "Your hair!" Andy exclaimed, when he saw me approaching. I blushed, and tried to hide behind my hands. "Is it that bad?" He took my hands in his, and looked deep in my eyes. "Hey there, Dolly. Don't cry. I was just surprised, is all. It's real nifty. You look great, Marion." "I wasn't crying." For some reason, his compliments made me feel warm inside. I looked back into his eyes, and felt a comfort wash over me. I fluffed the ends proudly, and already knowing his answer, asked him, "Do you really think it looks keen, Andy?" "Of course, Doll. You're even more gorgeous than before." Anytime I was afraid of being read, Andy was there to remind me just how silly that idea was. His father cleared his throat loudly. I assume he was trying to get our attention, while embarrassing us as little as possible. We didn't notice till that moment, but everyone was staring at us. For a minute there, I felt like the only people in the world were Andy, and me. "Come along now, children. Let's get to our seats." In the park we found our box behind home plate. It was the best view in the house, as far as I'm concerned. Sure, I'd never catch a foul ball, or a homerun there, but let's be honest, I was never going to do that anyway. Nothing was particularly special about the seats, other than the color. I think it just felt special to have a tiny little section of ten chairs that were just for us. The crowd was electric. I actually felt bad for the Redlegs. When another team came to Brooklyn, we let them know exactly where they were. You couldn't find better fans. It gave a new meaning to the term home field advantage. I took a seat between Andy and his father, setting my purse beneath me on the ground. The two of them talked over me, while I kept my eyes on the field, eager for the game to begin. Jimmy and Eileen had gone to grab refreshments for everyone, so Ela seized the opportunity. "Marion, I need to powder my nose. Would you join me, please?" Playing my part, I grabbed my bag, and we headed to the concourse. Once out of earshot, Ela said, "I'm so sorry about this, Marion. How are we going to explain your hair when we get home tomorrow?" "Wait, are we actually going to stay at that psycho's house tonight?" "Eileen's not a psycho. She's my friend. I'm sure there's a logical explanation for everything. If she did recognize you, I don't see why she'd want to humiliate you. Sure, she's got a fierce reputation, but she's not malicious. We'll stay there tonight, and see what's what. Besides, it will give us some time to figure out what to do about your look." "If you're sure, I'll go along with it. There's a payphone over there. We should call your mom." I fished a nickel out of my purse, and we dialed the number. Ela's mom answered, but I only heard one half of the conversation. "Hey Mom...We're at Ebbets Field now...I know I should have talked to you about it face to face, but with your schedule there wasn't really a good time...Yeah, Marion's with me...He's having a good time...Yes, we're safe...No, their parents are here. So's Eileen...She's doing well. Actually, she invited me to stay the night tonight...Marion's going to stay with the boys over at Andy's...Okay...okay...uhh...Okay, I promise...Love you...Marion loves you too...See you tomorrow." Ela hung up the receiver. "We're covered until tomorrow. We should hurry back to our seats before someone comes looking for us." All through the national anthem, my mind was in a thousand other places, but it was a different story once Sandy Koufax took to the mound. "Where's Newk?" I asked. "I'm not sure, sweetheart," Mr. Barclay answered. "Don Newcombe hasn't played in the last few games. I haven't read anything about an injury, so I'd assume he's probably resting up for the National League Championship." "But Koufax isn't even a starter usually. I hope everything is okay." It's funny to think how I thought so little of him back then, when he'd go on to have one of the greatest careers in the history of baseball. "Looks like you've brought us a real fan, son," Mr Barclay said, patting his boy on the back. "I know you two were preoccupied with your date, so you probably missed it. Erskine didn't do so great last night. I imagine that's why they're giving the youngsters a chance." At the top of the first inning, Johnny Temple made his way to the plate. Koufax first pitched a ball. The second go round he followed it with a strike, right down the middle. Koufax tried for another fast ball after, but Temple got a hold of it, and hit a fly ball right up the middle. He didn't quite get all of it though, and Snider managed to get underneath it. That was the first out. When Burgess stepped up next, they played a similar game of cat and mouse, but this time, Koufax managed to strike him out. I got a little nervous when Kluszewski managed to take a base, but my worries proved unfounded when Furillo caught another fly ball to send the Redlegs back onto the field. The bottom of the first started with a double play by Gillam. After that Fowler managed to strike out Reese, but threw a wild pitch on Snider, so Gillam was able to steal third. One fly ball later, and Gillam was able to bring it home for the first run on the board. Right after that, Snider was still on first. Furillo was at bat. Fowler threw one, and Furillo didn't even try to mess with it. I think Fowler had something to prove then, but failed to make his point. His second pitch was straight over the plate. Furillo wasn't having any of it though. He made solid contact with the ball, sending it right up the middle. Going, going, gone. Not a single butt was in its seat because Carl Furillo had just hit a two-run homerun. I was jumping up and down, clapping my hands together, when I turned to look up at Andy. Just as swept up in the moment as I was, he leaned down, and planted a big fat kiss on my lips, and then pulled me tight into his chest. "Andy, your parents are right there," I said, nodding back to his father. If I could have seen behind me, I would have seen Mr. Barclay grinning proudly. The next few innings, neither team would give ground, but there was a ferocity to Koufax. He didn't let a single runner on base. In the fourth Jackie Robinson managed to steal his way to another run for the Dodgers. For the rest of the game Koufax was striking out hitters left and right. Through the use of good fundamentals, the Dodgers had managed to score three more runs. In the ninth, when Bridges hit a popup to short, Pee Wee Reese easily made the catch, and that was it. The Brooklyn Dodgers beat the Cincinnati Redlegs in a blowout Seven to nothing. We destroyed them. Again, not a soul was sitting down. People were throwing their hats in the air, and cheering long after the last play had been made. I must have gotten swept up in the moment, because this time, when I locked eyes with Andy, it was me grabbing him by the cheeks, and planting a big wet one on his lips. When I remembered myself, for the hundredth time that day, everyone was staring at us. "Just a little thank you for bringing me today," I whispered, shyly, my cheeks burning red. After battling our way through the mob, everyone said their goodbyes outside. Andy had pulled me aside to have a private conversation. "I'm really glad you came today, Marion. I have to admit, I thought I blew it last night, but here you are. It's like a dream come true." "You're sweet, Andy, but I'm no dream. You could do so much better than me. Trust me." I saw the sadness on his face, but he was trying to keep it together as was expected of young men back then. Honestly, my heart broke a little. "That's nonsense. You're the ginchiest girl I've ever met. You're just so pretty...wait, sorry, you're more than that. You're smart. You like science fiction. You love baseball. We have so much in common. Just say you'll go out with me one more time. Please. If you say no again, I just might die." He was being melodramatic, sure, but who isn't at that age.With all those hormones raging, everything is just so big. Inside, I was being melodramatic too. I wanted out of my predicament, but I didn't want to hurt the boy either. "I'll think about it. Just give me a little time to decide." His face lit up, and he pulled me into a tight embrace. "You're the best, Marion. I'll call you later this week." Him calling me was not part of the plan. I'd definitely have to worry about that when the time came. Whatever the case, I'd have to discuss it with Ela later. Ela, Eileen, and I were saying our goodbyes before we walked to the trolley stop. Archie had decided to stay behind for a boy's night since we were having a girl's night. "Are you sure I can't call you girls a cab?" Mrs. Barclay asked for the hundredth time. "I just don't feel right about leaving you to fend for yourselves." "We're okay Mrs. Barclay." Eileen assured her. "We live in Williamsburg. There aren't too many stops. It's still daylight out, anyway. Thanks so much for everything today." Ela, and I echoed her sentiments, and after a prolonged goodbye, we headed to the trolley stop on the corner. Once we got to the stop, Ela looked back to make sure we were out of earshot, and then she went off. "What the hell was that, Eileen? Were you trying to torture Marion." After the outburst, she realized that everyone at the stop was staring at the three of us, so she quickly zipped her lips. The trolley didn't pull up too much later, and we were on our way back to the neighborhood. I had a good mind to stay on when we got to Eileen's stop, and just ride it the rest of the way back to our apartment, but I didn't plan far enough ahead to get past Magda, and out of my costume. When we got to the butcher shop, instead of going in the main entrance we went through a side door, and up a staircase to the Connolly family's apartment. "Is that you, Eileen?" her mother called out in her thick Scottish brogue. "Come to the kitchen before you go to your room. "Coming, Mother!" she shouted back, slipping her shoes off at the doorway. We followed her example, and left our shoes in the pile by the back door. "I've got Ela, and Marion from down the street with me." The Connolly household wasn't dirty by any means, but it wasn't exactly organized either. On the hutch in the entryway alone, there was a toy car, a feather duster, two sets of keys, a full bottle of coke, and a rubber chicken for some reason. I hadn't seen them yet, but I heard what sounded like a mob of small children pitter pattering across the floor. Navigating through the maze of unpacked boxes, and stacks of newspapers, we found our way to the kitchen, where Mrs. Connolly was waiting with a baby on her hip. "Ela dearie, how are you?" she said with a cigarette hanging from her lips. She pulled Ela tightly into her oversized bosom. I tried not to snicker when Ela looked like she was going to suffocate. She was a shapely lady, not cursed with an excess of shame. Her hair was up in rollers under a hairnet, and she wore a floral print mumu. "How's your mother doing? Did you all enjoy that corn beef last week?" "Thanks for asking, Mrs. Connolly. She's fine, and it was delicious." Ela was always so polite. I knew for a fact that she didn't want to be there at that moment, but not another soul had any reason to think otherwise. "And who do we have here?" Mrs. Connolly asked, turning her attention to me. Eileen answered for me. "Mother, this is Marion. She and her mother live with the Kowalskis." "Oh right. I don't know why, but I thought I remembered there being a boy there though. Oh well. Obviously that wasn't right. It's nice to meet you, Dearie." She pulled me into her bosom this time. She might have been underdressed, but she was certainly wearing an ample amount of perfume. "That reminds me. A delivery boy dropped off some packages for you a little while ago. I hope you're not taking advantage of Mrs. Barclay." Eileen shrugged her off. "I'm not, Mother. She's just a nice woman, who likes to lavish gifts on people. Who am I to stop her? Only some of those things are mine anyway. The rest are for Marion, and Ela. I just had them deliver them here, since the store already had our address on file." "Okay. I supposed that's fine. You had better write her a nice thank you note for this though." "Of course, Mother. I always do. Anyway, if it's okay with you, Ela, and Marion are going to stay here tonight, and go to church with us in the morning. We're going to have a slumber party. You know..do each other's hair, talk about boys. That kind of thing." "I don't see why not," Mrs. Barclay said, stroking her chin. "As long as their mothers are fine with it." "Thank you, Mother." Eileen said, kissing her mom on the cheek. "Can we order pizza for dinner?" "I suppose. You lot run along now. I've got a dozen more bottles to boil." We stepped into the hallway where three heads of curly red hair came out of a room, and blew past our waist in a blur, giggling the entire way. When we stepped through the door to Eileen's room, it was obvious she was a different animal from the rest of her family. Everything had a place. Her bed was perfectly made up, hospital corners and all. It was the quintessential teenage girls bedroom, decorated in lace and frills. "Okay, enough bullshit, Eileen." Ela said as soon as the door closed behind her. I'd never heard her be so vulgar before. "What is going on? Why did you shanghai Marion into getting that haircut? Are you trying to punish him for something?" "Yeah," I said, joining in the interrogation. "I thought you didn't even know I existed. What have you got against me? Why are you torturing me?" "Torturing you!?" Eileen was shocked at the accusation. "I'm not torturing you. You look amazing. Of course I know you exist. We were in the same classes in middle school. You were the only other kid in our grade with fiery red hair. We even had a few classes together in high school, before my family moved to Williamsburg. I think it was serendipitous that you followed behind. Marion, I love you." "You...love me?" Ela wasn't having any of it. "You love him? That's insane. You don't even know him." "Not romantic love, Ela. I mean, I love what you're doing. I love the way you look. It's all so...thrilling. From here on out, I want to take care of you, and guide you along your path. You know, Helen Liebowitz and I used to whisper about you in home room. You were just so pretty. The first time we saw you in fifth grade, we debated for hours on whether you were a boy or a girl. She thought she'd won. She said it was obvious, since you were wearing pants to school, but I wasn't convinced. I knew I was right when you turned up this morning, looking like a young Irish Dorris day. When I heard about your accident, I was terrified that it had ruined that pretty face of yours. Instead, you came back from it even more beautiful. That kind of thing just doesn't happen. It's fate. " "You're not right, Eileen. You're insane, is what you are. I might be wearing this getup, but underneath it beats the heart of a red blooded male." I tried to sound commanding, but I was so flustered, my argument squeaked out in a far less than intimidating fashion. "I'm not talking about how you look, darling. Sure, I'd spend hours sitting behind you in class imagining how cute you'd look with twin plaits in your hair. I mean, when the beautician asked what you wanted, and you fumbled like a buffoon, I saw an opportunity to help you along your way. You needed a style that suited you, and now you have one. You couldn't wear my ponytail forever anyway. I was going to want it back sooner or later." "But I didn't want a new style, Eileen. All this was supposed to be temporary." "It's true, Eileen. It started as a bit of fun, and then Archie saw him by pure chance. Somehow it led to him asking us on a double date with him and Andy. It just got out of hand." "I'm sure my stupid brother was the instigator, but Marion came out today looking like just another teeny bopper, of her own volition." "That was just to see the baseball game, Eileen," I said defensively. "I took advantage of Andy. Believe me. I'm regretting that now." A sardonic smile crossed her lips. "So then, what was that kiss?" "He kissed me after that home run. He just got swept up in the moment." "Not that one, Marion. The second one. You kissed him." "Wait, she's right actually," Ela said, turning her focus back to me. "We all saw that, Marion. You did kiss him...unprovoked. What was that all about?" "That was..." I tried to come up with a halfway decent excuse, but that well was dry so I wound up reusing one. "I got swept up in the moment too." Ela, who had fully switched sides at this point, crossed her arms, and raised an eyebrow. "It seemed to me you got swept up by him. Not the ball game. I mean, I don't know a lot about baseball myself, but after the trouncing the Dodgers gave the Redlegs, the ending was sort of anticlimactic." I could literally feel my face burning crimson. "She's right, sweetie," Eileen joined in. "You swooned, the same way I swoon when Jimmy kisses me like that." I searched for any other reason, other than the one I didn't like. There was a cognitive dissonance between the person I thought I was supposed to be, and the person I'd been since my date the previous night. Unable to respond, I froze up, and a single tear streamed down my cheek. "Don't cry, baby," Eileen said, embracing me. "You don't have to figure it all out right now." Ela wrapped her arms around both of us, and we sat in a group hug for a few minutes, while I processed exactly what was going on. When she finally released me, Eileen offered, "You know, you're stuck here till tomorrow afternoon. You might as well relax, and enjoy the slumber party. Leave tomorrow's problems for then." I wiped my face, and silently nodded in agreement. As a group, we decided what kind of pizza we wanted, and Eileen placed the order. I'd never known anyone who had a phone in their bedroom, but Eileen was the kind of girl who got what she wanted, so it didn't surprise me. She put on a record, and we spent the rest of the evening talking about people we went to school with, and doing our nails. When bedtime approached, Eileen loaned us two nightgowns to sleep in, and the girls taught me how to set my hair for the evening. I had most of my hair rolled up in pin curls following the lines of my style, and two little curlers holding my bangs taught above my forehead. We washed off our makeup, and I was shown how to wrap my hair in a chiffon scarf to protect it while I slept. In true slumber party fashion, we were up for another two hours after the lights went out. We couldn't stop joking around, and asking each other silly questions. I'm not even sure exactly when I drifted off. The hair pins did take a little getting used to, but soon enough we were sound asleep, and tomorrow's problems would have to wait for me to wake.