63 Days

Fall 1986 - 2 years before Challenger

Mom and Dad took me over to the Jr. High School. It was 8th grade orientation and the school I was attending had just reopened after a year of asbestos clean-up and I could smell the new paint the second I walked through those heavy metal double doors.

WELCOME BRUINS!

The sign was blue and it was shiny, I remember. Other parents and students walked warily around, checking out the office, the round hallways that separated into pods that led off of every side of the main building like an octopus. The school was for 7th, 8th and 9th graders and I was glad to not be the youngest group of students this year. It sucks being the baby of the school.

There were teachers standing in their rooms, pretending to be busy as they shuffled papers around and randomly stapled up maps of the lower 48 states on walls that would be soon be stared upon by teenage eyes full of angst and insecurity. Some kids were following their parents into the classrooms listening to their dad say things like “yes, you should sit in the front. The front is the best place to see the board!” This always caused eyes to roll. Parents don’t understand that the front isn’t the “cool” place to sit. Everyone wants the back. Another thing, don’t parents know that teachers make seating charts? There was no choice in where you sat back then.

I did like the rest of the kids and walked around, checking out the schedule ever so carefully as I mapped out my classed throughout the day…nobody wants to be lost their first day. When we got to the locker I was assigned to, there was a girl next to me. Her locker was right below mine to the right. We smiled at eachother and repeated the combinations over and over again while our parents began to make small talk.

She looked at me. “Hi. This sucks huh.”

I nodded and snickered back “yeah, it totally does.”

“Hi, I’m Jana,” she said. “Where do you live?”

I told her where I lived, what I liked to do…how much I hated jr. high. She and I exchanged numbers and within a week, she and I were inseperable. We decided to have a sleepover at her house.

I arrived with my pillow and makeup case. My dad said goodbye to me as he drove off. I went up to the door and knocked. Her older brother opened the door and let me in.

Her house was small but elegant. There were flowers everywhere and I could tell that her mom and my mom would have a good time decorating together. She came out and took me into her room.

She closed the door and immediately threw out a secret. “Guess what, we can get drunk tonight cuz I have a couple of 6 packs of peach wine coolers in my closet. Oh, and my brother…he grows weed in his closet. Don’t tell my parents.”

I didn’t know exactly what to say, but I knew I didn’t want to say no. I was at the age where I was beginning to push memories that were surfacing down, trying anything to keep my mind off of the past.

We listened to music for a while and did our hair up really big and fluffy. Lipstick was applied and as night grew upon us, we decided to go for a walk. We told her step-dad that we decided to go to my house for the night since I had a better stereo, and we left, wine coolers already stowed in our bags. We set out along one of the less busy roads by ourselves, two 13 year old girls, dressed and made up to look like 18 year olds.

“We should get a ride to a party or something. My brother’s friend has a condo up the street, and we could go there and hang out tonight.”

The walk wasn’t bad, we were talking the whole time and stopping every once in a while behind a mailbox or tree to chug a wine cooler or two til we were both tipsy and laying on a beautiful lawn outside who know’s who’s house in the middle of the suburbs.

“Don’t you love being drunk?” she asked me.

I thought about it, it was my first time, and yes, the peach wine coolers were tasty, but I still didn’t feel that “love” she obviously did.

“Well, it feels good,” I answered. “I’m all spinny…”

I woke up when the sprinklers came on and looked at my soaking wet watch…4:32 am. I woke up Jana and we hurried home, wet and still tipsy, and climbed into her window just intime to change into dry clothes and get in bed before her step dad woke up at 5. I remember wondering if I was bad for trying wine coolers. I knew already that the judgement and sentencing by my parents would be harsh, so I never told a soul. I also knew this wouldn’t be my last time drinking.