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| Cozey Serial |

Upper Class: Chapter 48

Of course, I’d never admit this to anyone. I sound like a crazy person, or at least very unteenagery

I follow Ma up the path, feeling strangely wistful. Is there something wrong with me?

Don’t answer that. But why do I feel like my childhood just ended? These moments of Ma driving and me in the passenger seat… it’s been like that my whole life. And now that I passed my driving test (woohooooooooo!) I feel I’m saying goodbye to a whole part of my life. Of course, I’d never admit this to anyone. I sound like a crazy person, or at least very unteenagery.

I push open the door, feeling nostalgic for the childhood I’m in the middle of, and am greeted by a blast of noise.

“CONGRATSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!”

Libby blows a noisemaker into my ear, Miri is holding up a giant card, all the nieces and nephews are wearing racecar driver hats, Abba is beaming, Sima is holding pom-poms, and Debbi is there, in the corner, holding a car-shaped fondant cake.

I blink, taking in the madness, and then run around, hugging everyone and jumping up and down. Hey, just ’cause I’m feeling wistful doesn’t mean I’m not excited.

Debbi gives me a big hug but lets go quickly. I understand; baby steps. Friendship can’t be built in a day and all that.

We sit and have pizza and then cut into the fancy cake.

“Run over any more stop signs?” Yocheved calls out.

“Just a pedestrian or two,” I call back.

Chas v’shalom!” Ma, Miri, and Simi all say together, and we all crack up.

“Libby, can we double this as your shower?” I ask, only half joking.

She smiles sweetly. “Oh, for sure! I mean, only if you want to get uninvited from the wedding, that is.”

Sima pulls me into a huddle with Miri and Yocheved. “We really do need to plan the shower, guys.”

I stretch. “Maskim. But later, okay? Now let’s just celebrate me.”

Miri ruffles my hair. “Spoken like a true youngest. Okay, hon, you got it.”

Debbi wants to hear every detail. “Is it terrifying? How was the parking? Who was your instructor?”

I rehash the entire test for her; she won’t be testing until next week.

She looks a little green, so I stop and throw an arm around her shoulder casually. “Well, listen, if you fail, at least you’ll have me to drive you places.”

She closes her eyes. “Ohmigosh, don’t even say that. I need to pass.” She mutters something about getting out of the house whenever she wants.

I don’t ask her to elaborate, but I understand. Time hasn’t stood still when I was busy with Shan. Debbi has gone through things as well, and when she’s ready, when we both are, she’ll share with me.

***

I dress for comfort. Ugg slippers, giant hoodie, stretchiest skirt. Curling up on my bed, I jingle the extra keys Abba has given me as a symbol of my success and smile up at the ceiling.

It’s been a long winter. So much has changed. Is that what being a teen is all about? Rolling with the punches, riding the waves? When do we just have things status quo, steady baseline and all that?

The phone pings but I don’t answer it. I’m too comfortable, too drowsy, my stomach full of cake, my mind full of thoughts. And then I spot the brown leather on my desk and I bolt upright. My notebook! I haven’t written in ages.

Suddenly buoyed, I jump off the bed to grab it. I curl back up, open it like it’s a book I’ve never read before.

This Naomi has had an interesting life.

I smirk at my earlier writings, grown thoughtful as I progress.

And then I reach the first blank page.

Well, we can’t have that. Not when the story was getting so good.

So I grab a pen.  And I write.

Two roads diverged in my teenagerhood 

And maybe I can’t travel both

But one is long and curved and worn

And the other is tattered and twisted and torn

And maybe one’s right and maybe one’s wrong

But to me they look equally hard and so long

And I couldn’t choose and no one could help

And slowly I lost my grip on myself

I started to fade, I gave in to the night

Till  You showed me it can be the left or the right

It’s only up to You which one I’ll go

And that’s really the best thing that I’ll ever know.

I sit back. A poet I might not be, but I feel strangely free. Emptied out, and lighter than I’d felt in days.

Almost like I’d packaged all of my angst and emotions up in a little box and then tucked the box neatly away.

Strange, but nice.

Filled with renewed energies, I reach for my phone.

Congrats on the test, you crazy kid.

I heard they ordered you pizza. Stuffed Crusts?

Oh, ha ha. Rolling my eyes, I text Shan back.

Way too soon to joke about that, hon.

Give me another ten years.

Will Shan and I be friends in ten years? Only Hashem knows.

But right now, today, I know we are.

It’s only up to You which one I’ll go

And that’s really the best thing that I’ll ever know.  

To be continued…

 

(Originally featured in Treeo, Issue 995)

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