family selfies . . .
Enough already.
I get it—you’re all so loving and close
and happy happy happy.
Then I Hear a Familiar High-Pitched Laugh
I turn—and there,
just a few yards away from me,
are Rosa and Jasmine.
They’re walking arm in arm,
leaning into each other,
sharing some secret I’ll never hear.
I will myself to be invisible,
but it’s too late.
They’ve spotted me.
They exchange a quick glance,
give me an awkward little wave,
and duck down a stairway to the beach.
I stand here watching them go,
surrounded by hundreds of people,
feeling as insignificant as a grain of sand . . .
Then a Baby Starts Wailing
I glance in the direction of its cries
and see it sitting in a stroller,
its tiny face fiery red
and all scrunched up,
waving its little fists
like an eensie-weensie pissed-off dictator.
The stroller makes me think
of the girl with red hair.
And for a second,
I think about how great it would feel
to just open my mouth and start
wailing right along with that baby . . .
Then—I’m running,
with Pixel racing along beside me,
running through the hordes
of annoyingly cheery families,
through the flocks
of carefree laughing teens.
And it seems like everywhere I look
there’s another redhead.
Another redhead
that’s not her.
I Rush Up to the Railing Overlooking the Water
And grab hold of it.
My fingers are tingling . . .
My chest’s too tight . . . I’m dying!
But then Pixel
rests his paws on my thigh
and works his nose into my palm,
forcing me
to loosen my hold on the railing
and start patting him instead.
Then he looks up at me as if to say,
“Whatsa matter, kiddo?
Did ya forget how to breathe?”
So I take a few deep swallows of air,
and when my heart rate returns to normal,
he cocks his head at me like,
“Good girl. Now follow me.”
Then He Starts Tugging on His Leash
And before I even know
what’s happening,
he’s dragging me over to a ticket booth
and looking up at me like,
“Don’t question me.
Just buy a freaking ticket.”
So I do what he says.
Then he pulls me over to the Ferris wheel.
A minute later,
we’re climbing into a bright yellow gondola.
And a minute after that—
so is a ridiculously cute boy!
The Three of Us
Are whisked up
into the sunset-streaked sky,
the neon spokes whirling around us.
Pixel wags his tail
and raises an eyebrow at me
as if to say,
“If God hadn’t wanted you
to meet this ridiculously cute guy,
he wouldn’t have created this Ferris wheel.”
I steal a peek at the boy.
He’s sitting just a few feet away,
right across from me, on the other bench.
And—oh my gosh.
He’s looking at me, too,
smiling from ear to gorgeous ear.
Looking at me
with the most soulful brown eyes
I’ve ever seen in my life.
Looking
right at me.
At me.
And it looks
like he likes
what he sees.
I Smile Back at Him
Not in a flirty way.
More in like an I-can’t-help-it way.
Because his wavy black hair,
curling around his ears,
is just . . .
Well it’s just so adorable.
And he almost looks like . . .
like he’s blushing . . .
Oh man.
He is blushing . . .
I Can Feel My Own Cheeks Flaming Up Now
So as we circle through the sky,
I tear my eyes away from his
and look down at the ground instead.
Which is when I see that he’s wearing
a beat-up pair of red Converse high-tops.
The same exact shoes that I’m wearing!
And suddenly—I’m laughing.
“What’s so funny?” the boy asks.
“Our shoes,” I say.
He looks down at my feet
and starts laughing, too.
“You’ve got great taste,” he says.
“So do you.”
And this time, when our eyes meet,
everything seems to freeze in place—
as if the world
has stopped spinning
on its axis.
Oh. Wait.
It’s not the world
that’s stopped spinning.
It’s
the Ferris wheel!
So, Just to Clarify Then:
I am hanging in the air
one hundred feet above the pier
in a tiny little gondola
which is creaking and groaning
in a way that does not
inspire confidence
in whatever it is
that’s keeping this thing
from crashing to the ground
and the cutest boy I’ve ever seen
is telling me his name is Cristo
and asking me mine
and I’m introducing him to Pixel
and they’re shaking hands
and then we’re making small talk
but it seems like big talk somehow
and the whole time he’s looking at me
like he’s been lost in the desert for days
and I’m a nice cold glass of water
and I’m freaking out
because I pretty much don’t know
the first thing about flirting
because I only got my braces off
and grew these boobs
like yesterday
and this is basically the first guy
who’s ever really flirted with me.
So, just to clarify then:
I am feeling headswirlingly dizzy right now.
And also,
a little bit queasy.
Pixel Rests His Paw on My Arm
So I take
a few deep breaths.
And it does help.
A little.
But I must look like I’m hyperventilating,
because Cristo seems concerned.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“Are you afraid of heights?”
“No,” I reply. “Well . . . yes. A little.
But I’m more afraid of saying
something that will reveal
my pitiful lack of flirting experience.”
Oh no.
Did I just say that out loud?
Ack! I must have—
because Cristo’s laughing again.
“See what I mean?” I say.
“I’m hopeless.”
“No you’re not,” he says.
“You’re hilarious.”
Whoa . . .
Why do I feel so floaty all of a sudden?
Like I’m a dandelion puff
drifting though the sky . . .
Pixel Gives Me a Look
A look that says,
“You are hilarious.
This guy gets you, kiddo.”
Then he scoots over to Cristo,
hops up next to him, and rests his head
on his knee as if to say,
“If you want to feel
the softest fur in the world,
try patting this guy, buddy.”
Cristo reaches down to pet him,
and I can see him noticing
Pixel’s service vest.
He glances over at me like
he wonders why I need a comfort dog.
But he’s too polite to ask.
Which is a lucky thing for me.
Because it’s definitely too soon
to explain it to him.
It’ll probably
always be too soon
to explain it to him.
A Second Later
The Ferris wheel lurches back into action,
and a little gasp escapes us both.
Then, as we begin
floating back down to earth,
I notice a commotion
in the gondola across from ours.
Someone’s standing up
and dancing around,
trying to get it
to rock back and forth . . .
Someone . . .
with red hair—
Oh my God!
It’s her!
I Open My Mouth to Call Out to Her
But then I realize
I don’t even know her name.
What would I shout? “Hey . . . you?”
Besides, she looks so wild
and disheveled and so . . . so out of it.
Is she drunk? Is she high?
The old couple
riding in the gondola with her
are clinging to each other for dear life.
I sneak a peek at Cristo.
He’s watching the drama unfold
with this horrified look on his face.
What would
he think of me
if he knew that I knew her?
If he knew
that I’d spent the whole day
searching for her?
How would I explain it to him
when I can’t even explain it to myself?
I don’t know why I’m so obsessed with her.
So I clamp my mouth shut and just sit here,
gripping the edge of my seat so tight
that my knuckles go white.
Then
The guy in charge of the ride
notices the girl and starts shouting.
“Please remain seated, miss! Remain seated!”
But she doesn’t seem to hear him.
Or if she does,
she doesn’t care.
She clutches the metal pole
in the center of the gondola
and starts spinning around it,
while
the poor old couple
shrinks out of her way.
As their gondola whisks them upward,
Cristo shakes his head and says,
“That girl’s high in more ways than one.”
I don’t know what to say.
So I don’t say anything.
I just give him a weak smile
and go back
to gripping the edge
of my seat.
Their Gondola Crests the Top of the Wheel
And then starts back down again,
just as the roller coaster whizzes past,
its red-and-yellow chain of clattering cars
blurring into an orange streak of screams.
The girl glances over at it—
and that’s when she sees me.
She flashes me a grin
and gives me a quick little wave.
I check to see if Cristo’s watching.
But he’s distracted by the roller coaster.
So I smile
and wave back at her.
And a minute later,
when their gondola reaches the ground,
she leaps over the side, dashes away,
and dissolves into the crowd.
I stare after her,
trying not to lose sight
of that rusty red hair.
But it’s no use.
She’s disappeared again.
As Our Gondola Begins Its Descent
So does
my heart.
Pixel wags his tail
and gives me a look like,
“Don’t worry, kiddo. I’ll help you find her.”
I sigh and reach out to pat him.
It’s a sweet offer.
But it’s hopeless.
They’ll be unloading the passengers
from a dozen more gondolas before it’s our turn.
The girl will have at least
a ten-minute head start on us.
And with the hordes of holiday tourists
swarming the streets of Santa Monica,
finding her will be tougher than finding
a needle in a field full of haystacks . . .
Pixel Gently Nips One of My Fingers
And suddenly I realize
that Cristo has been talking to me.
And that I haven’t heard
a single word he’s been saying.
“So . . . ?” he says, leaning toward me eagerly.
“What do you think?”
“Um . . . I don’t know,” I say, biting my lip.
“What do . . . you think?”
“I think it’s a perfect plan.
Let’s do it!”
“Okay . . . ,” I say. “Let’s . . . do it!”
But then I instantly regret it.
Because, I mean,
I barely know this guy.
And I have no clue
what I’ve just agreed to do!
But Now Cristo’s Smiling at Me
Saying, “Awesome!”
And his smile’s so . . . Well it’s just so
outrageously beautiful
faster than butter
on a freshly toasted bagel.
Geez . . . I sure hope
I haven’t agreed to help him
rob a bank or something.
Because if he keeps on
smiling at me like this,
I might just do it!
When Our Gondola
Finally Reaches the Ground
We hop out and Cristo says,
“So. First stop—Pier Burger.
We can choose the movie while we eat.”
I heave
a secret sigh of relief.
But then it hits me:
I, Molly Rosenberg,
am about to go
on my very first date!
And suddenly
my legs feel like
two very overcooked noodles.
Something Tells Me
That “I met a gorgeous boy
on the Ferris wheel
and he’s taking me on a date”
might not go over too well with my mom.
(Smoking so much pot makes her paranoid.)
So when I duck
into the bathroom to call her,
I just tell her I’m going to dinner
and a movie with some friends.
(Which is true, if you count Pixel.)
Fortunately,
she’s too out of it to remember
that I have no friends.
She just tells me to have fun
and be home by ten.
I hang up and check the time.
It’s only five thirty.
Cristo and I still have
four and a half whole hours
to be together!
So Here’s What I’ve Learned So Far:
When you are on a date
with a boy you like,
the burgers taste like fancy steaks
a
nd the Cokes make you both feel tipsy.
When you are on a date
with a boy you like,
somehow the worse a joke is
the more it makes you laugh.
When you are on a date
with a boy you like,
everything around you
seems to glow—
as if
the whole world’s
lit only
by candles.
After Dinner
As Cristo and I
stroll through the Promenade,
slowly making our way
to the movie theater,
my thoughts drift
to Rosa and Jasmine.
If only they could see me now—
walking along with this amazing guy . . .
It’s Friday night,
so this no-cars-allowed stretch of 3rd Street
is jammed with people shopping and eating
and watching all the street performers.
There’s so many different acts,
it’s like an impromptu circus,
only without all the scary clowns
and elephant poop.
We stop to watch a guy
who’s doing a parody of a mime,
pretending he’s stuck in a box
that’s shrinking.
At least I hope it’s a parody . . .
Either way, it’s hysterical.
The crowd that’s gathered to watch him
roars with laughter.
I glance up
and my breath catches in my throat.
Right across from me—
there’s a redhead!
But then I see that it’s not my redhead.
And hope crumbles in my chest
like a sandcastle wrecked
by a wave.
The Mime Bursts Out of His Invisible Box
And starts passing the hat.
Cristo and I give him some change,
then continue on toward the theater.
As we get closer,
we hear the sexy pulsing beat
of salsa music.
A couple of college guys
coming from that direction
brush past us.
One of them says to the other,
“That chick doing the salsa back there
is psycho . . . But man, she’s hot.”
“Yeah,” the other guy says.
“I’d hit that if she wasn’t such a whack job.”
Then they both crack up.