There are three girls strewn across the bed. The first girl lies on her stomach, her head at the foot of the bed, her arms dangling down toward the floor. Her knees are bent and her feet are bare and swinging back and forth erratically, as if happy to be free of the constraints of socks and shoes. The hue of her hair is just slightly green mixed with the dark brown. The offending Doc Martins and orange ankle socks sit forlornly just beyond the tips of the girl's fingers. The second girl's head rests in the third girl's lap where her hair is being gently stroked. Her hair is long and momentarily jet black, a striking contrast to her bright blue eyes. Her jean clad legs are crossed and stretch across the bed beneath the bare swinging feet. The third girl sits with her head reclined against a pillow and her knees bent, pointed toward the ceiling. Her black skirt has risen high over her dark tights and her eyes are closed as her hand continues absently through the long, silky tendrils, unaware that she's actually doing this. The second girl smiles while she is gently petted, practically purring with contentment, toes wiggling inside her pink Converse sneakers.
They lie here on this warm spring afternoon with the window open and the breeze drifting over them, the sun marking it's slow descent on the bedroom carpet. There is music playing as they lie quietly listening, lackadaisical in the luxuriousness of their little cocoon. Clothes, magazines, tapes and books are strewn across the floor, bulging book backs tossed carelessly in the corner, temporarily and gratefully abandoned and forgotten. On other days there might be gossip and chatting, phone calls and homework, dates to prepare for and shifts at work to attend. But today, there is just this room, the music and the three girls enjoying the peace and solitude together.
There have been countless afternoons such as these shared between the three girls - watching movies, listening to music, discussing the days events. But these coveted afternoons are numbered as high school graduation draws closer. The girls are keenly aware, even now hidden away from the world, that their adolescence is almost over. SAT's have been taken, college acceptance letters have arrived, financial aid forms have been filed. The truth is, these times spent together just the three of them have already become more sparse. There are boyfriends, after school jobs, and preparations to be made, responsibilities they must fulfill. They are growing up and growing apart, becoming the women they have spent so much time preparing to become, that they have helped each other to be. They have shared tears and broken hearts, first kisses and manic crushes, bad hair days and put-a-bag-over-your-head days, complained about their parents and celebrated their achievements, a virginity or two has already been lost. It is hard for them to accept that a day will come soon where they will not see or speak to each other every day. When they may still be a phone call away from each other, but no longer within a short driving distance or even the same state. All too soon there will be careers and babies, husbands and new homes, new friends, successes and failures - and they will not be there to share them.
But on this sunny afternoon they are still just girls, consciously holding on to this carefree moment. Knowing they cannot keep it, that it is drifting away from them while their toes are wiggling and the music is playing. There is just a sliver of sunlight still visible on the carpet and they are still quietly watching this palpable marching of time, willing it to stop for them just for a moment.
Lovely. Just lovely.
Posted by: Bookgirl | September 04, 2007 at 11:35 AM
O, I love you, too.
I miss those days.
Posted by: Polly Poppins | September 05, 2007 at 12:09 PM
Spill the beans. Who's the hair twirler? I'm an obsessive hair twirler!
Posted by: Liz | September 08, 2007 at 12:59 AM
Liz - I would venture to say that at times, all three of us twirl our hair, probably Bookgirl most of all. But here, in my picture, it's me running my fingers through Polly's hair.
Posted by: Diosa | September 08, 2007 at 10:11 PM