DISCLAIMER: No, my dears, the newsies in this story don't belong to me
unfortunately. I mean, c'mon now, I'd be doing better things with them if
they did. *snickers* Anywho, Nicollet belongs to me if you really care that
much. So here's my disclaimer, please don't sue me. Taco Bell and Chik-fil-
a are not mine either, and neither is Wendy's. Enjoy the show.
A.N.: Present day and no accents. My first of this kind. Hope ya like! OoOgles, this story is dedicated to my old time TV neighbor, Mr. Rogers, who passed away Tuesday night at the age of 74. Rest in Peace, buddy boy, and enjoy the bigger neighborhood above!
*Confessions*
Nicollet had first met Merryll Conlon and his unruly band of juvenile misfits in sixth grade, the year in which homework was a fabled creature of high school tales and peer pressure meant whether you would dare accept your desk mate's challenge of chewing gum in class or not. They weren't the most popular amongst the masses and perhaps that's why they fit together so well, misshapen pieces of a jigsaw puzzle that had not united until now. The girl had to admit that when she first saw Merryll, Jack, Anthony, and the rest for the first time those long years ago, the first word that came to mind was immaturity. But clad in dirtied jeans and a football jersey two times her size, she wasn't exactly what her mother deemed a well brought up lady and she knew the boys would be perfect for her.
By seventh and eighth grade, Nicollet's crew reached a membership number of eight youths, so that weekend gatherings and study groups turned into all out parties catered by Taco Bell or Wendy's. Herself included, the gang was not only made up of Jack and Anthony (having adopted the name Race because of his track records) from sixth grade, but now also recognized new additions like Marcio Myers (renamed Mush because he was much too shy around girls) Eric Fields (called Blink because of a weird obsession of his with wearing an eye patch) Shaun Hutton (rightfully nicknamed Snitch because of his leisurely hobby of pick pocketing) Ray Fedder (his alias was Specs because he wore a pair) and last but certainly not least-especially not in Nicollet's book of friends-none other than Merryll Conlon himself.
Merryll's nickname was a story all in itself. A few summers ago, he and Nicollet had found a malnutritioned, filthy Dalmatian puppy in the abandoned shed of a backyard. Consumed with the utmost pity, they took the dog back to Nicollet's house where they provided it with a cushion to sleep, cool water, and bits of hot dogs. After nursing the animal back to health, the best friends were enthralled by their success and conducted a list of possible names to give the Dalmatian. Nicollet's favorite was Spot and since it was her house in which the dog was residing, she got her way.
But tragedy struck six weeks later when a drunk driver sped down the streets of Nicollet's neighborhood during the hours when the girl walked her dog. Spot suddenly leapt forward in an effort to chase after a grasshopper, yanking his leash out of the girl's hands. Nicollet screamed out the dog's name over and over when the dread of the oncoming truck pierced her heart, and waving her hands wildly, she tried flagging down the driver. However, when the sound of a thump and yelp sounded in the air, the tears were already flowing down her face.
Her mother was kind enough to allow the youths to hold a burial service in a far corner of their backyard for the Dalmatian. Nicollet wept the whole time. "The worse thing about it," she later told Merryll, "is that I always wanted to have a pet named Spot. A friend that would always be there for me, you know?"
The boy gave her a sympathetic look, his green-blue eyes almost sorrowful. "I'm sorry, Nikki. But hey, you know what? I'll always be here for you. No matter what. If it makes you feel better, why don't you just call me Spot?"
The girl had laughed at first, but eventually she took his suggestion to heart, much to his misfortune, and soon thereafter Merryll was known to his closest comrades as Spot Conlon.
In ninth grade, Spot was an instant heartthrob as far as the high school female population was concerned. Everything about him was simply awe- inspiring, as if he were some celestial being from the heavens that had descended to their world to walk amongst mortals. The way that he walked, such suave urbanity. His eyes always beheld a sparkle that sent the heart aflutter. And that smirk, what concealed mischief! Jack also delved into popularity alongside his friend, though he sought solitude most the time. Or would have preferred solitude. The crowds of girls that would surround the tall handsome youth were outstanding. They would melt at his grins and stare for what seemed ever into the specks of grey stardust that were his eyes.
Nicollet had no such luck at winning over the opposite sex; she had no desire to. Still a rebellious tomboy at fourteen years old, relationships didn't interest her. When Spot and Jack were out rendezvousing with dates, she would seek the company of Specs, Mush or Race-the ones who still devoted the better part of their time to either sports or studies.
Tenth grade came and went, a piece of music that started as a calm whisper but one that crescendoed into a clamorous bellow of jealousy and anger. It had all started when Race approached Nicollet during school one day with unfamiliar intentions.
"Uh, heya Nikki," he greeted her, holding a Geometry book under one arm and a book bag in the other. "How's it rollin'?"
She smiled. "Race! It's going pretty good, you?"
"Actually, I wanted to ask you a favor." He shifted his weight from one foot to the other in hesitation and tried to avoid her questioning look. "Ya see, there's this girl in my class. Anna Rodriguez. I have a date with her tonight and I have this feeling she's going to want to kiss me."
"Are you serious?" Nicollet closed her locker door and let out a hearty laugh. "You have a date? Oh my god, is this your first?"
Race rolled his eyes. "Listen, I wanted to ask you a favor. I don't want her to think that I'm inexperienced in any way, and since you're the only girl I trust with this..." Nicollet arched an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. "Well, I wanted to know if you could teach me how to kiss."
"What?!" The girl was speechless after that one-worded question left her mouth. It was at that moment that she realized that she was losing her best friends to relationships-the one thing she appalled with all her being. When the bus brought her home that afternoon, she ran to straight to her house and didn't stop until she was locked within the confines of her mother's room. Seizing a clothing magazine from a vanity drawer, she skimmed the pages and made herself aware of the styles she was lacking. Still wearing clothing made in the early nineties, she suddenly felt a bit out of place.
So snatching her debit card from the top bookshelf where she kept it, she rushed to the mall and spent her entire three years savings on a new wardrobe, complete with countless outfits, shoes, and accessories. Her hair was another matter, a tangled mass of brown waves that almost made her look inhuman. For the first time in her life, she dared blow-dry it, and rather liked the results. Snipping away a few strands to give her side-swept bangs, she felt she was at last ready to win back her guys.
The next morning, with hip-hugging jeans sporting a silver chain belt and a red peasant blouse that adorned her like jewelry on a goddess, Nicollet had the looks and spirit of one who meant business. One could hardly recognize her as the female prankster who usually wore sweatpants and shirts that advertised music bands from the 60's. The girl was a bit taken aback by the attention, but reveled in the look Spot was throwing at her as she closed the distance between them in seconds.
"Nikki..." His eyes wandered her body up and down, taking in everything with what seemed delight. The girl had some curves, that was for sure.
"Yes, Merryll?" She emphasized his name with disdain and glared at him.
"You mad at me or something?"
"Aren't you a quick one," she replied sarcastically. "Listen, we're holding a meeting at my house, 3 p.m. sharp. You coming?"
Still trying to decipher whether her new image was only an illusion, he looked at her confused. "We haven't had one of those meetings in months. Why start now?"
"Because a few years ago, a boy named Merryll told me he would always be here for me, and it seems like nowadays he's abandoning that promise."
"Count me in," Spot replied with a smirk.
* * * * *
Snitch examined the glass structure of an angel situated right at the center of Nicollet's living room table and fought with the desire to shove it down the pocket of his oversized sweater. It was so beautiful, and he did need something for his aunt's birthday. He watched how the rays of light from above hit the structure and radiated off the glass as rainbows. Just as his hand reached forward to seize the object, Race and Mush entered the room.
"Snitch!" Race exclaimed. "I haven't seen you since eighth grade! I thought you had gone to juvenile detention for grand theft or something!" The boys laughed and spit shook with each other, a tradition that had first started when Spot and Nicollet became spit-siblings, mostly because they were too scared of pricking themselves with a sewing needle.
The young thief looked at Mush. "Heya Myers, still afraid of the girls?" Mush only blushed, for the answer was yes; he still was extremely shy.
"Make yourselves comfortable!" Nicollet called from the kitchen, soon appearing to the three boys when she brought out a bowl of potato chips and a six pack of soda. "There's more to come!" In the middle of her announcement, the doorbell rang and she left to answer it. She squealed with delight when she swung open the door and saw Blink standing before her.
"Blink!" Throwing her arms around his neck, they stood in a tight hug and then pulled apart. "You're not wearing your eye patch anymore!"
He frowned. "Mrs. Miller wouldn't let me wear it in class. She finally found it in my locker today and burned it. I was so pissed, I felt like slashing her tires."
"You mean Killer Miller! Ugh, I had her for Algebra! I hate her."
"Yea, well that makes two of us," he said, letting himself into the house. "So are the others here?" He stepped into the living room and grinned at the ones he saw. "Heya fellas, what's new?"
Nicollet smiled, her insides swelling with warmness at having finally reunited her friends after so many divisions and differences. "I'm going to check on the cookies I'm baking." She left again to the kitchen and looked all about for her kitchen mitt so that she might pull the cookie sheet from the oven. When she turned around to try another location, two emerald eyes met hers and she would have screamed had not a hand clapped over her mouth.
"Jeez, Nikki. Ya never struck me as the terrified girly type." Spot stepped back from her and smiled. "So, what does my little kid sister have to say for herself?"
"Oh, don't call me that. We're the same age, and for the past months you've treated me like anything but a sister. You don't even cast me a glance when I pass you by in the halls; you're too busy flirting with one of your many girlfriends to notice me anymore."
He shook his head at the exaggerations. "People change, you should know that. For example, what's up with the sudden change in wardrobe?"
Nicollet ignored the question when she found her kitchen mitt and set to saving her chocolate chip cookies from the scorching inferno of her oven. In doing so, she was reminded of the times in which Spot would everyday sneak into her house through the backdoor-probably as he had done this day- to spend a day of adventures and snacks with the girl. The doorbell rang yet again. "Could you get that for me?"
"Sure," he agreed. It was Jack and Specs; the last two guests had arrived.
The eight comrades reminisced as they lounged on the couches and consumed the foods Nicollet had prepared with vivacious hunger.
"Race, you still on the track team?"
"Still riding those horses at the stable, Jack?"
"How many girls ya got now, Spot?"
Only a collection of the many questions that were asked that afternoon. Nicollet sighed in content. This was how things were suppose to be; the eight of them reclined around her living room listening to their favorite songs and chatting like the childhood friends they were. "Everyone, I have something to say!" She stood to her feet atop the center table and smiled. "I can't remember the last time we met together and did something like this. We use to have so much fun when we were younger, what happened? Why did we drift apart?"
"Our personalities changed," Jack called out. "We're not the same people we were in sixth grade. It's not as easy as it was back then. There's different things we gotta deal with now."
"Yea," Mush agreed, his voice nearly inaudible. "Take me for example. How am I supposed to hang out with someone like Spot? I'm kinda shy and he...well, he's not. He's like, the most popular guy in school!"
Nicollet shook her head. "That's ridiculous! Back in middle school, we pledged allegiance to each other. We stood up for each other no matter what, even if it meant going against what the popular kids thought was cool. I don't understand why our priorities have to change just because we're in a bigger crowd now!"
Spot couldn't help but smile at her speech. True she may have changed on the outside, may have grown up some, but that exuberant aura that always lingered about her was still intact. She was still that friendly, outgoing, and somewhat crazy eleven year old girl he had met years ago, and he had to admire that.
"I agree with Nikki," he said, rising from the couch. "We made the rowdiest gang when we were kids, and there's no reason why we shouldn't hang out anymore. I say we make a pact, right now, to stay together through thick and thin."
Blink and Race looked at each other, shrugged, and then joined Spot at the table. They were followed by Jack, Specs, Mush, and a hesitant Snitch who still couldn't quite keep his eyes off that glass structure.
Spot held his hand out. "To the Brigade! May nothing tear us apart ever again!" Nicollet placed her hand atop his and the others followed her suit.
* * * * *
By eleventh grade, the ragtag assembly of friends was closer than ever. But while each member had rooted themselves in a particular genre of individuality and such, Nicollet had yet to find herself. During the past summer, at a retreat Spot had dragged her to, a girl name Lila had introduced her to punk music and Nicollet found that she enjoyed the rocking melodies more than anything. Having adopted the tunes for her everyday listening enjoyment, she was now into punk clothing. Baggy plaid pants with black straps hanging down the sides, silver-beaded belts, and interwoven bracelet bands were the items of only one of her many new outfits.
Jack once told her she resembled Avril Lavigne, though with a larger dose of femininity, for Nicollet rarely portrayed her tomboy side these days. As a matter of fact, she was rather flirtatious, more so with her closest companions-especially Spot and Race. She always spoke her mind when given the chance and she wasn't afraid to put someone in their place if she felt their heads were too high in the clouds.
"So what are we doing this weekend?" Blink asked once everyone had gathered at Nicollet's locker. "Wanna go see a movie or something?"
The girl combed her fingers through her hair as she gazed at her reflection through her locker mirror. "Mmm, not really. How 'bout we go to the fair?"
"Can we not?" Mush asked softly. "Those rides make me sick enough to throw up." Nicollet laughed and pinched his cheeks as if he were her little brother.
Blink groaned. "Listen, I'm going to miss my bus. Someone come up with something already."
"Calm down, Blinkie," said Spot. "Let's just hang out at the mall tomorrow night. I needed to buy a few CD's anyways and our dear friend Specs can treat us to a few drinks at Chik-fil-a."
Specs immediately objected. "Go to the mall all you want, but I'm not letting Snitch 'casually take' any more drinks from off the front counter. My manager almost caught me last time! Do you realize I can get fired?"
"Ya telling me I gotta actually pay for a drink now? Jeez, what kinda friend are you?"
Blink glanced at his watch and opened his mouth to say something but Nicollet cut him off. "All right, so tomorrow night, mall. Bring money if you think you'll get thirsty. Settled?"
The other seven nodded in agreement.
* * * * *
Nicollet was the last to arrive at her friends' meeting place in the mall, a bench snuggled between two imitation trees at the food court, and so when she saw the seating occupied she simply plopped down onto Blink's lap and smiled at the others. "Anyone up for ice cream?"
"Hey, check this out." Jack handed her a small magazine with cartoon characters on its cover. The girl began reading it until she realized the language, a collaboration of symbols and lines, was foreign to her. She gave the boy a puzzling look. "It's an anime comic book. We found it in the trashcan over there."
"And who was the brave soul that actually took it out of the trashcan?" They all looked at Snitch, but the accused was too busy scanning the mall for potential victims to notice. Nicollet nodded. "Of course."
"Merryll!" The group of friends looked up to see two brunettes approaching Spot with huge smiles plastered on their faces. Spot was instantly was on his feet and embraced the girls as if he hadn't seen them in ages. "Merryll, we didn't know you were going to be here! We would've worn something prettier."
Nicollet shared a disgusted look with Jack before bursting out in an explosion of laughter. The girls looked at the two seemingly offended but Spot assured them there was nothing to take offense of. As he continued talking with them, Nicollet proceeded to have her fun.
She grabbed Jack's face in her hands and sighed. "Oh Merryll, you're the sexiest beast alive. Please take me home with you and keep me up all night!" Spot shot her a death glare but she didn't see it because now she had jumped off the bench and was running her hands down Race's chest. "Oh Merryll, I just wanna rip these clothes off you right now!" The boys laughed hysterically as Nicollet went on with the impressions. The fun stopped when Spot ripped her from a hug with Blink and held her inches from his face.
"What the hell d'ya think you're doing?"
She wiped invisible droplets of spit from her face and glared back at him. "Gimme a break, Spot. Don't tell me you can't see right past those girls. They're fakes! They only want you now because you're popular, but once you fall down the ranks, they'll just go for another guy."
"Nikki, even if that was true, which it isn't, that doesn't give you the right to parade right in front of them and make them look like idiots. For your information, I plan on taking neither of them to bed!" He smirked and winked at her. "At least not yet."
Before she could slap him, he was off to see to the pair of girls who giggled when he returned to them and fluttered their eyelashes as if the speed of doing so would somehow magically win him over.
"Damn bastard," Nicollet muttered under her breath. She walked back to the others with an obvious pout. "It's starting already! Yay for him that he's all popular and crap but he was here with us first! If they want to hang with him, they need to schedule a date!"
Jack draped an arm over her shoulders. "Sounds like someone's awfully jealous to me."
She shoved him away. "Jealous?! Yeah right! You better take that back, buddy boy, 'cause I'm about fixing to give you a nice shiner!" She balled up her fists playfully and held them before her face. The taller boy, who was gifted with a height exactly one foot over her, lunged forward to grab her but she jumped out of the way and instead he fell to the floor. Doubling over in laughter, she tackled him down and wrestled him right there in the middle of the food court until an employee shooed them away.
"I'm surprised we haven't gotten kicked out of this mall by now," Mush remarked to Race with an amused smile. "As much schemes as Nikki devises to deem us the craziest delinquents ever born, they never ban us."
Race patted his friend's back. "It's 'cause we have charisma. Who's going to put out someone with a smile like this, huh?" He flashed his most dashing grin yet.
Mush blinked. "I would." He dashed off after Nicollet and the others, Race closely following behind, yelling threats to his friend.
* * * * *
The next day, Spot was studying over his history notes in his bedroom when his mother tapped on his door ever so lightly and announced that he had a visitor. "Send them in," the boy replied and a few minutes later, the door creaked open and in walked Nicollet with a small smile.
Spot raised his eyebrows at her choice of clothing, pajama pants and a tank top. Had he told the girl he was hosting a sleepover? "What's up, Nikki?"
"My parents are arguing again," she groaned. "They yell so much it makes the walls shake, I swear! And the things that they say to each other...it's so awful, ya know? They were talking about separating. I seriously think they're considering divorce." She collapsed onto his bed and sighed. "It really sucks."
"They're just venting, I'm sure it'll be fine." He rose from his chair and sat on the edge of the bed. "Parents are always arguing. You'd think that after being married for some odd number of years, you'd have something to argue about."
She clasped her hands behind her head, thinking of all the times that Spot had comforted her during similar occasions. She could always run to Jack or Race and sometimes even Snitch because he was easy to talk to, but most of the time, she found herself heading to the Conlon residence. It was like a second home to her. "Do you mind if I sleep over tonight?"
"What?"
"Sleep over. They're yelling so loud, Spot. You have no idea. It scares me, and if I hear another word..." she wouldn't say she'd cried. Growing up with seven boys as her best friends, it was nearly illegal for her to do such a thing! Besides, they didn't know her as the emotional type, the type in touch with her feelings. She was a ruffian, hardcore and rough around the edges. "...I think I might start punching holes into the walls if I hear any more!"
Spot laughed at the memory. When he had broken up wit his first girlfriend, Nicollet was the first person he called, and while on the phone with her he proceeded to punch his room walls until his knuckles bled. He could be quite temperamental at times, and it wasn't wise to provoke his wrath. "Sure, stay as long as ya want."
She climbed to her knees and hugged him in thanks. "Only for one night, I promise. My mom already knows I'm here and I told her I'd come back tomorrow."
"Okay. So I'll let you get some rest while I study downstairs. Make yourself comfortable, I probably won't join you 'til you're already asleep." He said his goodnights, turned off the light for her, and gently closed the door behind him.
In the dark, Nicollet climbed under the comforter of Spot's bed and snuggled in as if it were her own habitat. It wasn't the first time she had slept over, and it certainly wouldn't be the last, because for some reason simply being in his room made her feel protected.
* * * * *
Review if you want More. ^_^ Love Ya!
A.N.: Present day and no accents. My first of this kind. Hope ya like! OoOgles, this story is dedicated to my old time TV neighbor, Mr. Rogers, who passed away Tuesday night at the age of 74. Rest in Peace, buddy boy, and enjoy the bigger neighborhood above!
*Confessions*
Nicollet had first met Merryll Conlon and his unruly band of juvenile misfits in sixth grade, the year in which homework was a fabled creature of high school tales and peer pressure meant whether you would dare accept your desk mate's challenge of chewing gum in class or not. They weren't the most popular amongst the masses and perhaps that's why they fit together so well, misshapen pieces of a jigsaw puzzle that had not united until now. The girl had to admit that when she first saw Merryll, Jack, Anthony, and the rest for the first time those long years ago, the first word that came to mind was immaturity. But clad in dirtied jeans and a football jersey two times her size, she wasn't exactly what her mother deemed a well brought up lady and she knew the boys would be perfect for her.
By seventh and eighth grade, Nicollet's crew reached a membership number of eight youths, so that weekend gatherings and study groups turned into all out parties catered by Taco Bell or Wendy's. Herself included, the gang was not only made up of Jack and Anthony (having adopted the name Race because of his track records) from sixth grade, but now also recognized new additions like Marcio Myers (renamed Mush because he was much too shy around girls) Eric Fields (called Blink because of a weird obsession of his with wearing an eye patch) Shaun Hutton (rightfully nicknamed Snitch because of his leisurely hobby of pick pocketing) Ray Fedder (his alias was Specs because he wore a pair) and last but certainly not least-especially not in Nicollet's book of friends-none other than Merryll Conlon himself.
Merryll's nickname was a story all in itself. A few summers ago, he and Nicollet had found a malnutritioned, filthy Dalmatian puppy in the abandoned shed of a backyard. Consumed with the utmost pity, they took the dog back to Nicollet's house where they provided it with a cushion to sleep, cool water, and bits of hot dogs. After nursing the animal back to health, the best friends were enthralled by their success and conducted a list of possible names to give the Dalmatian. Nicollet's favorite was Spot and since it was her house in which the dog was residing, she got her way.
But tragedy struck six weeks later when a drunk driver sped down the streets of Nicollet's neighborhood during the hours when the girl walked her dog. Spot suddenly leapt forward in an effort to chase after a grasshopper, yanking his leash out of the girl's hands. Nicollet screamed out the dog's name over and over when the dread of the oncoming truck pierced her heart, and waving her hands wildly, she tried flagging down the driver. However, when the sound of a thump and yelp sounded in the air, the tears were already flowing down her face.
Her mother was kind enough to allow the youths to hold a burial service in a far corner of their backyard for the Dalmatian. Nicollet wept the whole time. "The worse thing about it," she later told Merryll, "is that I always wanted to have a pet named Spot. A friend that would always be there for me, you know?"
The boy gave her a sympathetic look, his green-blue eyes almost sorrowful. "I'm sorry, Nikki. But hey, you know what? I'll always be here for you. No matter what. If it makes you feel better, why don't you just call me Spot?"
The girl had laughed at first, but eventually she took his suggestion to heart, much to his misfortune, and soon thereafter Merryll was known to his closest comrades as Spot Conlon.
In ninth grade, Spot was an instant heartthrob as far as the high school female population was concerned. Everything about him was simply awe- inspiring, as if he were some celestial being from the heavens that had descended to their world to walk amongst mortals. The way that he walked, such suave urbanity. His eyes always beheld a sparkle that sent the heart aflutter. And that smirk, what concealed mischief! Jack also delved into popularity alongside his friend, though he sought solitude most the time. Or would have preferred solitude. The crowds of girls that would surround the tall handsome youth were outstanding. They would melt at his grins and stare for what seemed ever into the specks of grey stardust that were his eyes.
Nicollet had no such luck at winning over the opposite sex; she had no desire to. Still a rebellious tomboy at fourteen years old, relationships didn't interest her. When Spot and Jack were out rendezvousing with dates, she would seek the company of Specs, Mush or Race-the ones who still devoted the better part of their time to either sports or studies.
Tenth grade came and went, a piece of music that started as a calm whisper but one that crescendoed into a clamorous bellow of jealousy and anger. It had all started when Race approached Nicollet during school one day with unfamiliar intentions.
"Uh, heya Nikki," he greeted her, holding a Geometry book under one arm and a book bag in the other. "How's it rollin'?"
She smiled. "Race! It's going pretty good, you?"
"Actually, I wanted to ask you a favor." He shifted his weight from one foot to the other in hesitation and tried to avoid her questioning look. "Ya see, there's this girl in my class. Anna Rodriguez. I have a date with her tonight and I have this feeling she's going to want to kiss me."
"Are you serious?" Nicollet closed her locker door and let out a hearty laugh. "You have a date? Oh my god, is this your first?"
Race rolled his eyes. "Listen, I wanted to ask you a favor. I don't want her to think that I'm inexperienced in any way, and since you're the only girl I trust with this..." Nicollet arched an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. "Well, I wanted to know if you could teach me how to kiss."
"What?!" The girl was speechless after that one-worded question left her mouth. It was at that moment that she realized that she was losing her best friends to relationships-the one thing she appalled with all her being. When the bus brought her home that afternoon, she ran to straight to her house and didn't stop until she was locked within the confines of her mother's room. Seizing a clothing magazine from a vanity drawer, she skimmed the pages and made herself aware of the styles she was lacking. Still wearing clothing made in the early nineties, she suddenly felt a bit out of place.
So snatching her debit card from the top bookshelf where she kept it, she rushed to the mall and spent her entire three years savings on a new wardrobe, complete with countless outfits, shoes, and accessories. Her hair was another matter, a tangled mass of brown waves that almost made her look inhuman. For the first time in her life, she dared blow-dry it, and rather liked the results. Snipping away a few strands to give her side-swept bangs, she felt she was at last ready to win back her guys.
The next morning, with hip-hugging jeans sporting a silver chain belt and a red peasant blouse that adorned her like jewelry on a goddess, Nicollet had the looks and spirit of one who meant business. One could hardly recognize her as the female prankster who usually wore sweatpants and shirts that advertised music bands from the 60's. The girl was a bit taken aback by the attention, but reveled in the look Spot was throwing at her as she closed the distance between them in seconds.
"Nikki..." His eyes wandered her body up and down, taking in everything with what seemed delight. The girl had some curves, that was for sure.
"Yes, Merryll?" She emphasized his name with disdain and glared at him.
"You mad at me or something?"
"Aren't you a quick one," she replied sarcastically. "Listen, we're holding a meeting at my house, 3 p.m. sharp. You coming?"
Still trying to decipher whether her new image was only an illusion, he looked at her confused. "We haven't had one of those meetings in months. Why start now?"
"Because a few years ago, a boy named Merryll told me he would always be here for me, and it seems like nowadays he's abandoning that promise."
"Count me in," Spot replied with a smirk.
* * * * *
Snitch examined the glass structure of an angel situated right at the center of Nicollet's living room table and fought with the desire to shove it down the pocket of his oversized sweater. It was so beautiful, and he did need something for his aunt's birthday. He watched how the rays of light from above hit the structure and radiated off the glass as rainbows. Just as his hand reached forward to seize the object, Race and Mush entered the room.
"Snitch!" Race exclaimed. "I haven't seen you since eighth grade! I thought you had gone to juvenile detention for grand theft or something!" The boys laughed and spit shook with each other, a tradition that had first started when Spot and Nicollet became spit-siblings, mostly because they were too scared of pricking themselves with a sewing needle.
The young thief looked at Mush. "Heya Myers, still afraid of the girls?" Mush only blushed, for the answer was yes; he still was extremely shy.
"Make yourselves comfortable!" Nicollet called from the kitchen, soon appearing to the three boys when she brought out a bowl of potato chips and a six pack of soda. "There's more to come!" In the middle of her announcement, the doorbell rang and she left to answer it. She squealed with delight when she swung open the door and saw Blink standing before her.
"Blink!" Throwing her arms around his neck, they stood in a tight hug and then pulled apart. "You're not wearing your eye patch anymore!"
He frowned. "Mrs. Miller wouldn't let me wear it in class. She finally found it in my locker today and burned it. I was so pissed, I felt like slashing her tires."
"You mean Killer Miller! Ugh, I had her for Algebra! I hate her."
"Yea, well that makes two of us," he said, letting himself into the house. "So are the others here?" He stepped into the living room and grinned at the ones he saw. "Heya fellas, what's new?"
Nicollet smiled, her insides swelling with warmness at having finally reunited her friends after so many divisions and differences. "I'm going to check on the cookies I'm baking." She left again to the kitchen and looked all about for her kitchen mitt so that she might pull the cookie sheet from the oven. When she turned around to try another location, two emerald eyes met hers and she would have screamed had not a hand clapped over her mouth.
"Jeez, Nikki. Ya never struck me as the terrified girly type." Spot stepped back from her and smiled. "So, what does my little kid sister have to say for herself?"
"Oh, don't call me that. We're the same age, and for the past months you've treated me like anything but a sister. You don't even cast me a glance when I pass you by in the halls; you're too busy flirting with one of your many girlfriends to notice me anymore."
He shook his head at the exaggerations. "People change, you should know that. For example, what's up with the sudden change in wardrobe?"
Nicollet ignored the question when she found her kitchen mitt and set to saving her chocolate chip cookies from the scorching inferno of her oven. In doing so, she was reminded of the times in which Spot would everyday sneak into her house through the backdoor-probably as he had done this day- to spend a day of adventures and snacks with the girl. The doorbell rang yet again. "Could you get that for me?"
"Sure," he agreed. It was Jack and Specs; the last two guests had arrived.
The eight comrades reminisced as they lounged on the couches and consumed the foods Nicollet had prepared with vivacious hunger.
"Race, you still on the track team?"
"Still riding those horses at the stable, Jack?"
"How many girls ya got now, Spot?"
Only a collection of the many questions that were asked that afternoon. Nicollet sighed in content. This was how things were suppose to be; the eight of them reclined around her living room listening to their favorite songs and chatting like the childhood friends they were. "Everyone, I have something to say!" She stood to her feet atop the center table and smiled. "I can't remember the last time we met together and did something like this. We use to have so much fun when we were younger, what happened? Why did we drift apart?"
"Our personalities changed," Jack called out. "We're not the same people we were in sixth grade. It's not as easy as it was back then. There's different things we gotta deal with now."
"Yea," Mush agreed, his voice nearly inaudible. "Take me for example. How am I supposed to hang out with someone like Spot? I'm kinda shy and he...well, he's not. He's like, the most popular guy in school!"
Nicollet shook her head. "That's ridiculous! Back in middle school, we pledged allegiance to each other. We stood up for each other no matter what, even if it meant going against what the popular kids thought was cool. I don't understand why our priorities have to change just because we're in a bigger crowd now!"
Spot couldn't help but smile at her speech. True she may have changed on the outside, may have grown up some, but that exuberant aura that always lingered about her was still intact. She was still that friendly, outgoing, and somewhat crazy eleven year old girl he had met years ago, and he had to admire that.
"I agree with Nikki," he said, rising from the couch. "We made the rowdiest gang when we were kids, and there's no reason why we shouldn't hang out anymore. I say we make a pact, right now, to stay together through thick and thin."
Blink and Race looked at each other, shrugged, and then joined Spot at the table. They were followed by Jack, Specs, Mush, and a hesitant Snitch who still couldn't quite keep his eyes off that glass structure.
Spot held his hand out. "To the Brigade! May nothing tear us apart ever again!" Nicollet placed her hand atop his and the others followed her suit.
* * * * *
By eleventh grade, the ragtag assembly of friends was closer than ever. But while each member had rooted themselves in a particular genre of individuality and such, Nicollet had yet to find herself. During the past summer, at a retreat Spot had dragged her to, a girl name Lila had introduced her to punk music and Nicollet found that she enjoyed the rocking melodies more than anything. Having adopted the tunes for her everyday listening enjoyment, she was now into punk clothing. Baggy plaid pants with black straps hanging down the sides, silver-beaded belts, and interwoven bracelet bands were the items of only one of her many new outfits.
Jack once told her she resembled Avril Lavigne, though with a larger dose of femininity, for Nicollet rarely portrayed her tomboy side these days. As a matter of fact, she was rather flirtatious, more so with her closest companions-especially Spot and Race. She always spoke her mind when given the chance and she wasn't afraid to put someone in their place if she felt their heads were too high in the clouds.
"So what are we doing this weekend?" Blink asked once everyone had gathered at Nicollet's locker. "Wanna go see a movie or something?"
The girl combed her fingers through her hair as she gazed at her reflection through her locker mirror. "Mmm, not really. How 'bout we go to the fair?"
"Can we not?" Mush asked softly. "Those rides make me sick enough to throw up." Nicollet laughed and pinched his cheeks as if he were her little brother.
Blink groaned. "Listen, I'm going to miss my bus. Someone come up with something already."
"Calm down, Blinkie," said Spot. "Let's just hang out at the mall tomorrow night. I needed to buy a few CD's anyways and our dear friend Specs can treat us to a few drinks at Chik-fil-a."
Specs immediately objected. "Go to the mall all you want, but I'm not letting Snitch 'casually take' any more drinks from off the front counter. My manager almost caught me last time! Do you realize I can get fired?"
"Ya telling me I gotta actually pay for a drink now? Jeez, what kinda friend are you?"
Blink glanced at his watch and opened his mouth to say something but Nicollet cut him off. "All right, so tomorrow night, mall. Bring money if you think you'll get thirsty. Settled?"
The other seven nodded in agreement.
* * * * *
Nicollet was the last to arrive at her friends' meeting place in the mall, a bench snuggled between two imitation trees at the food court, and so when she saw the seating occupied she simply plopped down onto Blink's lap and smiled at the others. "Anyone up for ice cream?"
"Hey, check this out." Jack handed her a small magazine with cartoon characters on its cover. The girl began reading it until she realized the language, a collaboration of symbols and lines, was foreign to her. She gave the boy a puzzling look. "It's an anime comic book. We found it in the trashcan over there."
"And who was the brave soul that actually took it out of the trashcan?" They all looked at Snitch, but the accused was too busy scanning the mall for potential victims to notice. Nicollet nodded. "Of course."
"Merryll!" The group of friends looked up to see two brunettes approaching Spot with huge smiles plastered on their faces. Spot was instantly was on his feet and embraced the girls as if he hadn't seen them in ages. "Merryll, we didn't know you were going to be here! We would've worn something prettier."
Nicollet shared a disgusted look with Jack before bursting out in an explosion of laughter. The girls looked at the two seemingly offended but Spot assured them there was nothing to take offense of. As he continued talking with them, Nicollet proceeded to have her fun.
She grabbed Jack's face in her hands and sighed. "Oh Merryll, you're the sexiest beast alive. Please take me home with you and keep me up all night!" Spot shot her a death glare but she didn't see it because now she had jumped off the bench and was running her hands down Race's chest. "Oh Merryll, I just wanna rip these clothes off you right now!" The boys laughed hysterically as Nicollet went on with the impressions. The fun stopped when Spot ripped her from a hug with Blink and held her inches from his face.
"What the hell d'ya think you're doing?"
She wiped invisible droplets of spit from her face and glared back at him. "Gimme a break, Spot. Don't tell me you can't see right past those girls. They're fakes! They only want you now because you're popular, but once you fall down the ranks, they'll just go for another guy."
"Nikki, even if that was true, which it isn't, that doesn't give you the right to parade right in front of them and make them look like idiots. For your information, I plan on taking neither of them to bed!" He smirked and winked at her. "At least not yet."
Before she could slap him, he was off to see to the pair of girls who giggled when he returned to them and fluttered their eyelashes as if the speed of doing so would somehow magically win him over.
"Damn bastard," Nicollet muttered under her breath. She walked back to the others with an obvious pout. "It's starting already! Yay for him that he's all popular and crap but he was here with us first! If they want to hang with him, they need to schedule a date!"
Jack draped an arm over her shoulders. "Sounds like someone's awfully jealous to me."
She shoved him away. "Jealous?! Yeah right! You better take that back, buddy boy, 'cause I'm about fixing to give you a nice shiner!" She balled up her fists playfully and held them before her face. The taller boy, who was gifted with a height exactly one foot over her, lunged forward to grab her but she jumped out of the way and instead he fell to the floor. Doubling over in laughter, she tackled him down and wrestled him right there in the middle of the food court until an employee shooed them away.
"I'm surprised we haven't gotten kicked out of this mall by now," Mush remarked to Race with an amused smile. "As much schemes as Nikki devises to deem us the craziest delinquents ever born, they never ban us."
Race patted his friend's back. "It's 'cause we have charisma. Who's going to put out someone with a smile like this, huh?" He flashed his most dashing grin yet.
Mush blinked. "I would." He dashed off after Nicollet and the others, Race closely following behind, yelling threats to his friend.
* * * * *
The next day, Spot was studying over his history notes in his bedroom when his mother tapped on his door ever so lightly and announced that he had a visitor. "Send them in," the boy replied and a few minutes later, the door creaked open and in walked Nicollet with a small smile.
Spot raised his eyebrows at her choice of clothing, pajama pants and a tank top. Had he told the girl he was hosting a sleepover? "What's up, Nikki?"
"My parents are arguing again," she groaned. "They yell so much it makes the walls shake, I swear! And the things that they say to each other...it's so awful, ya know? They were talking about separating. I seriously think they're considering divorce." She collapsed onto his bed and sighed. "It really sucks."
"They're just venting, I'm sure it'll be fine." He rose from his chair and sat on the edge of the bed. "Parents are always arguing. You'd think that after being married for some odd number of years, you'd have something to argue about."
She clasped her hands behind her head, thinking of all the times that Spot had comforted her during similar occasions. She could always run to Jack or Race and sometimes even Snitch because he was easy to talk to, but most of the time, she found herself heading to the Conlon residence. It was like a second home to her. "Do you mind if I sleep over tonight?"
"What?"
"Sleep over. They're yelling so loud, Spot. You have no idea. It scares me, and if I hear another word..." she wouldn't say she'd cried. Growing up with seven boys as her best friends, it was nearly illegal for her to do such a thing! Besides, they didn't know her as the emotional type, the type in touch with her feelings. She was a ruffian, hardcore and rough around the edges. "...I think I might start punching holes into the walls if I hear any more!"
Spot laughed at the memory. When he had broken up wit his first girlfriend, Nicollet was the first person he called, and while on the phone with her he proceeded to punch his room walls until his knuckles bled. He could be quite temperamental at times, and it wasn't wise to provoke his wrath. "Sure, stay as long as ya want."
She climbed to her knees and hugged him in thanks. "Only for one night, I promise. My mom already knows I'm here and I told her I'd come back tomorrow."
"Okay. So I'll let you get some rest while I study downstairs. Make yourself comfortable, I probably won't join you 'til you're already asleep." He said his goodnights, turned off the light for her, and gently closed the door behind him.
In the dark, Nicollet climbed under the comforter of Spot's bed and snuggled in as if it were her own habitat. It wasn't the first time she had slept over, and it certainly wouldn't be the last, because for some reason simply being in his room made her feel protected.
* * * * *
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