Chapter 6

I fumbled with my camera, I had just received it, and wasn't quite used to it yet. It was the first film camera I ever had. Already though I knew it would be an important part of my life. It had was second-hand and a little beaten up, but it worked. Well, it worked if you remembered to turn the crank.

"Roger smile!" I called, pointing the camera at him, and though Roger graced the camera a quick glance, he did not smile. I furrowed my brow, and then it hit me, today was graduation. In a couple of weeks, I would ditch the town of Scarsdale for the school, Brown... Roger wasn't going back to school. I put the camera down, the crank still spinning slowly, "You sure you don't want to come to Brown with me?"

"I'm sure, Mark," Roger actually cracked a grin, "You gonna be a big time filmaker, taking all those shitty classes?"

"The classes aren't shitty!" I defended, "It's better than taking off to New York totally unprepared!"

"I'm no totally unprepared – just mostly."

"Well, that's so much better," I said sarcastically, "When are you leaving anyway?"

"Tonight – after the party." Roger said calmly

My jaw dropped, "What?" I almost shouted, "Tonight? I thought we had at least half the summer!"

Roger shook his head, "I'm leaving tonight, plus we wouldn't have the summer anyway, you'll be getting ready to go to Brown, and we're not even supposed to be friends any-"

"Do you even have a place to stay?" I cut him off.

Roger rolled his eyes, "Yeah, I do. As I was saying – before you so rudely interrupted me – I'm leaving tonight, I'm going to go stay with that guy who's almost a teacher, Collins, you remember him?"

I had to think about it, but I did remember. It had been the summer before eleventh grade, when Roger was still allowed to be in my company, my father was out of town, and so my mother had decided to take me, Cindy, and a friend each to New York City. Cindy had said she was looking into transferring to NYU and so she my mother, and Cindy's boyfriend Ted, were all on the tour. Roger and I were under strict instructions not to leave the building. "Yeah, he taught that class we slipped into last time we were in New York, at NYU right? We talked to him after he finished teaching the class, though he was only a student teacher..."

"That's him, we told him we wanted to live in New York City and what we wanted to do, and he offered us a place to stay," Roger reminded me, "So, I called hims last week, the space is still open, but it will be mine soon, it could be ours, you could come with me Mark. It's where you belong too."

"I can't," I sighed, a frown replacing the curious look on my face.

"Mark, you already hate Brown," Roger told me.

"I do not!" I protested.

"Oh yes you do, Marky, you can't lie to me," Roger said, "I can see it in the set of your lips. I can hear the disgust in your voice, and mostly I see the fear and dread whenever Brown is mentioned, in your eyes. You could come with me." Roger tried again.

I sighed, Roger was right, but I had to do this. I had to for my parents, well, for my mother at least.

"Mark, you're eighteen, an adult now, you don't have to keep pleasing your parents," Roger announced as if he had read my mind, "Speaking of which, have you even told you father that you're going to Brown for film and not for pre-med?"

"Not yet..." I cringed at the thought of telling him, "I'm actually supposed to be doing that right now," I said with a quick glance at my watch, "I guess I should get going, oh, Roger, quick warning, Maureen's going to be here tonight."

Ever since my first time sneaking out with Maureen, Roger had hated her. Their meeting had not been a pleasant one, with me walking straight through Roger's front door, Maureen at my heels, and as I climbed to the stairs to Roger's room, I knocked once and then entered. Roger was bleaching his hair, and looked ridiculous and so Maureen had burst out laughing. "This guy is your best friend? He colours his hair! Like a girl!" Maureen's outburst had not been tolerated by Roger, ever since then anytime Maureen came to visit and I told Roger he would say...

"Well, that's just fucking great isn't it? I bet she makes fun of me when we have to wear those stupid dresses and hats."

"Probably," I said, now actually heading down the stairs of Roger's house and to the front door, I called back to him, "I'll see you tonight!"

My father was sitting in front of the tv, flicking through the few channels lazily, "Sir, can I talk to you?" I asked, glancing for any alcohol nearby.

"Is it important?"

"Yes, very, it's about Brown." I said.

"What about Brown? You haven't decided to remove your acceptance have you?" My father became angered very quickly.

"No, sir," I said, "It's just... I'm not going to Brown for pre-med."

"You're not?"

"No, sir," I repeated, "I'm going for filming."

"Filming, huh? That's a shit career move," my father said, "In fact, I guarantee you won't even make it a career."

"Well, you're wrong, sir," I said quietly.

"What did you say, Mark?" he asked me.

I cleared my throat and spoke loudly and clearly, "You're wrong, sir."

The small town of Scarsdale, meant that the graduating class was even smaller. So, by sheer coincidence I, Mark Cohen, stood in front of Roger Davis. I sighed and Roger rolled his eyes, the procession of the graduating students was about to begin, and since Roger and I were fairly close to the front, it meant at least half an hour of sitting in chairs while the rest of the students walked across the surprisingly large stage, and that was the only beginning.

Roger was looking at me, rolling his eyes, when he noticed something I hoped he wouldn't. "Mark, do you have the beginnings of a black eye?"

I nodded, giving a non-committal shrug of the shoulders, "It's not a big deal."

"You know we pose for photos right?"

"Yeah, but I hate photographs of myself, I'm better in the background."

"Still," Roger sighed, "You're Mom's photograph is going to be of you in your stupid dress and hat-"

"Cap and gown," I corrected.

"Whatever," Roger continued, "and a black eye. That's not going to be something to frame Marky."

"Good, then hopefully she won't put it up, or pull it out of her wallet to show everyone, every five seconds." I said as the music started, and Roger and I made our way across the stage.

What seemed like days, but was actually only a few hours later, we were free to mingle with our families. Roger quickly disappeared as my mother, father, and Maureen and her parents walked to meet me. I looked at my mother, tears streaming down her face, and she quickly wrapped me in a tight hug exclaiming, "Oh, Marky, I am so proud of you!" she exclaimed into my ear.

"Mom, Mom, thanks, but I can't breathe," I said, struggling to unwrap her arms around me. My father was silent as he looked at me, but Mr. Johnson clapped me on the shoulder and said, "Congratulations Mark," and Mrs. Johnson cooed over how grown up I was. It was only then that I got my first full look at Maureen, I had thought she was stunning before, now, she was even more so, if that was possible.

She had grown a few inches, as had I though, but we were almost the same height. Her hair still fell to her waist in the reddish-brown thick curls, she had filled ou tin some places, and she knew it too. You could tell she knew it, by the clothes she wore. Her tight burgundy top, showed off her curves, and the tight fitting jeans added to her appeal. I noticed every guy she walked past turned to do a double-take, even the girls were glancing back, albeit unwillingly. But what I thought was the most attractive feature no one else even seemed to notice, Maureen's large dark brown eyes, sparkled with mischief and my heart flipped.

"Marky," she greeted, flashing a full-lipped grin in my direction.

"Maureen," I replied, choosing to ignore the irritating nickname.

"Where's the party at tonight?" she asked, and I understood that this was her reason for coming, the only reason she didn't fight to stay at her house in the next town over.

"Um, I'm not sure," I replied, I had just planned to hop into Roger's car the moment I could get away from my parents.

"I bet Roger's knows!" Maureen shouted.

"Roger?" My father said suddenly, "Mark doesn't hang out with Roger any longer, does he? Roger was a bad influence, bad kid in my opinion, always in that leather jacket."

Thankfully, I was spared answering, as my father went on a tirade about boys who don't listen to their fathers, little did my father know that Roger's father had been out of the picture for years. Maureen suddenly pulled me to the side, "You still hang out with Roger, right?" she batted her eyelashes at me.

"Yeah, I do." I said, quietly.

"And he'll know where the party is right?" Maureen asked happily.

"Yeah, he will."

"Well, then I'm coming with you," Maureen stated, smiling brightly.

"Um, Maureen, Roger doesn't like you."

"'Cause I made fun of him for bleaching his hair?"

"Yes," I replied, "That's the reason."

"Well, that's a stupid reason," Maureen pointed out and I had to agree, "He'll just have to get over it, let's get out of here!"

We walked over to our mothers and I said, "Mom, a friend of mine is having a party, and he just invited Maureen, can we go?"

"Of course, Marky," my mother said, "but first I have a present for you." She handed me an envelope. I said thanks without looking at it, then turned and ran through the crowd looking for Roger.

Maureen was on my heels the entire time, this seemed familiar. Finally, I spotted Roger's spiky blonde hair and leather jacket, his cap and gown discarded a few feet away, I tapped his shoulder, and he turned around, grinning and then that grin fading as he saw Maureen. "She's coming with us?" Roger asked. I nodded and he shrugged, and eventually we all hopped into Roger's car.

As Roger drove at break neck speeds and Maureen laughed wildly in the back seat and I feared for my life, I remembered the envelope in my hands. "Oh yeah," I mumbled to myself, but Roger heard it.

"Oh yeah, what?" he asked.

"Mom got me a present, I wonder what it is..." I opened the envelope curiously. "No. She didn't."

"Didn't what?" Maureen shouted over the roaring of the car.

"Get me tango lessons!" I cried, severely mortified.

Roger and Maureen both burst into laughter. But Roger managed to ask, "Where?"

"Community Centre," I said, and because Maureen was poised to say when, "A week starting tomorrow."

"Does it say who your partner is?" Roger asked, "It's about time you found yourself a girl, Marky."

Unintentionally, I glanced back at Maureen as he said that, and my heart flipped yet again. Then I began rifling through the papers in the envelope, my eyes widened and I groaned.

"Who is it?" Maureen screeched, leaning as far forward as she could.

"Nanette Himmelfarb." I said.

Roger began to laugh again, "The rabbi's daughter?" he gasped. I nodded, and then I heard a beautiful sound. Maureen was giggling, I looked back at her again. Her head was tipped back, her eyes wide and joyful, hair windblown from the extreme speeds, and her laugh echoed round the car, I had to get this on film. I quickly pulled the camera from it's spot near my feet, and filmed her.

Later that night, while Maureen was dancing with several boys, and I stood away near the drinks, Roger found me. He had a beer in his hand, and was winking at every girl he passed, "Mark... you like her."

"I don't," I started to protest, then sighed as Maureen held her hands high in the air and spun in a circle, "Actually, that's a lie... I do."

A/N: R&R!