Aly
February 6th, 1984
I examined myself in the mirror for the umpteenth time. All I could think of was how much of a disaster I looked. My hair was pinned with banana clips, and they made it stick out in such a way that it made me look a bit like a mad scientist who just had an explosion in their lab. My face looked a bit like the floor of the lab, except a hundred times more colourful. That's putting it quite lightly, to be honest.
I knew if my parents saw me, they would murder me right there on the spot. So with a wet piece of toilet paper, right in the middle of the bathroom, I wiped my face, smearing the makeup all over my face, making me look a little less like a disaster. While I was cleaning myself, I could hear my parents car from outside the house.
Uh-oh.
I threw a ton of water at my face and wiped it with Mom's towel. By the time I was finished, my mom's towel was horribly smeared. If she saw that, I was dead.
"Aly!" That was Dad.
My face was still covered with makeup, not a lot, but enough for my parents to know I was up to something. I started panicking right there on the spot. What was I going to do? If I didn't do something, I was in deep shit.
Quickly, I doused another piece of toilet paper and wiped my face, really hard. Again, I used Mom's towel to clean myself. While I was rubbing my face, a knock came on the door.
"I'm coming!" I threw Mom's towel onto the rack and opened the door. Dad was standing there, with his hands on his hips.
"We need to talk, missy. It's about your brother Josh." Dad pointed me to the kitchen and I meekly looked down.
"Thank goodness it's not about the fact that I went to Daria's and had a makeover," I muttered under my breath.
"I can hear you!" Dad had really good hearing. That has, and always will be, the reason why you don't whisper things you don't want him hearing when he's nearby.
That is why me and Josh were in trouble: me for the makeover, him for taking out a student loan. I know that doesn't sound like something to be in trouble for, even though you get debt, but me and Josh had very...
My parents were hard-working, and that's what they prided themselves in. To them, taking out a student loan meant that you weren't willing to work for what you wanted. I think that was one of the reasons my mom nearly flunked uni. Same with Dad. Both of them were a bit proud.
I suppose that showed in their kids as well.
Marco
March 30, 1984
"Dude, Jack, you actually pantsed Randall?" I shout. This is great news.
"Yeah," Jack says, with a huge smile. "In front of two betties: Aly and Daria. I accidentally pulled down his chonies. In front of them."
"Damn," I say, as my eyes peer over to Randall and Aly, who are talking to each other at the river. Everyone loves the river and the park nearby it, along with the swimming pool and the pedestrian bridge. That's why we come here when we've got the time.
"You wanna go up to Rands and Als and ask them about it?" I say. It's seems like a pretty clutch idea. I can already imagine the look on Randall's face when we mention the pantsing.
"Damn skippy," Jack says, smiling even wider. "Come on." Jack begins jogging to Aly and Randall, the longer side of his hair swishing over his shoulder while the shorter part just doesn't move. That's cause it's a little longer than a stubble. I run after Jack as he slows down to a walk, approaching Aly and Randall. I catch up with him as soon as Jack finishes saying this:
"Did you see Randall's dick, Aly? I know you and Daria lied about it."
Aly's face turns red as she opens her mouth to speak.
"I'm sorry! Daria and I lied to you about your dick because we were so embarrassed. It's a grower."
Jack, Randall, and I watch Aly run away, sobbing. We turn to face Randall, whose face is even redder than Aly's.
"Is it actually that small?" I ask. I feel bad for him not because he got pantsed, but because his dick's so small. No way he'd get a gal pal after this.
"Did you have to bring it up?" Randall says, his teeth gritted.
"Marco and I wanted to, as a prank," Jack says, throwing his hands up. "Don't have a cow, man. It's not a big deal."
"Bite me!" Randall shouts, as he walks away. Jack and I just watch.
"Maybe that was a bad idea," Jack says. A gale of wind blows in our faces.
"Yeah," I say, nodding. "Let's book."
Jack and I leave the park, with all of its little kids and tweeting birds, and grownups reading newspapers and smoking, behind.