I'll Be Here

thunderstorm pounds its angry fist on my window demanding to be noticed and I finally fall back to sleep slowly just as soft grey dawn light is washing over the sky.
                Mom wakes me up after ten and as she sits on the side of my bed and lazily brushes the hair from my face she asks me if I can babysit Aaron tonight.  She and Jake were invited to a fancy shindig over at the Royal Palm Resort at the last minute.  Jake thinks it will be a perfect opportunity to schmooze and gain funding for his program.  Myself, I highly doubt that the type of people that socialize at the Royal Palm Resort genuinely care about protecting our reef systems.  But that’s just me. 
                I send Alex a text around noon telling him that I am babysitting my little brother tonight.  We didn’t make plans and I don’t know if he’s staying in town another night since I didn’t ask.  I was afraid to sound presumptive. 
                My phone hasn’t even made it back to my pocket when it chirps alerting me that I have a text message.
     
                `           Alex: Can I help?
     
                I wasn’t expecting that and for a few minutes I don’t respond.  I’m thinking.
                The phone sounds again.
     
                            Alex: I understand if it’s not okay.
                            Me: No, it’s more than ok.  Come over at 6?
                            Alex: Sure. Want me to pick up chinese?
                            Me: You don’t have to…
                            Alex:  I want to
                            Me: Ok. Veg chow mein for me and cashew chick for Aaron. I’ll give you money when you get here.
                            Alex:  It’s on me
                            Me: I’m giving you money. Period.
                            Alex:  I’m not taking it. Period to infinity.
                            Me:  Lol. We’ll resume negotiations tonight.
                            Alex:  K. See you at 6
                            Me:  Perfect.
     
                Sometimes time pounces for me.  It whooshes by with the easy gait of a thoroughbred and I’ll look up at the clock and it will be hours later than I think.  Today is not one of those days.  Today plods along with the slow throb of a cold syrup. 
                I paint my toenails.  The color is called “Jazzy Night,” which is a deep purple mottled with silver glitter.
                I catch up on my homework.
                I call Laney.
                I explain to my mother for the second time in under an hour that Alex is just a friend.  She uses phrases like “back in the picture,” and “pleased as punch.”  Soooooo annoying!
                I sketch.
                I change my clothes four times, settling on a pair of dark skinny jeans and a capped-sleeve tee shirt. 
                I engage in a war with my hair.
                I lose the war. 
    Due to all the rain, the Florida humidity has reached a crescendo and a tube of straightening gel, mousse and pomade are all deemed failures in the face of Mother Nature.  My hair is a nest of writhing snakes.  I end up brushing the bangs out and braiding the rest of it to one side so that a single plait falls over my shoulder.  There doesn’t seem to be anything that I can do about the frizzy baby hairs that have exploded from around my face and seem to glow with haloed light.  
                I stare at the girl in the mirror.  She stares back.  A few weeks ago this girl was getting ready like this for another boy.  This brings an image of Dustin—of his dimple and his laugh.  I realize that the memory doesn’t sting.  Am I over him?  Is Alex really the cure—like some magic panacea?
                Part of me wonders what would happen if Dustin were the one to show up on my doorstep tonight instead of Alex.  I shake my head as if I can discard the residue of the thought like a dog shedding water.  I won’t let myself go down that path.  The nerves in my belly are already snaking themselves into knots and now is not