That Boy

We live in Westown, Nebraska. It's a small town, not far from Omaha. My parents say we are really lucky because we get the best of both worlds, small town life with big city amenities. Westown has an old downtown and a newer part up by the highway that goes through town. This little strip consists of your basic small town stuff: bank, bowling alley, ice cream store, and gas station. This is the area we cruise when there is nothing better to do.

Which is a lot.

Down the highway a little further are Joh

Tonight there is a party at Billy Prescott's house, and a bunch of the guys on the baseball team are going up to Joh

It's a small town, and if we feel like going out those are our only real options.

Actually, that is not a true statement.

I mean there are an infinite number of places we could go and things we could do. We just say that because we like to complain that there is nothing cool to do around here. I am assuming that other teenagers say the same thing, even if they live somewhere amazing, like Paris or New York.

The problem tonight is the boys aren't motivated to go home and change.

And personally, I have no desire to go anywhere. I love hanging out with them.

Our backs are against the windshield, and we are staring at the brilliant stars. It's a clear, warm summer night and you can see millions of them.

Oh. In case there are any men out there freaking out about Phillip's paint, please note that we are sitting on a blanket to protect it.

Phillip loves his car.

It's a very nice car, although I forget what kind it is. But since it's blue, I really don't care. I mean if you are going to go to the trouble of having a car, shouldn't it be red?

Red cars are so sexy. I am so hoping for a red one soon. I really want a red Mustang convertible, but I'm sure I will get something boring and reliable, like a four door something or other.

I keep hinting to my parents about a car. I turned 16, three whole months ago.

But they say they have taken it under advisement.

I'm pretty sure that means no.

We are just sitting here, spitting seeds and chatting occasionally.

That's one of the things I love about hanging out with boys. They don't feel the need to fill every second with words and talk.

Like my girl friends.

Sometimes they talk so much, it makes my head hurt.

Speaking of girlfriends, it's Friday night.

Girl's night.

I'm truly breaking a cardinal rule by not being out with them. I'm pretty sure it's written in our town's laws that Friday night is girlfriend night, and Saturday night is date night. Kind of like in the movie, Footloose, where there is a stupid town law against dancing. You know what my favorite part of that movie is?

Well, duh, it's definitely not the dancing. I love her red cowboy boots. I mean I know I sort of live in the country, but I don't own even one pair of cowboy boots. Someday, I'm going to buy myself a pair of red ones, just like the ones in the movie. Hey, they could match my red car!

Sorry. Where was I?

Oh yeah.

I sort of had to lie to Katie and Lisa about what I was doing tonight. I couldn't really tell them I was just hanging out with the boys. They would've given me a hard time. Besides, they were going to a party some Park boys invited them to, and I thought that could only lead to trouble. And since I'm lobbying so hard for a car, I have to be responsible. I have been very responsible lately and have not gotten grounded in four months.

Which is like a record for me.

And I'm really quite proud of this accomplishment.

Besides, even though it's supposed to be girlfriend night, all they want to do is go out and look for boys. Or talk about them. Why can't it be friend night, and why do girls think they can only be friends with other girls?

The only time my friends have any interest in being a boy's friend is when they have their sights set on him as a boyfriend. First, they pretend to want to be his friend, so he will notice them. And sometimes they even do become friends, but once they accomplish that, they will try to make him their boyfriend.

I don't get it.

Da

“What exactly do you guys do anyway?” Phillip asks.

“Usually drive around town and look for cute boys.” I reply.

Da

“Well, sometimes we go to other towns and shop for imports.” I grin.

“Imports?” Phillip questions, as he spits a seed.

“Yeah, that's what Lisa and Katie are doing tonight. Going to the party in Park. They're not happy with the current supply of boys here, so they're shopping for imports. Get it?”

“You know, I've heard them say that before, but I always thought you guys were looking at like BMWs,” Phillip says, shaking his head.

“You would.” I say, rolling my eyes.

“Girls are goofy.” Da

I shrug. I have no answer for that. Cuz she is. But she was seriously crushing on the cute third baseman from Park City, so she was hoping sparks might fly at the party tonight. And then, Neil will probably be history. Which is too bad. Neil is a sweetheart.

“So let me get this straight,” Phillip says wisely. “On Saturday night you go out with your boyfriend, and on Friday night you go out and look for your new boyfriend.”

“That pretty much sums it up,” I say. “Or try to see what your current boyfriend is up to.

You never know, he could be out with another girl. Speaking of that, Da

He shakes his head no.

“I didn't think so. But I understand because that's the thing with girls, you could tell them you're go

I don't say it because this is top secret girl knowledge, but this happened to Lisa recently. This older guy, she had been crushing on forever, talked and flirted and kissed her at a party, then offered to take her home. I tried to tell her not to go with him, but she didn't listen. And of course, they went parking, and she was a little drunk, and, uh, well, things happened. One night stand kinds of things. Losing her virginity kind of things. Then he never called. She has been beating herself up about it for weeks. So I'm hoping she will meet a nice cute boy in Park City to restore her faith in men.

“Whoa,” Phillip says, suddenly very interested in what I'm saying, “go back to the one night stand part.”

“Yeah,” says Da

I can't help but laugh at Da