Wendi Callaway                                                                       Assignment 6

142 Alaska Street                                                                     Catherine Welch

Wills Point, Texas 75169                                                          July 15, 2002

WE 38646                                                                               About 1200 words

                                                                                                Readership:  13+

 

                                                            Remember Me

 

Amidst the bustle of students rushing to class, Brette stood in the hallway, frantically fidgeting with her cell phone.  Her frustration was mounting.  “Where are you, Kenny?  Answer the phone please!”  She hears two girls from her cheerleading squad giggling behind her, and glances at them sharply.  She abruptly closes the phone and throws in the backpack over her shoulder, and then heads toward the cheerleading room.  As she rounds the corner, she sees Kenny casually strolling towards her, fidgeting with his cell phone. 

            “Stupid phone!” he mutters to himself.  “What is wrong with this thing? I can’t even get through to my voice mail!”

            “Kenny!” she hollers.

            Kenny hears his name and looks up, still messing with his phone.  He smiles, calming replying, “Hey, Babe, what’s up?”  He stops to kiss her briefly on the cheek and then returns to fiddling with his phone.  Upon reaching his voice mail, he stops, “Finally!”

            “Where have you been?  I’ve been trying to call you.”  Still slightly frustrated, she moves to brush some lint off the shoulder of his football jacket.

            “This stupid phone has been giving me problems all day!”  He pauses, having not heard her question.  “I’m sorry, Brette.  What did you say?”

            “Never mind,” she replies, placing her hand in his.  “You are here now.  What are you doing tonight?  I want to go somewhere, do something!”

            “I’d love to, but you know I have football practice until late.  How about this weekend?  We could get together then.”

           

Callaway, page 2

Assignment 6

Brette lowers her eyes sadly, “I know you have football practice.  I was thinking that maybe afterwards, we could do something.”  She gazes at him hopefully, with a slight grin.

            Holding her hand tightly, Kenny answers, “Brette, Honey, don’t get me wrong.  I love spending time with you.  It’s just that, “ he pauses, “I am going to be so exhausted by the time practice is over and tomorrow is a school day and,” he pauses again, “I am sure you have homework or a test to study for, don’t you?”

            “Kenny,” she pleads.

            “This weekend, Sweetheart, I promise.  I will be all yours this weekend.”  Brette follows him around the corner.  The same two girls are still standing in the hallway, watching them.  Go home, Brette, study some more for that Chemistry test, so you can ace it and make me proud.”  He tries to pep her up, but she just looks away from him, frustrated. “Better yet, call Felicia.  Maybe she can come over and help you.  I have to go, Baby.  I’ll call you later.”  He kisses her again, and then walks past her.  Brette notices the two girls watching him and whispering something to each other as he walks past them.

            Brette glares at them, and then rushes out of the building to the parking lot.  Brette was a genteel girl of sixteen.  Her long, golden hair cascaded into swirls down her back and over her delicate shoulders.  Her oval-shaped eyes were the color of sapphires that sparkled and glistened in the bright sunlight.  There was a slight pout to her lower lip, giving her facial features an innocent appearance.  Her skin was of a deep golden tone, due to hours spent outside in the sun.  The big, soft curls of her shiny hair framed a smooth, silky complexion.

            Pulling into the driveway of her huge, eloquent home, Brette notices her father’s BMW parked in the garage.  She rushes in to greet him.  “Daddy, I’m so glad you’re home.”

            Her father, Jonathon, jolts up on the sofa, interrupting her, “Hi, Brette, I wasn’t expecting you home this early.”  He notices the books she’s holding.  “You probably

 

Callaway, page 3

Assignment 6

have a load of homework, don’t you?  I sure wish I had your energy!  It has been too long of a day for me.”  He lies back down in exhaustion.

            “Can I talk to you, Daddy?”

            Jonathon opens his eyes briefly to look at her.  “Honey, it has really been a long and tiring day.  Can it wait?  I really need to rest.”

            “Sure, Daddy.  You rest.  I’ll talk to you later.”  Jonathon doesn’t respond as she stands there for a moment, gazing sadly at him.  She then turns and walks into the kitchen, placing her books on the table.

            Suddenly, her mother, Shauna rushes into the kitchen past her, anxiously.  “Hi, Brette; I’m glad I ran into you.  I have a huge favor to ask.”

            “Yes, Mother?”

            “Well, your father and I have an awards banquet to attend on Saturday.  I just do not have time to find a babysitter for Krissy, and Ms. Jenkins is busy.  So, I need you to keep Krissy.  Okay?”

            “Saturday night?  I can’t.  Kenny and I were supposed to…”

            “Look, I don’t ask you for much.  If this didn’t mean so much to your father, I wouldn’t care, but it does.  I’m sorry, but you and Kenny can make plans for another night.  I cannot reschedule this banquet around you.  Now, I have to go to a meeting.  You will have to figure out something for dinner.”

            “Yes, Mother.”

            As soon as Shauna is gone, Brette walks back into the living room, where her father is sound asleep.  She lingers behind the sofa, watching him.  “I really needed to talk to you, Daddy.”

            The phone rings, breaking her trance.  It’s her best friend, Felicia.

            “Are you ready for cheerleader tryouts tomorrow?” asks Felicia.

            “I guess.”

            “I hear there is some tough competition this year,” declares Felicia.  “I’m nervous myself.”

           

Callaway, page 4

Assignment 6

“Don’t be.  You’ll do fine,” replies Brette, calmly.  “I’m the one who should be nervous.”

            “That’s ridiculous!” exclaims Felicia, “Everyone knows you’ll make it.  You make the squad every year.”

            “I don’t know.”

            “Wouldn’t it be cool if we both made it?”

            “Yeah,” she pauses.  “Sometimes, I’m not sure if I even want to be a cheerleader anymore.  Sometimes, when I’m out there, all I can think about is Kari and how she used to…”

            “Your sister?” asks Felicia, “She was a cheerleader, too, huh?  Before the accident.”

            “Yeah.”

            “I’m sorry.  If you don’t want to talk about it, I understand.”

            “It doesn’t hurt near as much as it used to.  I remember she was on her way home from the playoff game with Marshall that night.  She was riding in the car with some of her friends.  It was late, and everyone was celebrating our victory.  We had won the game and were headed for the State Playoffs.  Their adrenaline was rushing.  They must have been so anxious and excited.  Kari’s boyfriend, Steve, was driving the car.  I knew she was angry, too, because our parents had told her she couldn’t go to the victory party after the game.  Maybe she was being rebellious, doing things she knew they wouldn’t approve of, like drinking.”  Brette pauses as tears trickle down her cheek.  “The doctors told us later that several of them had been drinking alcohol, especially Steve.  With the darkness, and the storm, and the loud music…I can see that night so clearly, as if I had been in the car with them.  The music blaring, the smell of alcohol, the sharp curves in the road,” she hesitates again.  “The blinding light, the cliff up ahead, and the shattering glass.  I have nightmares sometimes.”

            “I’m so sorry, Brette.  I can imagine how it must feel to lose someone so close to you.  I know Kari would be proud of you though.  You’re smart; you’re popular; you’re beautiful.”

Callaway, page 5

Assignment 6

“I wish she was here.”

            “I have to go, Brette.  I’ll see you tomorrow at tryouts.  Okay?”

            Brette hangs up the phone and turns back to her father, who is still asleep on the sofa.  “I miss her, Daddy,” she whispers.  Brette turns and slowly walks up the stairs to her bedroom.  She glances around and then locks the door behind her.  Her hands are trembling as she opens the small drawer of her nightstand and pulls out a razor blade.  The tears are streaming down her face.  Hypnotically, she stares at the blade, slowly falling to her knees; her hands are shaking.

            “Brette!”  Brette hears her little sister, Krissy, yelling her name.  She quickly wipes the tears from her cheeks and places the razor blade back in the drawer.  There’s a light knock on her door and she hears Krissy’s voice again, “Brette?  Are you in there?”

            Regaining her composure, she opens the door to a little blond-headed girl with big, curious green eyes.  She smiles.

            “I love you, Brette!” clamors the little girl.  “I have no one to play with.  Can you play with me?”

            “Sure, Krissy.  Let’s go find something to do.”

            “As they walk down the stairs holding hands, Krissy smiles up at her and asks, “Can we play cheerleader?  I want to be a cheerleader like you when I grow up!”

            Brette sighs.  “Sure, we can play cheerleader.”