When I was fourteen I was in the eighth grade. This meant Confirmation year. We were ready for our retreat. In the back of the bus it was Katy, Danielle, and myself. Danielle’s mother was sort of the head of the retreat committee. Katy and I were forced to go by our parents, who despite sending us to public school still wanted good Catholics. We were the CCD kids, the ones, public school. The Catholic school kids were cliqued together, tied by that bond.
Little did we know when they got to the public school they would totally be off the hook.
The three of us were in the back of the bus. Danielle was an ex-Catholic school kid, left because she couldn’t get along. Katy was sort of boy crazy, and then there was me, not even allowed to look at anything with testosterone. “I hate these kids.” Danielle griped.
“I think I would hate them too if they were my classmates. They keep talking about March for Life. Is this the time to tell them I am pro-choice?” I asked.
“No, after all, you would interrupt the convo about what flavored lip gloss should protest abortion.” Danielle pointed out.
We looked at each other and laughed. However, we noticed Katy was quiet and distant. Usually she was as giggly as we were. Katy was sort of the third in our little crew that day. Most of the time, she was up on the latest gossip, willing to dish the dirt on anyone if they weren’t in the vicinity. Out of the three of us, she was the most boy crazy. On the front of her green reading folder, in red marker she had professed her love to half the jocks, a few teachers, and I believe even Justin Timberlake. She had a lot of love to spread, therefore it was unfair to force her to make a decision.
“Are you okay Katy?” Danielle asked elbowing our friend.
Katy nodded and then looked out the window. I knew my friend and something was up. “You are lying.” I said.
Danielle and I nodded. It was true, Katy was lying. Something was wrong. “Guys, I’m in trouble.” Katy said. She seemed to be shaking.
We all knew her boy crazy ways were going to do her in. She wasn’t like our friend Justine who actually went a step further and slept with upperclassman boys. Katy was just a flirt. Most of the time it wasn’t going anywhere seeing that she was a little on the chubby side. Still, she was just going a little too wild for our taste. Yes, Katy even made her mother take the long way home so she could see a boy she liked take out the garbage from time to time.
But now she was in trouble. No wonder she had tuned out about our pro-life/pro-choice convo. No wonder she didn’t think the remarks about the lip gloss were so funny. Our friend was either about to go under the knife, become a teen mom, or give her baby up to a strange family. “You could always choose adoption. My cousins are adopted.” I said pointing out that I had two at the time who were adopted and were doing quite well. (These days I have six cousins who are adopted in all, but that’s another blog).
“April, this is not the time! You don’t even talk to boys.” Danielle snapped trying to keep it down.
Katy shook her head. “No, I’m not a slut like Justine.”
“We know you aren’t.” I said. “No matter what we are going to stand by you and be your friend.”
“Yeah, even if you go around school knocked up.” Danielle said. While it was a lousy choice of words it was true. Aside from trash talk when she wasn’t around amongst ourselves, we would be loyal and stick up for her when it came to everyone else. Such is the world of teenage girls.
Katy shook her head again. “Jesus Christ, this doesn’t involve sex. I am in big trouble though. Guys, I accidentally ordered a car on the internet!”
Danielle and I looked at each other again. This story had achieved a whole new level of nuts. “What?!?” We both exclaimed.
“Yeah, and it’s supposed to come tonight. It was last night. I had just gotten done watching MTV when I was on the internet chatting with Justine the Slut and this thing popped up asking if I wanted to buy a car. I said sure. Well anyway, I ordered a Range Rover. I gave them my address and everything. Anyway, they emailed me before I came here today saying that it should come at 5. Guys, I accidentally ordered a car and my parents are going to kill me!!!!!” Katy said. She was shaking. Out of all of her usual chowder head maneuvers this one certainly took the cake.
“What were you thinking?” Danielle asked unable to hold her tongue.
“I thought that maybe-“ Katy said pleadingly.
“She wasn’t thinking.” I said cutting her off.
Danielle, who usually yelled at me for being blunt, nodded. “Look, we will be back at the church at 6:30, 7 with traffic. Maybe your parents will have calmed down by then.” I said trying to smooth things over.
“Yeah, and besides, it’s not like your like Justine who’s sleeping with upperclassman girls. You could have always gotten knocked up.” Danielle pointed out.
We both nodded, but this was dire. Our friend had ordered a car on the internet. All day during the retreat it made things interesting, especially when the story spread. Inquiring minds wanted to know, what was she thinking? The answer was, knowing Katy, she wasn’t. Nonetheless, eyes were wide. The Catholic school kids, being extra savvy and born to be bad because they were so contained, suggested she blame it on a drug addicted uncle with bad credit. One even suggested that Katy blame it on this uncle and say that the uncle was using a line of credit in his name. Apparently his shady uncle had done this to his younger brother.
When we got back to the church, our parents were there ready to scoop us up. Katy’s parents were delayed it seemed. Maybe they were dealing with their daughter’s newest purchase, now a Range Rover on their front lawn.
As I rode home with my mom I told her what happened. I said, “Mom, Katy’s in some serious trouble.”
My mom laughed. “April, they need your credit card number so they can do a credit check before buying a car. I think Katy will be fine. Rest assured there is no car on her front lawn.”
When we got home, my mother walked into the TV room. Immediately she said to my dad, “Bill, I have a great story for you.” And then she proceeded to tell him. My dad thought it was the funniest story ever, and then they told any and all of their friends who would listen. Their friends all thought it was as funny as they did.
Meanwhile, Katy had no car delivered to her house. The dealer had called to make sure that the information was correct and to get a credit card number while we were on our retreat. Katy’s mother answered the phone, informed them Katy was thirteen and had no credit card let alone credit history, and promptly grounded my friend for one week from the computer.
Only in the cyber age could we have such a tale of woe.