{"id":2864,"date":"2015-02-05T22:34:01","date_gmt":"2015-02-06T05:34:01","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/annleemiller.com\/?p=2864"},"modified":"2015-02-07T17:42:30","modified_gmt":"2015-02-08T00:42:30","slug":"nailing-normal","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/annleemiller.com\/2015\/02\/nailing-normal\/","title":{"rendered":"Nailing Normal"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"\"<\/a>

Not Kevin’s F-150, but an artsy shot by David Marcu.<\/p><\/div>\n

Susan Sigler narrowed her eyes at me across the lunch table. \u201cWe saw you heading into New Smyrna Beach in Big Kev\u2019s truck Saturday night.\u201d<\/p>\n

I shoved a huge bite of peanut butter and jelly sandwich into my mouth for an excuse not to answer. If they got me to admit I\u2019d gone out with Keven McDonough I\u2019d be teased with both barrels. And it wouldn\u2019t be pretty.<\/p>\n

\u201cMiss Knox saw you too.\u201d<\/p>\n

Diana Knox looked at me and bleated a laugh. \u201cYeah, before you ducked!\u201d<\/p>\n

Embarrassment flooded all the way to the roots of my hair. \u201cIt\u2019s been fun, girls, but I gotta go.\u201d<\/p>\n

Susan called after me, \u201cYou haven\u2019t phoned me all week when you were washing dishes\u2014something\u2019s up!\u201d<\/p>\n

I tossed the crusts of my sandwich into the garbage and high-tailed it out of the cafeteria.<\/p>\n

That they hadn\u2019t wormed the truth out of me all week bordered on miraculous.<\/p>\n

\"saar-ex<\/a>

saar-ex<\/a> via Compfight<\/a> cc<\/a><\/p><\/div>\n

I plopped my books down on the other end of the cement bench from LeRoy Henry. His curly hair fanned from his head like a young Einstein.<\/p>\n

He picked up our debate from yesterday. \u201cMy point was, John F. Kennedy pushed supply-side economics and it plain didn\u2019t work.\u201d<\/p>\n

I rolled my eyes. We were in kindergarten when Kennedy died. \u201cAll I know is that if my stepfather got a tax break for his bookstore, he could buy more books, sell more books, pay more sales tax to the government,\u201d I said as if I had more than a clue what supply-side economics were.<\/p>\n

Half way through LeRoy\u2019s rebuttal, Susan and Diana race-walked down the breezeway.<\/p>\n

\u201cIncoming!\u201d I jogged past a bedraggled palm and up the stairs to Algebra II.<\/p>\n

Mr. Andrews handed back tests while the students buzzed about a senior who\u2019d streaked naked through the cafeteria\u2014that must have been what Susan and Diana were coming to tell me. Ray Stevens\u2019 hit, The Streak, <\/em>played in my head and I smiled.<\/em><\/p>\n

Mr. Andrews commented wryly. \u201cThere\u2019s the square root of Pi, and then there\u2019s education.\u201d<\/p>\n

Laughter bubbled around the room.<\/p>\n

His sense of humor was the spoon full of sugar that made the Algebra go down. He\u2019d boosted me from a C in Algebra I in Stuart to\u2014I peeked at my test score\u2014a low A.<\/p>\n

\"Photo<\/a>

Photo by Jeff Sheldon<\/p><\/div>\n

I wasn\u2019t the only one who adored him. The class planned to thank him with a bottle of the Jack Daniels he cracked jokes about.<\/p>\n

Across the aisle, James Karditzas snatched Sue Ellen Henderson\u2019s test. \u201cBat, you big dummy.\u201d<\/p>\n

Sue Ellen had earned the nickname \u201cBat\u201d by wearing a Batman T-shirt under her marching band uniform. The dreamy look she\u2019d been giving James evaporated. \u201cIt\u2019s a ninety-nine percent! Probably better than whatever you got.\u201d<\/p>\n

James held up his test and gave her a smug grin. One hundred percent.<\/p>\n

I leaned toward Bat. \u201cWe\u2019re doubling tonight, right?\u201d<\/p>\n

James didn\u2019t need to know our foursome included Susan and Diana.<\/p>\n

Bat blinked, trying to parse out what I was up to. Humor flashed through her eyes. \u201cSeven-thirty, Pizza Hut.\u201d<\/p>\n

\"Photo<\/a>

Photo by mensatic<\/p><\/div>\n

Sure enough, at seven-thirty the four of us sat around a table in Pizza Hut inhaling pizza fumes.<\/p>\n

What we hadn\u2019t counted on was the carload of boys pouring through the door\u2014boys we\u2019d yelled at through the windows of my mom\u2019s Duster.<\/p>\n

Not for lack of trying, but we\u2019d never picked up any boys\u2014until tonight.<\/p>\n

Diana\u2019s eyes rounded as she peered over Susan\u2019s shoulder at the scrawny specimens of manhood. \u201cWhat are we going to do?\u201d<\/p>\n

Always the logical one, Bat said, \u201cTalk to them?\u201d<\/p>\n

The boys elbowed each other toward us.<\/p>\n

\u201cPretend you don\u2019t recognize them,\u201d Susan hissed.<\/p>\n

I leaned back and spoke in a normal tone. \u201cSo, when I picked up Bat, her mom told us to always look underneath the car when we go to the mall.\u201d<\/p>\n

Bat shot me the stink-eye.<\/p>\n

I continued, \u201cEvidently, there are skinny men who slide under cars and wait. Then, whoosh! They grab you around the ankles.\u201d<\/p>\n

The girls busted up laughing.<\/p>\n

Bat kicked me under the table.<\/p>\n

\u201cI was serious. It could happen.\u201d<\/p>\n

Somehow we made it through our pizza, shooting furtive looks at the geeky guys.<\/p>\n

We piled back into the car, fairy-dusting giggles out the windows as I exited the parking lot.<\/p>\n

Susan sang, \u201cAnn and Big Kev sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

Diana shrieked, \u201cThey\u2019re right behind us!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTurn here!\u201d Bat barked from the passenger side.<\/p>\n

\"Photo<\/a>

Photo by dantada<\/p><\/div>\n

I swerved onto Palmetto Street.<\/p>\n

Susan spoke behind me, \u201cThey had to stop for traffic.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHurry! We\u2019ve got to lose them,\u201d Diana said.<\/p>\n

\u201cTurn right,\u201d Bat commanded. \u201cNow left on Live Oak.\u201d<\/p>\n

Five minutes later, with the boys a couple blocks behind, I yanked us from Magnolia Street, down Smith, and onto Riverside Drive.<\/p>\n

\u201cKill the lights,\u201d Bat said. \u201cFind a driveway and pull in.\u201d<\/p>\n

I followed Bat\u2019s instructions up a long shell path beside a dark house and wrenched off the key.<\/p>\n

\u201cDuck!\u201d Diana whispered.<\/p>\n

I clunked heads with Bat and she shifted away.<\/p>\n

A car crawled by and we sucked in a collective breath.<\/p>\n

The rumble rolled past.<\/p>\n

My cheek deflated flat against vinyl.<\/p>\n

A discussion on what to do next whispered around the car.<\/p>\n

Diana popped up. \u201cMy house! I live in the opposite direction from where the boys went.”<\/p>\n

As I backed down the drive, Susan said in her mom voice, \u201cSpill it, Ann. We want the dirt on Big Kev.\u201d<\/p>\n

I sighed.<\/p>\n

Even if no bottle rockets ricocheted around the cab of Kevin\u2019s \u201871 F-150 truck, conversation had flowed\u2014until I spotted Susan\u2019s Chevette puttering alongside Kevin\u2019s red Ford on US 1 and \u201caccidently\u201d dropped my purse on the floor. Three long minutes later, I sat up.<\/p>\n

\u201cThere was no kissing. We went to see Jaws<\/em> in Daytona, came home, and I\u2019m never swimming in the ocean again.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSee, that wasn\u2019t so hard!\u201d Susan said. \u201cYou didn\u2019t have make it a big hairy secret.\u201d<\/p>\n

Bat eyed me. \u201cSo, are you going out again?\u201d<\/p>\n

It had taken Student Government President Kevin less than ten seconds to figure I was ashamed to be seen with him.<\/p>\n

\u201cNope.\u201d No way could I have convinced him of the truth\u2014I\u2019d ducked because I hated getting teased.<\/p>\n

\"Photo<\/a>

Photo by KristianneKoch.com<\/p><\/div>\n

By the time we got to Diana\u2019s they\u2019d extracted the whole story, their laughter littering Fairway Drive. They promised to rib me the rest of my life.<\/p>\n

It hadn\u2019t been so bad after all.<\/p>\n

Later, as I trooped into Susan\u2019s bedroom with its queasy mix of purple walls and Cincinnati Reds paraphernalia, I couldn\u2019t help feeling grateful. I\u2019d finally nailed \u201cnormal\u201d at the tail end of sixteen\u2014friends, laughter, and a kaleidoscope of tiny teen dramas.<\/p>\n

I\u2019d dealt with divorce and Bat\u2019s dad died young. We prized normal a little more than the other girls who\u2019d grown up with two parents and gaggles of siblings. But they\u2019d face their own traumas in the trenches of life. I think we all wound up thankful for the slice of normal we\u2019d shared.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\"Susan<\/a>

Susan Sigler<\/p><\/div>\n

\"Diana<\/a>

Diana Knox<\/p><\/div>\n

[Note: Susan earned a BS in elementary ed and is a fourth grade coach in Volusia County. Diana works with municipal bond compliance in Central Florida. Sue Ellen, who earned a law degree, no longer gets called \u201cBat\u201d as vice president, US and Canada, for Habitat for Humanity International. LeRoy earned a BA in management, Masters in software Engineering, and an EdD. He is an information technology director in San Diego. Kevin has a Bachelor\u2019s in radiologic science and is a regional sales manager for a radiation monitoring<\/p>\n

\"James<\/a>

James Karditzas<\/p><\/div>\n

\"LeRoy<\/a>

LeRoy Henry<\/p><\/div>\n

company in Orlando. James graduated from West Point in electrical engineering and earned Masters in east Asian studies and mathematics education. He teaches high school math in California.<\/p>\n

At the end of the year our Algebra II class took up a collection, recruited an older sibling to buy the Jack Daniels, and presented our gift. If a black man could blush, Mr. Andrews did. To NSBHS\u2019s loss, the next year he moved to Spruce Creek High School.]<\/p>\n

If you\u2019d like to leave a comment below, share a slice of your normal.”<\/h3>\n

 <\/p>\n

\"Sue<\/a>

Sue Ellen “Bat” Henderson<\/p><\/div>\n

\"Kevin<\/a>

Kevin McDonough<\/p><\/div>\n

\"\"<\/a>

Ann Fetterman (Me)<\/p><\/div>\n

\"Mr.<\/a>

Mr. Garlon Davis<\/p><\/div>\n

<\/h3>\n

 <\/p>\n

<\/h3>\n

<\/h3>\n

<\/h3>\n

<\/h3>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Subscribe to my blog and get a<\/p>\n

\"Photo<\/a><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 FREE GIFT!\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Skating Into <\/em>My First Kiss<\/em><\/span><\/h2>\n

In the right-hand column, type your e-mail address in the box above\u00a0 subscribe<\/em>, then click on subscribe<\/em>.<\/strong> Whether swoon-worthy or Ben Stiller-awkward, we all remember our first kiss. Subscribe to my blog and chuckle over mine.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Related posts about New Smyrna Beach:<\/strong><\/p>\n

Friendless on the First Day of School<\/a><\/p>\n

Beached, Brokendown, and Blessed in New Smyrna<\/a><\/p>\n

Spoons, Nudes, and Tuna Casserole<\/a><\/p>\n

Too Much and Not Enough Testosterone for the Christmas Parade<\/a><\/p>\n

\u00a0A Couple of Kids Cobble Together Christmas<\/a><\/p>\n

Dodging the Day After Christmas Blues<\/a><\/p>\n

Swimming Into Forever<\/a><\/p>\n

Song For an Innocent Time<\/a><\/p>\n

Hippie In the Headlights<\/a><\/p>\n

Car Crash and Other Wrecks<\/a><\/p>\n

Five Minutes of Fame<\/a><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

Check out my New Smyrna Beach novels by clicking on the covers.<\/p>\n

\"Avra's<\/a>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Tattered<\/a>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Kicking<\/a> \u00a0\u00a0 \"The<\/a><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Susan Sigler narrowed her eyes at me across the lunch table. \u201cWe saw you heading into New Smyrna Beach in Big Kev\u2019s truck Saturday night.\u201d I shoved a huge bite of peanut butter and jelly sandwich into my mouth for an excuse not to answer. 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