Creative Writing Unit 3
The irrevocable memory of the first time that Becca and I met A’ndrea is almost
impossible to write about. There are only a few laconic words that can describe
that moment and even the meanings of those words do little justice expressing
what we witnessed and felt that day. Becca and I had been staying in the city
with my mom who was busy hosting a convention during the day and unable to keep
a watchful eye over two recidivist teenagers all day long. We knew that normally
she woke up around seven and wouldn’t be back until six that night. So we
devised an inveigling plan. The next morning as my mom woke and began her daily
routine she tip toed around the hotel room cautiously as not to wake us two
peacefully sleeping angels, who truthfully under clandestine covers were fully
clothed and quivering with adrenaline. As soon as we heard the click from the
hotel door close, signally that my mom had left, we shot from our beds in a
fury, throwing pillows and sheets in every direction. We didn’t waste a second
to think about the approbation we knew we would never receive from my mom for
what we were about to do, nor did we think about the debauch that would fall
upon us if we got caught. We pushed these worries to the sides of our minds as
we raced up the busy New York City streets trying to get to Penn Station as fast
as our feet would carry us. Reaching the station, out of breath and nearly
hyperventilating, we skipped down the concrete steps two at a time. There in the
middle of the bustle we stone still in consternation. Which train did we take to
get to Massapequa? We whirled around scanning each chart around us that seemed
to change every time we blinked. Suddenly a voice boomed over the intercom “Last
call for Long Island bound train to Massapequa, Track 7.” Becca and I looked at
each other and smiled. We grabbed each other’s hand as we flew down into the
terminal and on to the train as the doors quickly shut behind us. The lengthy
ride ahead of us left us with plenty of time to commiserate over the punishments
we knew my mom would exacerbate us with if she knew what we were up to. But as
the train finally slowed and pulled into Massapequa every worry we had was
washed away as we stepped off the train and ran straight for A’ndrea’s open arms
as she stood there waiting for us like an angel with a sanguine smile on her
face.