Class of 1983: A Young Adult Time Travel Romance

by Victoria Maxwell

  “A little light reading,” he said, putting his cigarette out in the ashtray.

  “Is that why you didn’t make it to English last period?”

  “You noticed.”

  Of course she noticed! He was all she'd noticed since she got here.

  “What are you reading?” she asked.

  So, Sammy Ruthven was a reader. There was nothing about him at all that suggested he was into books. She felt bad for judging him. Just because he smoked and had a cool car and skipped school didn’t mean he didn’t read books. He started the car and she was taken back by how loud it was.

  “Catcher in the Rye,” he said as he put his foot on the gas, spitting up dust. He sped past teachers telling him to slow down and sped right past Rochelle and Leigh who were standing by the gates. Peggy turned around to see the look on Rochelle’s face and smiled. Rochelle was pissed, and Peggy was in Sammy’s car and there was something just so thrilling about that.

  “Catcher in the Rye?” she asked raising an eyebrow.

  “Yeah,” he said, flipping into third gear. “Kind of a jerk book. I mean, the guy is kind of a jerk.”

  “You don't really strike me as the classics reading type.” As soon as the words had left her lips she wondered if she'd insulted him. She was relieved when he just smirked as he turned the car onto the main road.

  “Have you read it?” he asked her.

  “No,” she shook her head. “Aren’t you going to put your seatbelt on?” she asked, fastening her own across her lap.

  “You strike me as the classics reading type,” he said, ignoring her seatbelt question, but buckling up anyway.

  “I’ve read a few I guess.” Although Peggy was kind of bookish, most of the books she read were more Young Adult romance than literary fiction.

  “You can borrow it when I'm done. It’s Janet’s anyway.”

  “Oh?”

  “She thought I might like it, so you can just give it back to her when you’re done.”

  “Thanks.” He was lending her books? Even though it wasn’t his book to lend, it felt like he was lending her a book. This felt big.

  “Where do you want to go?” he asked.

  “Anywhere, as long as I'm home for six.”

  “What was it?” he asked.

  “What was what?”

  “The record you gave Janet.”

  “You noticed?” she asked smiling.

  The corners of his lips raised slightly. Peggy couldn’t even begin to consider that maybe he had noticed her.

  “Bryan Adams Greatest Hits. I like Bryan Adams as much as the next person, but Janet went totally nuts for it!” Peggy laughed.

  “Greatest hits?” Sammy looked over at her. Strands of his dirty blonde hair falling gently over his clear blue eyes. He pushed it back and it fell straight back over his face. Hair products obviously weren’t that well developed yet. Peggy sighed inwardly. He was so ridiculously gorgeous, no wonder she’d accidentally told him about the Greatest Hits record.

  “He’s got a Greatest Hits album already?” he asked looking over at her, instead of paying attention to the road.

  “It’s already out in Canada I guess,” she improvised.

  “Uh huh.”

  “Can I wind the window down?” she asked. It was kind of hot in the car and she didn't want to talk about Bryan Adams or Janet or anything. She was too nervous.

  “Sure.”

  Peggy had this. She knew how to wind down windows now. The air felt amazing on her face. She closed her eyes and smiled, not wanting to open her eyes in case she was going to arrive back in the present. She wanted this moment to last forever. The smell of him, the heat of his body next to hers and the feeling deep in her soul that told her this was it. This was her destiny.

  “Where are we going?” she asked as she opened her eyes looking out at the never changing desert landscape.

  “Since you’re new in town, I thought we could head out to the lookout across the valley.”

  The lookout? Peggy almost died right then and there in his blue Firebird.

  “You have a really nice car,” she said after a few minutes of awkward silence had passed.

  “Thanks.” He shifted gears, taking the car way faster than the speed limit. Peggy watched the muscles in his arm flex, she liked the way he rolled up the edges of his short-sleeved school shirt. He caught her looking and she looked back out the window.

  “I made it myself,” he said.

  “You made a car?” she asked.

  “Well, I put it together.”

  “Wow, really?”

  “Yeah, I've got a thing for old cars, and I found this old Firebird, a shell really. Me and my dad worked on it for about a year.”

  “That's so cool,” Peggy said, and it was. So cool. He made this car? She shook her head in disbelief, who was this guy?

  Another awkward silence.

  “What else are you into?” Peggy asked. “Apart from fast cars and reading the classics?”

  He laughed, his sexy smile lighting up his face. When he laughed, he almost looked like a different person, still sexy as hell, but less cool and brooding and more just, happy. He didn’t answer her question though.

  “Can we have some music?” she asked.

  “There's radio or some eight tracks in the glove compartment.”

  Eight tracks? She had no idea how to do an eight track. Surely, she could do the radio though. She looked down at the controls but had no idea. She nervously mashed at the buttons and hoped something would happen. He leaned over and began turning a knob to tune in the radio for her.

  “Valley FM, rock hits of the seventies and today,” an excitable male voice said. “38 Special, Asia and the Stones coming up in the next hour, but first, I think you lovers are gonna dig this one, it’s Foreigner’s big hit from a couple of years ago about finally finding that love you’ve been waiting for…”

  The track started and Peggy knew in that moment that this would be their song. She didn’t care how stupid it was to have a song with someone she barely knew. She just knew this was theirs.

  “I love the desert,” he said, lighting up another cigarette and resting his smoking arm out the window. She nodded. She loved it too. Even though she wanted the hell out of Santolsa, she didn’t really want to leave the desert. It was her home. As much as she loved the idea of an apartment in Brooklyn, as she looked out at the vast desert landscape before her, she wondered for a brief moment if she could ever really leave. Maybe Jack had the right idea about LA.

  The crackly radio continued to play their song and Peggy knew she’d never be able to hear it again without thinking about this moment.

  They took the turn to head up Salt Mountain where the lookout was. It was a beautiful view down onto the valley. Peggy hadn’t been up there in ages. She wondered why she had never taken Jack and driven up here and talked all night looking down on the only world they knew.

  They continued to drive in silence, the tension between them rising as the car rose slowly above the town. She wondered if it was between them, or if it was just all in her head. Maybe he just wanted to be friends, he was with Rochelle after all. Or if he wasn't, he was just days ago, but if she was imagining it all, why was she in his car?

  When they reached the top, he parked almost too close to the edge, making her nervous.

  “It all looks so different from up here,” she said looking out over the valley.

  Sammy opened his door and got out of the car, a cue for Peggy to do the same. She was kind of scared of heights, so she stood back near the trunk of his car, leaning up against the back door. He slowly walked towards her and with each step he took her heart rate increased. In the car they were in seats, they were close, but they were far enough away that they couldn't touch. Now there was nothing between them, just the dry warm afternoon desert air. She smiled nervously as he came towards her. He leaned up against the car leaving a small gap between them.

  “Look.” Sammy pointed up into the
clear blue sky at an eagle flying low above them.

  “Woah, it’s so beautiful,” she said as she stared up at it. She felt his body move closer to her so that his arm was lightly touching hers. She took a shallow breath. She looked at his arm, the strong defined arm that she’d been staring at for weeks was now touching her own arm. They were so close. Too close. She couldn't breathe.

  “Beautiful but brutal,” he said. “When two eagles hatch from the same mother the older one kills the younger one.”

  “Oh gross,” said Peggy, looking at the eagle flying powerfully over them. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?” she asked, cringing at herself for making that awful segue.

  “A sister, you?”

  “No, it’s just me.”

  They stood there for a while just watching the sky together and just as Peggy had finally begun to almost relax, her heart began to race again as she felt his hand reach for hers. Her hand was a limp clammy fish, but his fingers entwined into hers, strong and certain that she was going to return the gesture. Her heart beat hard. What was happening? Was this even real? Her hand was in his and her whole body was turning to Jell-O.

  “People are saying all kinds of things about why you ended up here,” Sammy said.

  “Oh yeah, like what?”

  “Lacey thinks you are part of a witness protection. Ben thinks you had some kind of traumatic experience. Rochelle thinks you just moved here to make her life miserable.”

  “And what do you think?”

  He shrugged. “I think you came here because you had nowhere else to go.”

  “You’re right.”

  “Santolsa’s not much, but it’s home. And it’s not everywhere you get a view like that,” he said, looking towards the sun dancing just above the horizon and moving his thumb across the back of her hand gently.

  “I do like it here,” she said. She’d spent a lot of her life wanting to get out of this town but with Sammy standing here by her side everything felt right and Santolsa suddenly seemed like the most romantic place on the planet.

  “Do you know what’s up with Ben?” she asked. “He kinda lost it the other night, I’m worried about him.”

  “I heard about that, I guess he just wasn’t on form.”

  “It seemed like more than that,” Peggy said.

  “It’s Nick I’m worried about,” he said, squinting into the afternoon sun.

  “Nick? Why?”

  “The guy could use a girlfriend that’s all.” Hearing him say the word ‘girlfriend’ made Peggy’s hand get a little sweatier, but he ignored it, and kept holding it and they stood like that, two sweaty hands holding each other, watching the eagle until it flew away. And when it did they still didn't move, they just stood together in silence, looking out over the valley and the mountains, lost in their own thoughts, watching the sun set over the valley, holding each other’s hands until Sammy thought it was time to get her home.

  Twenty-Six

  The Fire Station II

  The beefy bouncer took one look at Lacey in a particularly short white lace dress and leather jacket and let them all straight through. Peggy felt much more like herself tonight dressed in her own clothes. She was wearing a sixties style black and white polka dot dress and the vintage velvet heels which she was just starting to be able to walk in. Lacey had looked her up and down and told her she looked like she belonged in a museum. Peggy had looked Lacey up and down in response and told her she looked like she was about to get married to a drunk rock star in Vegas. Lacey had beamed.

  “Drinks?” Lacey asked as she flipped her long red mane in front of her shoulder and made a beeline for the bar.

  “I need a slash!” yelled Ben over the guitars blaring from the crappy speakers. He walked off leaving Peggy and Sammy standing next to each other, alone, for the first time since the mountain. The evening had not ended with a kiss, but a simple goodbye and “see you tomorrow at school”. But school had been the same as ever, Rochelle still followed Sammy around like a bad smell although he now pretty much ignored her. There had been a few knowing looks over plates of fries at the cafeteria table, but nothing more. It was just like Big Mick, she thought. He can hold her hand on a mountain but as soon as there’s other people around - nothing.

  “Do you want to get a table?” Peggy yelled turning to a complete stranger who had taken Sammy’s place. “Sorry!” she yelled again. “I thought you were someone else.” She shook her head and looked around. He was back against a wall near the bar looking so cool and confident in his faded jeans, black boots and black t-shirt, smoking a cigarette and ignoring yet another blonde in a tiny black leather dress, giggling, her hand resting on his shoulder. Blondes, he’s got a thing for blondes. Peggy put her hand to her own boring brown locks and felt both her ego and hair deflate. She’d need even more hairspray next time. Maybe a bottle of bleach.

  “Where's Greg?” Lacey shouted over the bar at Jonas, the gross bar guy, when Peggy finally caught up to her.

  “Not here tonight babe,” Jonas shrugged, adjusting the red bandanna in his long greasy hair.

  “Isn't he working tonight?” she continued, pouting. “He always works Saturdays!”

  “Not this Saturday. I heard he's got a date.”

  “A date?” Lacey squealed.

  Jonas laughed. “I’ll take you on a date babe, I'd show you a really good time.” He leered at Lacey across the bar and she stepped back.

  “Gross,” she whispered, “can you order?” Lacey handed Peggy a note and walked towards an empty booth on the side of the dance floor.

  “What can I getcha sexy?” he asked.

  Although he was incredibly disgusting Peggy felt an involuntary small thrill at being called sexy, stuff like that never happened to her. It was something that probably happened all the time to girls like Lacey, but not to her.

  “Two screwdrivers please,” Peggy shouted back unable to hide the smile the compliment had put on her face.

  “A smile like that'll take you anywhere babe.” He began to mix the drinks, throwing in way too much vodka and looking up at her every so often and catching her eye.

  “Got another one?” he asked as he put the drinks on the sticky bar.

  “Another what?”

  “Another smile?” He was so totally lecherous, looking her up and down like a prize pig. “I never saw a smile so pretty, not even your hot red-headed friend has a smile like that.”

  Lacey was the most gorgeous person Peggy knew and being compared to her physically in any way was stupid, but so flattering Peggy couldn’t help but smile again as she held out the cash.

  He put his sticky alcohol covered hand over hers and closed it, waving her off with the drinks. Peggy had successfully flirted for free drinks. She felt high, like she’d finally achieved some Cosmopolitan top ten womanhood goal. She floated towards the booth with her free drinks and a new confidence in her step.

  Mere seconds later though, she began to feel like nothing but a dirty skank who'd whored out her smiles for free drinks. She sat down next to Lacey and took a swig. She made a face. It was strong. Much stronger than the toxic waste had ever been. But maybe whatever was in a toxic waste hid the taste of the alcohol better.

  “Where’s Sammy’s drink?” asked Lacey.

  “I didn't know Sammy wanted a drink,” Peggy said looking right at him across the table but speaking as if he wasn't there. Why would she get him a drink when he hadn’t even spoken to her all week?

  “I'll go get you one Sammy,” Lacey said, about to stand up.

  “Thanks Lace. I got it,” said Sammy, putting a hand on her bare knee. The tiny gesture made Peggy burn with jealousy. Why was he was touching Lacey and calling her “Lace” like they were dating or something when just a few days ago, he was holding her hand? Maybe Sammy and Lacey had dated, Peggy thought. Had they dated? She couldn’t keep up with this group, maybe they were all just a bunch of swingers.

  “Did you ever like, date Sammy?” Peggy asked, one sip of the str
ong drink giving her the courage to ask such a loaded question.

  Lacey laughed. “What?”

  “Were you guys ever... you know? Never mind, I don't even want to know.”

  “We made out at a party once,” Lacey shrugged.

  Peggy felt sick and wished she hadn’t asked.

  “But it was years ago, we were like thirteen. I don't even think about it, Sammy’s like my brother now.”

  Peggy nodded and frowned into her drink.

  “Hey!” shouted Nick who was followed in by Rochelle and Leigh who were both dressed in opposites, Rochelle in a red skirt and black top, Leigh in tight black pants and a red shirt. They squeezed themselves into the booth leaving Nick standing up.

  Sammy returned from the bar with a round of drinks before they'd barely begun to touch their first.

  “Ben's having a good time at least,” Lacey said still pouting over Greg’s absence as she looked out onto the dance floor. Ben was dancing wildly with a short girl with short black hair. He looked like a giant dancing with her.

  “Wanna dance Lacey?” Peggy asked.

  Lacey nodded. “Watch our drinks!” she told Sammy.

  * * *

  Sometime later Peggy wondered when her screwdrivers had turned into toxic waste as she absently chewed on the end of her straw back at the booth. Sammy still hadn't really spoken to her, he was at the bar talking to some guys in biker jackets that looked kind of tough. She had lost Lacey to a cute blonde guy on the dance floor who seemed to have made Lacey forget all about Greg for half an hour, and so Peggy found herself in a happy buzz having a deep and meaningful with Ben.

  “Sorry about your game,” she said. “You were doing so well at the start.”

  “I’ll be back to myself next game.”

  “I know what’s going on,” Peggy said whispering.

  “What?” Ben took an extra-long swig of beer.

  “I know why you screwed up the game.”

  “No, no I don’t think you do Peg.”