Suzie slid into the booth, catching her dress on the edge of her heel. The fabric tore before she freed it from her heel.

“Crap!” The hole wasn’t all that big, nor was it noticeable, except to her. The black dress matched the rest of her outfit, and the spot was nothing more than an accent mark, similar to the other machine-fabricated tears strategically ripped out of the sheer fabric. Her punk-goth look wasn’t for everybody, drawing a lot of attention. Not that she cared about the negative attention. Her response was a typical ‘Whatever’ to anyone who cared to listen to her. But ripping this dress herself? On her heel? That was embarrassing.

“Suzie? You okay?” Her boyfriend, a well-dressed, preppy-looking borderline athlete, asked. Jim never played sports, although he was a fanatic of baseball and football. Not even their friends could figure out how the two of them ever connected. Jim’s friends didn’t like that punk look. Suzie’s friends didn’t care that she was dating a prep. But they thought she could do better.

“No, Jim. I’m not okay.” Suzie’s tears were a sign of her kind of day. First, she was told to change her appearance or lose her job at Hot Topic, if that gives you any idea of how extreme Suzie was. She didn’t embrace the punk look – she literally lived it. Her clothes looked lived in. Even the ones laundered by her Mother. Suzie’s Mom complained about the black makeup that seemed to get on each of her outfits. Mom was a supergenius when it came to stain removal. But the black mascara and lipstick? It was so hard to get out of nice clothes, those with any sort of color. Her white stuff, however, was downright a struggle to get the blacks to come free. Even some of her most successful stainfighters left a charcoal stain on the white clothing. “I’ll never be able to sew this back together. It’s ruined.” Suzie’s moods were always extreme in one direction. If she was up, she was really up. But if she was depressed? Only Jim could get her to smile when she was in one of her moods.

“It’s not all that bad, sweetie,” he said, kissing her cheek. “I could always buy you a new dress.” Suzie knew Jim had money, and lots of the kids she graduated from high school with said that’s why she was with him. On more than one occasion, he offered to purchase stuff for her. Things that Suzie would never be able to afford. But she didn’t want his money or the clothes it could buy. She wanted a boyfriend who looked at her, who saw her for who she was. Jim did that – most of the time. Even Jim knew she wouldn’t accept his offer because he had other girlfriends who would and did. That’s why he loved her. The money wasn’t that big of a deal to her. She glared at him through her blurry, watery eyes. “Or not,” he continued, miming pushing back from her.

“Gina told me I had to change my look, or I wasn’t welcome back.” Gina went to school with Jim and Suzie. She was the perfect student. Gina often would throw off the grades in each of her classes because she spent her free time studying instead of going out. The weird thing about Gina was her attitude about life after high school. Burned out on researching, writing papers, and being the goodie-goodie she was known as she decided to be herself. That meant dressing like a punk without taking it all the way. It was like she was a retail punk, spending her time mimicking other people’s looks and not taking on her own looks. So, she followed the pack instead of doing her own thing. Which isn’t what she wanted to do, but life after school is tough. So is figuring out who you are, which Gina hadn’t.

“Gina can’t do that, babe.”

“She’s the store manager, so yeah. She can.”

“No. I mean, Gina can’t tell you how to dress.”

“It’s part of the dress code for Hot Topic, so, yeah. She can.” Suzie was no slouch in school either. She and Gina often competed for the best grade in their shared classes, and Suzie won more often than she lost. So, after graduation, there was a little tension between the girls. “Jim, do you think she’s still mad about that last English project?”

The project was something every senior attending Aloha High School was required to complete. It was the biggest project of their young lives and a significant portion of their grade. Most seniors wanted to work on their projects solo, which Gina and Suzie both did. On the other hand, the athletes, the stoners, the goths, and even the cheerleaders worked together, knowing that the group’s overall score would be better than working alone. Three students completed their projects solo. Gina and Suzie, of course, and one other kid, Matt Horowitz. His real name, Matthew, didn’t have a kid-friendly ring, so he went by Matt every chance he could. Matt’s overbearing Mother, Linda, grew up in a Jewish community where heritage was everything, including saying his full name every chance she got. She hated that his friends, the few he had, called him Matt. She said that wasn’t his God-given name, and he was slowly killing her using the word ‘Matt.’ Matt scored a few points short of Gina and Suzie, Suzie scoring higher than everyone in the entire graduating class of 1989. Before the final project? Suzie and Gina were friends. After that? Well, to say that their friendship was fractured would’ve been putting it mildly.   

“Suzie, honey,” Jim said, snuggling up to her in the booth, “no one is that petty. Not even Gina. Did you think to talk to her about it?”

“No, because she’s being unreasonable.” Gina grabbed a cigarette from Jim’s pack that he tossed on the table. Sticking the smoke between her lips, she waited, knowing Jim would light it. And, just as anticipated, Jim pulled out a cheap Bic lighter and lit the cigarette for his girlfriend. “Besides,” she said, blowing a smoke ring, “I hate working there.”

“Suze, that’s a lie, and you know it.”

“What do you know, Jim?” she shouted. “I’m tired of being told what to do, what to wear, and how to act. Can’t I be myself?”

“Yes. You can, baby.” He pulled a smoke out for himself. “Just not at Hot Topic, apparently.”

The server walked over to their booth, seeing the two twenty-somethings hanging on each other, which was quite a sight. A prep and a goth-punk girl. It was a bit unusual. Then again, Darlene had seen many strange things through the years, including the bizarre but loving people she met while on tour with the Grateful Dead. Darlene was a lost hippy, floating through life and now, in her early fifties, waiting on twenty-somethings in the Aloha Shari’s restaurant. Her hair was long, with blonde streaks, reminiscent of those early Dead Head days. It wasn’t allowed, but she pulled her hair back with a rainbow tie-dyed scarf. Her manager, a big Grateful Dead follower, let her get away with the one non-uniform item to keep her happy.

Darlene had a reputation as a fantastic server, and even though she was a little airheaded, she was one of his better servers. “Can I get you guys some coffee?” Darlene looked at Suzie, who tried to hide her smeared mascara. “You okay, kiddo?” She slid her order pad into an apron tied around her waist. “Nothing is that bad.” She sat down opposite the couple. “Not even a retail job, like Hot Topic.” She reached out to hold Suzie’s hand, which Suzie let her do. Patting her hand, she looked into her eyes, saying, “Come on, honey. Let’s get you cleaned up.” Darlene pulled her hand, moving Jim with Suzie. “You can’t come with us, sweetie.” Darlene patted Jim’s cheek. “Even though you are adorable! You,” she said, looking into Suzie’s eyes, “are one lucky girl.” Darlene pulled Suzie into the women’s bathroom, leaving Jim holding his cigarette while Suzie’s smoke smoldered in the ashtray. “Don’t worry, sweetie. We’ll be right back.”

Jim sat back down, taking a drag from his Camel light, slowly exhaling blue smoke. Approaching the table with a coffee pot and two cups was the Shari’s manager, a dumpy little egg-shaped man. The tag clipped to his crème-colored button-down shirt read Earl. “Good morning to you, Jim. How are you today?”

“I’m doing good,” Jim said, taking another drag and doing his best to not exhale into the short man’s face. “Sorry about that.” If there was one thing Jim was known for, it was his polite way of smoking around other people.

“Not a problem, Jim.” He winked, pouring both cups of coffee. “I quit a few years ago. Doc said if I didn’t, the next time I saw him would be in the hospital. I took that to heart. You? You’re still young enough to quit. You need cream?”

“Yes, please. Thank you, Earl.”

“My pleasure. You two are the nicest kids that come in. You aren’t rude or disruptive. It’s nice to have kids like you come in. Besides, I can tell Darlene likes you guys. Probably reminds her of her days with Dead.” He wiped the sweat beading across his bald head, almost dripping into his eyes. “They really need to do something about the AC unit. It’s a bit warm, especially for Aloha.”

“Yeah. I can’t remember the last time Oregon was this warm.”

“You ain’t seen nothing, kid! I remember living in Georgia as a kid when the heat index would get up over a hundred degrees!”

“What’s a heat index?” Jim asked as Darlene and Suzie walked out of the women’s restroom. 

“That’s when the air temperature is hotter than the actual temperature because of the humidity,” Darlene answered. “In other words, the air temperature could be 85 degrees, but the heat index would make it feel like 98 degrees.”

“Nope. Not living anywhere like that,” Suzie answered. Her smoke burned out in the ashtray, so she put the butt between her lips, and like a well-trained dog, Jim lit it for her. Darlene watched this happen, impressed that the young man was attentive to his girlfriend. Earl walked away, checking on other tables as he left Darlene’s section.

“Wow. You trained him well, girl,” Darlene pointed at Jim. “What’s your secret?”

“I love her. That’s it.” Jim answered.

“He’s a keeper,” Darlene replied. “Don’t let him go.”

Suzie snuggled up to her man, putting her arm around him. “I don’t intend to.”

“So, what can I get for you kids?”

Jim kissed Suzie’s forehead. Suzie sighed, content to be in his arms. “Nothing for me,” she said, smoking her cigarette.

“Just coffee. At least for now, Darlene.”

Darlene smiled at the young couple, walking away from the table, saying, “Well, let me know if you need anything.” And before Darlene got too far from the table, she looked at Suzie. “You good?” Suzie smiled, nodding. Her makeup, now touched up by the older woman, looked impeccable. It’s almost as if she had her makeup professionally done. Suzie told Jim later that Darlene worked as a makeup artist for the movies in the mid-70s, working on films like Jaws and Taxi Driver. She enjoyed the work but wasn’t consistent, unlike waiting on people. Besides that, the people who came into the various restaurants where Darlene worked were more interesting than those she encountered on a movie set. And, she confided to Suzie some of the actors were downright rude. But Darlene never dropped any names, just those two films.

 “We can go somewhere else,” Jim said. “We don’t have to sit here.”

“Let’s just stay here. I like this place.”

“Okay, Suzie Q.”

She smiled. She always liked Jim’s pet names for her, but Suzie Q was her favorite. Her lips pressed against his, making her sigh again.