The Summers We Were Sixteen: Part II

Didn't you just love Rogue's post about her 16th summer? The fact that she used the word temerity alone, really impressed me. So much so, that I had to look it up. For your enjoyment, here is an account of Lady Jane's summer she turned 16, exactly 14 years ago today!


Lady

Sunday! My 16th birthday fell on a Sunday. And I thought the universe couldn't be crueler. I couldn't date until I turned sixteen anyway and it was just the shard of glass on top of the cake that it fell on a Sunday, a day my family went to church and not much else. 

The only glorious gift given to me by the universe was that it rained. A good, long rain. I grew up in the desert and the simple act of condensation falling to the ground lifted my spirits. 

I didn't even have the fortune of looking forward to getting my driver's license either. There's no one to blame but myself (or maybe the girl that caused a car accident I was in just before my 15th birthday). I wasn't in the mood to be behind the wheel when there were crazies out there who could run red lights because they felt like it. Not exactly the boost of confidence I needed or faith in my fellow driver.

I had a few close friends that I made from being in choir at high school for the last couple of years that I wanted to invite over for my sweet sixteen. I might have been a little over-zealous at my definition of "a few close friends" because when I invited 20 or so kids, only four showed up. I was too depressed to even be happy that those four cared enough to be there for me. 

When I did finally have my first date, I had a blast! I went with a boy I was friends with (no romantic inklings whatsoever, the best kind of date when you're starting out) and we grabbed some pizza with two other couples and went back to my date's house to play relay ping pong. I think that's what it's called, where you race around the table and you can only hit the ball once. Then we finished the night off with a showing of "The Princess Bride". In all, not a shabby first date if I do say so. 


Stay tuned for our next installment of The Summers We Were Sixteen! 

The Summers We Were Sixteen

The word itself almost seems magical. The days are longer, the nights pleasant (depending on where you grew up). But the most magical summers would have to be at the age of sixteen. Licenses are distributed, dating more often (again, depending on how you grew up), your friends are the most important people on the planet, I could go on but I won't. It's Rogue's turn to divulge details on the summer she turned sixteen. For many of the Typelings, it has been over a decade since those treasured years. So come along with us as we scrounge through our attics of teenagerdom and find some buried gems.


Rogue

The summer I turned 16 was a momentous one for me. I remember late-night cruises down empty highways, hanging out of a sunroof and screaming for the joy of the wind in my hair. I remember sneaking in and out of windows, evading curfews and parental interference, stargazing on rooftops, climbing trees and fences alike, and crushing hard core on a different cute boy every week.

I remember my first kiss, crouching in a nest of shrubbery at the edge of a park in the dead of night, the temerity of the moment, the pounding of my hear and the flushing of my face, the feel of gravel pressing into my ankles. I remember hours of hand holding, his palm calloused and sweaty against mine, and how every second seemed both desperate and eternal.

That summer was the first time I ever heard the words "I love you", and the first time I returned the sentiment-the first time I really thought I meant it. 

It was a summer of blistering heat, of reckless bliss, of raucous  friendship, teenage rebellion, and budding romance. It was the high point of my youth, a time I will always treasure.