(c) 1991 by Martha Brooks
Marketed as an ordinary teen romance
novel, and in many ways it's simply that
. I stumbled on it when I was 13
, i.e. the beginning of my officially designated teenage years
. I reread it a few days ago and remembered what I was thinking then: I wanted to fall in love like that
, and, having just had my heart broken
for the first time, I was optimistic that my adolescence
would bring with it many more crushes and crushing defeats
, I would fall in and out of love
and come out wiser
, etc. Too much television
, I think, was my problem.
Now I'm 19
, i.e., the end of my officially designated
teenage years. Although I suppose all those things have occurred to some extent
, for the most part I'm still in waiting (perhaps am always looking forward to the next stage of life
). I haven't kissed anyone
in a lot of years. The more I think about this, the more I pity myself
, so shut up.
It's a well-written book, even if it makes me sad
"He probably thinks this new bathing suit
is the same one I usually wear. Maybe he doesn't know
that one is Roberta's - or maybe he thinks we own identical suits
. Which of course we do now, more or less
. But I love this suit
anyway, even if he won't look at me
in it. I love the way it feels so slippery and silky on my body."
"You can never hold anyone as long as you want
. It's a rule
that you won't find written
anywhere, but it's one all the same."
"Only a few days in that last year
able to rally around
and try to be like her old self
. My birthday
was one of them. I had to choose the day she died not to show her how I looked in that hot, thick, very expensive
with the white and red skiers endlessly crisscrossing a path
around the cuffs and waistband and neckline."