Theoretically, summer will return to the polar-vortex-battered Northern Hemisphere. What are you looking forward to doing this summer? If you’re in the Southern Hemisphere, what are your fondest memories of Summer past?
First day of school at LA High. Fredo was sitting in his English class, third period. He had managed to snag a desk right behind Angie Perez and he could smell the scent she was wearing. It was sweet, floral; he closed his eyes and smiled. Dreaming of Angie, while the teacher droned.
“My name is Mrs. Brown,” and she picked up a piece of chalk and chalked ‘Mrs. Brown’ on the blackboard. “We’re going to jump right into it here. Everyone get your notebooks and pens. Today we are going to write. You are going to write a composition. You will title your composition ‘What I Did on My Summer Vacation’.” She chalked that on the board just below her name. “Write until the bell rings then leave your paper with me.” Glancing at the clock she said, “Looks like you have about 45 minutes.”
Fredo’s jaw dropped. Did she really want him to write about what he did on his summer vacation? “Come on.” He said under his breath dragging out the ‘on’ so it sounded more like ‘come ahhhhhhnnnnn’.
Angie turned around and gave him the stink eye. He waved and put on his best ‘contrite’ face. He thought about doing the classic Cheech and Chong bit.
“On the first day of my summer vacation, I went downtown and looked for a job. Then I hung out.
On the second day of my summer vacation, I went downtown and looked for a job. Then I hung out.”
He quickly discarded that idea though because Mrs. Brown had probably seen it before, heck she was old enough that she might even have the original vinyl recording of it, and Angie wouldn’t be impressed. He wanted to impress Angie.
Fredo put his head down and began to write. He wrote about the intern position he had taken at the radio station. At his abuelita’s insistence, he had spent the summer working an unpaid job for the NPR affiliate at the Community College. He had thought it was a stupid waste of time the entire summer but, now that he was writing about it he slowly convinced himself otherwise.
He began to realize that he had actually enjoyed working at the station. He began to realize that once his initial trepidation had worn off he’d had fun. When he was there, he didn’t have to pretend to be someone he was not. His supervisors and coworkers accepted him for what he was, Fredo. Pure and simple. Why hadn’t he seen this at the time?
He also realized just how much he had learned from this experience.
As he wrote, Fredo hoped that it wasn’t too late. Mr. Wilson, the program director, had spoken with him at the end of his tenure. He had asked Fredo if he was interested in coming back next summer but, Fredo had been non committal. He was being cool. What a fool Fredo had been, he thought to himself in the third person.
After school today he was going back to the studio. He was going to tell Mr. Wilson that he would love to come back next summer, if the offer was still open.
He smiled to himself. Angie Perez would probably date a guy who worked in radio!
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