BUT I DON'T WANT TO CHANGE

BUT I DON’T WANT TO CHANGE

“Why did Tommy have to go wierd on me?” Rebecca muttered under her breath as she attacked another pile of ‘stuff’. “He could be here helping me if he hadn’t wierded out!”

Rebecca, bent over pretzel fashion, was throwing things out between her legs like a puppy digging up a bone. The middle of her room looked like a trash heap. There was an old sneaker, there was a green sock, and her first baseball mitt. The treasures kept mounting up, and so did the pile.

“I really should have cleaned this out a long time ago,” she said to no one in particular, since no one else was there. , ‘then I wouldn’t have to spend all this time in here today!”

By this time Rebecca was in the back of the closet; there was hardly anything left in it. Over in the corner, under a pile of dirty laundry, Rebecca spied what she had been searching for. Her library book, and the other book. The library book was three weeks overdue, and the library had sent her mother a letter.

“Whew! I sure am glad I found this!”

When the letter had arrived that morning, Rebecca and her mother had had a long ‘talk’. (That’s what Mrs. Troutman called them; Rebecca had another name for them.) If she couldn’t find the book, she was going to have to pay for it out of her allowance, and her allowance was already earmarked for a new Oakland A’s tee shirt. (Rebecca loved tee shirts, and had drawers filled, but she kept buying more.)

Rebecca ran her fingers over the cover on the other book, and plopped down in the middle of the floor. “Maybe this will tell me what Tommy’s problem is. He sure is having one, that’s for sure!” About this time there was a light tapping on the door.

“Rebecca? Did you find the book yet?” her mother asked.

“Yeah Mom. It was right where I said it was. In the closet.” Rebecca didn’t realize she was holding her breath. She hoped her mom wasn’t going to come into her room. If she did, there was going to be another ‘talk’ about the condition of her room, and she just didn’t have time for it today! There was a practice session at the lot and she just HAD to see Tommy! HAD to be there!

“Well I’m glad you found it honey, lunch will be ready in a couple of minutes.”

When her mother’s footsteps finally disappeared down the hall, Rebecca let her breath goooosh out of her puffed cheeks.

Rebecca looked down at the book in her hands, and all the questions of the past few weeks kept running through her mind. What’s going on?! Tommy and I have been best friends forever. How come I feel funny around him now? We used to talk about everything. Tommy is the only one who understands how I feel about baseball; at least he used to, Rebecca thought. She wasn’t so sure anymore. Who was she going to talk to about baseball, bugs, and snakes and …

Rebecca tossed the book on the bed and picked up her baseball mitt and headed for the door.

***

Rebecca had read the book twice, and it still wasn’t making a lot of sense to her. Mom had gotten it for her when she was nine. She was 11 ¾ no. It was supposed to help her get through being a teenager, Mom said. But it wasn’t helping! All it talked about was hormones! Sure, it had stuff in it that would help her, but it didn’t tell her what was bothering Tommy. ‘She’ felt fine. What am I going to do? Rebecca thought. Mom said this would help, but it doesn't! Why do they have to keep talking about hormones? They don’t have anything to do with Tommy!

She lay back on the bed with her arms under her head, and her ankle crossed over her knee. Thinking.


Rebecca ran into the kitchen and plopped down in the kitchen chair. She put her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand, and sighed.

Mrs. Troutman was busy rolling pie dough out. She turned her head and looked at her daughter. Rebecca noticed her Mom eyeballing her, and looked down at the tablecloth, playing with the edge.

“What’s the matter honey? Wanna talk about it?”

“Mom, have I changed? Am I different now than I used to be?”

“Sweetie, we’re all different, we all change. We can’t grow if we don’t change.”

“No Mom! That’s not what I mean! I mean, well…do I ACT different?”

Mrs. Troutman wiped her hands on her apron, walked to the stove and refilled her coffee cup, then leaned against the counter. “Honey, yes, you act different now. You’re older than you were a year ago. You’re smarter than you were a year ago.”

“Mom! I know that! What I want to know is, do WE all change? Do WE have to change?”

“We’ll…it would really help me if I knew who WE were.”

“Well…me, Tommy, all of us! You know, kids.”

“Oh, now I know what you mean.”

“Well? Do we HAVE to change?”

“ ‘Fraid so, kid. We all have to grow, we can’t stay kids all our lives.”

Rebecca got up, and went back upstairs. She lay down on the bed again.

“Well, that didn’t help either. What am I gonna do? Tommy’s getting weirder all the time! Hmmmmm…maybe if I ask her about Dad that will help! Yeah!” She jumped off the bed and ran down the stairs two at a time. This time it would work!”

“Mom! What do you like best about Dad?!” Rebecca yelled as she came into the kitchen.

Caught off guard, Mrs. Troutman had a kind of blank look on her face. “Dad? Gee honey, there’s lots of things I like about Dad. What kind of things do you mean?”

“Well,” she said, “is Dad your friend? Tommy’s my best friend.” Rebecca was excited.

“Sure Dad’s my friend. We like a lot of the same things, and we like to be together, we like to just sit and talk. That sort of thing?”

“Yeah, but when you were kids, did he change too?”

Mrs. Troutman kind of smiled. “Uh huh.”

“Did you like it when he changed?” Now we’re getting somewhere, Rebecca thought.

“Honey, your Father and I didn’t meet until we were in college, we’d both already changed.”

“Oh.”

Rebecca started back up the stairs. Now what? She thought.

Just as she got to the top of the stairs the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it Mom.”

As Rebecca opened the door she saw Tommy standing on the porch. His head was down and his toe was scuffing at a piece of dust.

“Hi,” he said so low Rebecca could hardly hear him.

Rebecca came out on the porch, closing the door behind her.

‘Boy is this timing or what?!’ she thought to herself. ‘Now what am I gonna do?’

She walked over and sat on the top step, and so did Tommy.

They sat there for what seemed like hours to Rebecca, with nothing being said. Finally Tommy cleared his throat, and said , “ ‘Becca, uh…we uh, what I’m trying to say is uh…” Tommy was clearly trying to talk, but not much was coming out!

“Hey Tommy, who do you think is gonna win the next game?” Rebecca tried to make him feel better, even though she felt the butterflies too.

“We are of course!” Some of the color was leaving Tommy’s face, and he didn’t look like he was going to throw up now!

“Tommy, have you noticed how funny some of the guys on the team are acting? Rebecca kind of looked out of the side of her eye, trying to act like nothing was any different, but inside she felt like cold oatmeal!

“What do you mean ‘Becca?”

“Well, I saw Stevie holding hands with Monica Simpson the other day! Can you believe it?”

“Sure! Monica’s really cute! But not as cute as you are.” Tommy said this last part almost in a whisper.

Rebecca could just stare at Tommy open mouthed, and her face felt hot!

‘Oh no! It’s happening to Tommy too!’

Rebecca jumped up, ran in the house and up the stairs to her room – nearly sobbing.

‘Oh Rebecca’ she thought to herself, ‘Something WEIRD is happening to ME! I’ve gotta figure it out!’

Rebecca got off the bed, went to her desk for a pencil and paper.

‘OK, I’ll write HIM a letter, and ask HIM what HIS PROBLEM is.’

She plopped down on the bed, on her stomach, with her knees bent and crossed at the ankles.

Dear Tommy,
You’re totally off in left field lately! How come?

No, that’s not it.

Dear Tommy,
Are you crazy? What was all this stuff with me being cuter than Monica Simpson? She’s the prettiest girl in school!
Why she…

No, that’s not it either.

Maybe writing him a letter isn’t gonna work, she thought. Rebecca sighed. She picked up the pencil again.

WHY I LIKE TOMMY
1. He’s my friend
2. He sticks up for me
3. We can talk about everything
4. He throws a mean ball
5. He plays ball with me even if I am a girl

It was as if a light went on in Rebecca’s head! She finally knew what HIS problem was! SHE was a girl!

Rebecca felt like jumping up and down on the bed!

“OK Rebecca ol’ girl, that’s part of it. What are you gonna do about it? Out came another piece of paper and she wrote two things.
1. If I like Tommy, does that mean he’s my BOYFRIEND?
2. Can’t I like his as a friend – even if he is a BOY?


Tommy found Rebecca out in the back yard, throwing her baseball against the side of the garage and catching it.

“Hi ‘Becca. Wanna play catch?” Tommy kind of smiled.

“Sure, but only if we can talk first.”

They both sat down on the grass, Rebecca kept tossing her ball in the mitt, to hide her nervousness.

“Tommy, you’re my very best friend in the whole world.” Rebecca spurted out.

“You’re my best friend too ‘Becca.”

“Well, I noticed something lately. All our friends have started ‘going’ with each other. What do you think about that?”

“I dunno.”

“Aw come on Tommy! You do too!”

“OK! Sometimes I think its ok, but sometimes I don’t like it!”

“Yeah, me too.” Rebecca said softly. “Do you think ‘we’ should?”

“I dunno.” Tommy said.

“Hey look Tommy, you’re my best friend. I’m your best friend. You don’t HAVE to be my boyfriend, I don’t have to be your girlfriend! We can be just really good friends! Can’t we?”

“Yeah. It works for me! Where you wanna play catch?”

“How ‘bout the park?”

“OK.”

They got up and started for the gate. They both reached for the latch at the same time. Their hands touched, and it was as if electricity went through them and t hey pulled back. They walked through the gate, Tommy reached down and grabbed Rebecca’s hand; she didn’t pull away. They walked down the driveway holding hands.

FINIS