Aurora (Borealis) Entry: Aurora (Borealis) June 10th 2001 Fascinating new thing The scene-makin' Want a temporary savior I'm surprised that you've never been told before That you're lovely and you're perfect And that somebody wants you --F.N.T, Semisonic Aurora is hot in every sense of the term. Totally. Amazingly. Unconditionally. So hot she’s “hott” with an extra “t” thrown in just cause I like it. We met in Jazz Ensemble four years ago (freshman year). I was tuning my guitar when Randy gave me “the elbow,” which is used to signal the presence of an exceptionally good-looking female. However, Randy was famous for going gaga over females who didn’t exactly rate as “exceptional”; beauty being the Eye of the Beholder and all (whatever the hell that means), so I ignored him at first. But when he combined “the elbow” with “the lean-in,” he got my attention. He smelled like Doritos. “Dude,” he said, “Check out the door.” So I did. I was awestruck. Dumbstruck. Thunderstruck. I would nearly describe it as a religious experience, and SHE was the angel I was seeing. There was an explosion in my head, the left side of my brain reached over and devoured the other hemisphere, and suddenly I had to remind myself to blink, although I couldn’t will my mouth to close. Somewhere in the back of my mind it registered that Randy was having similar problems willing himself to take oxygen in a normal breathing pattern. She looked over at us and we were caught agape. Not that it mattered, half the guys in the class were now doing the same thing. Slack-jawed, open mouthed, drooling expressions of astonishment filled the room, and she took it all in stride. Not like she expected them, or enjoyed it, but more like she didn’t understand. Bemusement is what I saw, but this would file in later when my left hemisphere regurgitated my right and I could think again. Randy and I continued to gawk as she walked across the room toward us—directly toward us we realized, so we struggled to regain our composure. I started blinking again, and Randy tried taking in regular, normal sounding breaths. She was standing right in front of us. “Hi,” she said. And then she smiled. FLASH! Big, bright spots that swirled in a flash of movement and color, and now I was blinking as if in a stage of REM sleep. Randy started to hyperventilate again, but covered it with a sudden coughing fit. Her 20,000-watt smile was like mixing Julia Roberts with an atomic explosion. It invaded your entire being as a whole and filled you with warmth that could melt the heart of even the most hopeless of cynics. She stuck out her hand and it seemed inappropriate. Getting down on my knees in worship seemed more fitting. “I’m Aurora James.” We shook hands. Bow you fool! Bow! Her handshake was firmer than mine was; though I was lucky I was able to move at all, let alone form a thought process for words. “Mackenzie Morgan,” I gasped out finally. “This is Randy.” Randy was still coughing like he had Tuberculosis, but managed what could be considered a wave. “Do I have mustard on my face or something?” she asked. “Uhhh…no. Why?” “Cause you’re staring at me.” I immediately tore my eyes away and looked at the floor. Jesus, what is wrong with you? I asked myself. I was acting like a complete and total idiot. Stealing a brief glance upward, I caught the look of bemusement on her face again. She looked around the room. “It’s okay, most of the guys in here are doing it anyway.” She chuckled. “I guess I just don’t see what the big deal is.” She probably hadn’t looked in the mirror that morning. “Where’s…” Aurora trailed off as she went hunting in a back pocket for her schedule. “Miss Evanovich?” It was then that I noticed the drumsticks in her hand. My mouth watered and my tongue went dry. “She’s usually late,” I croaked. Then, “You play the drums?” “She started to give me a look of “what do you think?” but then smiled at me again, in spite of herself. I thought I would pass out. “Yes,” she said. “Ever since I was five.” “A drummer chick.” Randy had finally managed to speak. We both looked at him in wonder; then Aurora James laughed. Full on, with her whole body, she laughed like she hadn’t done so in years. Randy and I grinned and laughed half-heartedly with her, even though it was hard not to want to bust up like she was. It was just that we’d both realized that the pair of us had acted way to stupid to get back the composure and coolness we now wanted to portray. Jesus Christ. “Yeah I guess you could call me that.” She brushed a tear (of laughter) away and tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear. And now Randy and I were back to staring. “Can I sit down?” Aurora gestured to the empty seat next to me. “Uh…sure.” And then Randy and I were falling over each other to move our stuff. * * * The paraphrased Webster dictionary version for Aurora is: A luminous and often beautiful phenomenon that consists of streamers or arches of light…and is caused by the emission of light from atoms…accelerated along the planet’s magnetic field lines. That was Aurora, she merely personified that definition. Webster also mentions that: Aurora is the name of the Roman goddess of dawn. Did I believe that the sun rose and set on her? It wasn’t so far-fetched to consider if you’d ever “experienced” her presence. * * * She was six feet even with long athletic legs that seemed to go on forever. A dancer’s figure, in that she was thin and toned everywhere (and I do mean everywhere). Her long, golden blond hair was straight and came down to her shoulders. She left it straight pretty much all the time; Aurora was not the type that obsessed about her hair because she woke up gorgeous (I’d seen it with my own eyes). Like I said though, she had a dancer’s figure for the most part, except for her hips. Wonderful, curvy, sinfully sensuous hips that were rounded out in the back by a firm (assuming), luscious ass. Oh. My. God. Aurora’s doe-like blue-green eyes were full of wonder, innocence and beauty. Her delicate facial features made her look like a life-size doll out of an American Girl catalog. She was a work of art…an angel, causing scenes just by walking (or what Randy called wafting) down the hall, but never letting it go to her head, seemingly immune to her own hype. A very down to earth girl who wore very little make-up if any at all with no acne to speak of. She was perfect. Amazing. Adorable. Unbelievable. Mind-blowing. Orgasmic. I could keep going with the adjectives. But I won’t. You get the picture I think. Aurora had been new to Columbia that year, moving to Maryland from Georgia. Though she was devoid of the infamous southern drawl (except when she got really pissed), she was certainly not lacking any of that down-home southern charm, believe you me. Randy and I went out of our way to make her feel right at home. And that’s where we ran into problems. See you have to understand. It was extremely hard—difficult, to maintain any sort of relationship with Aurora in the platonic nature. It was hard to keep up the lie. In school, Aurora could cause a scene, like I said. She got dirty looks from the girls, dirty stares from the female teachers; she occupied the dirty fantasies of the male students, and probably the male teachers too. There were even unconfirmed reports of her causing a chain of simultaneous orgasms to seven guys standing around a locker with nothing more than a passing glance. She wasn’t the hottest girl in school, but she was up there, and being “new” gave her notoriety. Until Rosey came along of course. But there Randy and I were in Jazz Ensemble everyday. The three of us talking, chatting and joking like old pals. It even felt like an out-and-out lie. I mean, if you’re a guy, it’s hard enough to maintain the level of platonically correct behavior or whatever just to keep up a “friendship” with any “normal” girl. It’s all the bullshit you have to muddle through. * * * “What you mean to tell me is, we can enjoy each other’s company: hanging out, getting to know one another on a personal level, having fun, etc., etc., without developing feelings for each other?” “Of course silly.” “That’s bullshit. Total unadulterated bullshit. It makes no sense. You know that right?” “Mmm-hmm.” Christ have mercy. There was nothing we could DO though; she had the dominant X-chromosomes so she made the rules. Besides which, Aurora was way out of our league. Hugh Hefner himself would have thought twice before asking her out. And he’s old! * * * And so, when Tom came up with the idea of starting a band mid-way through freshman year it seemed only natural to invite Aurora to join our little threesome…to be our drummer. (Being good on the sticks and all) She agreed. This meant spending more time at her house. (Whoo-hoo!) That’s where her drum set was, so that’s where we practiced most times. Randy was having trouble dealing with it though. To him, Aurora was his personal living deity; to me she was a headache I didn’t want to start. To Tom, she soon became a girlfriend. “YOU DID WHAT?!” Randy was livid. His hands were on his wide, roly-poly hips and his eyes burned intensely inside his skull. “I asked her out.” Tom stated calmly, being the Rivers Cuomo of the group. Meaning he rarely spoke; meaning he rarely got upset, meaning that he didn’t let things get to him, usually anyway. This was one of those times. “Well what did she say?” Randy demanded, still standing with his hands on his hips. I laughed at the sight. He looked ultra-feminine like that. “Oh shut up Mack!” he spat at me. Then to Tom, “Well?” We were sitting in the food court at the mall. I don’t know if you’ve ever been to ours in Columbia but it’s massive. Supposedly it was built by the same guys who did Towson Town Center (20 minutes away from 6-95), and it shows. Both sport that “let’s dump every little shop under the friggin sun into this mall” design that makes going there such an experience. Tom leaned back in his chair and took a sip of his coke, blinking innocently, unfazed by Randy’s hostility. And we were all ignoring the attention we were attracting due to the Drama Queen’s antics. “She said yes.” Tom reported just as matter-of-fact as you did please. Randy was incredulous but Tom was cooler than hell on Christmas morning, slicker than snot on a doorknob, and calmer than a stoner on Prozac. Like Tom, Randy and I had been friends since middle school. Unlike Tom, Randy was not my personal hero. I’m hoping one day Tom writes a book. He’s that fucking cool. Randy narrowed his eyes, and then looked at me. I shrugged. Hell, even I’d go out with Tom. He was cool, mellow and collected. Tom was so down to earth he was almost a vegetable. Everybody liked him. I had no idea how he was in the boyfriend category but I’m guessing he was pretty cool in that area too. Aurora sure thought so. Randy sat down, shaking his head at the injustice. He didn’t say anything else, but he kept shaking his head for the next three weeks. I think he took it pretty hard. He stopped hanging out at Aurora’s as much as he used to for a while (the head shaking didn’t go over too well), and Tom did stuff after school with people the rest of us didn’t associate with. That left Aurora and me. “How’s Angel?” she asked me one day on the way home from school. Aurora lived less than a mile away so we always walked to her house. Usually. It followed: school, walk, and band practice. In the winter the walk had sucked, but it was May now and spring was in full bloom, I remember. The sun shined, daffodils were back, and so were the buds and the beginnings of leaves on trees. There was a cool breeze going and the temperature was an even 70. It was the kinda day you were glad just to be alive to see. “You mean have I made any progress with her?” Aurora smiled knowingly. “Of course that’s what I meant.” I smiled back. “I think so,” I’d said, “She asked me over to hang out on Saturday.” “That means she likes ya. You guys should be dating in no time.” Yeah, right. We walked in silence for a bit, maybe two minutes when Aurora suddenly stopped walking. “Did you feel that just now?” “Huh?” “The silence, while we were just walking.” “Did I just feel it?” “Yeah.” “No.” I said, looking into the clear blue sky. (Such a beautiful day!) “Why?” I asked. “Because,” she started, “Most times when two people are alone together they feel obligated to say something to each other at all times, y’know? Just to keep their mouth going and avoid that uncomfortable silence.” “Right.” I had no idea where she was going with this. “You ever see an old married couple in a room at a nursing home or something; doing things independent of each other, and not speaking cause you know they don’t have to?” “My parents do that sometimes.” I said. “Exactly!” Aurora’s blue-green eyes flashed with excitement. “They know each other so well that they have the confidence to just shut up and enjoy the silence.” “One of my favorite songs.” “What?” “Enjoy the Silence? Depeche Mode?” I tried to explain, but she’d never heard it. “I dunno what you’re talking about.” “Nevermind.” I gave up. “What were you saying?” Her face became thoughtful. “It’s just that those people know each other so well that little pauses like this--” She paused for a full ten seconds. “—don’t bother them.” She finished. “They don’t wonder about stupid stuff like what the other person is thinking or whether they should say something.” “Yeah, so?” “So remember when we were walking and not saying anything?” I got what she was saying now. “Yeah, I do.” I told her. “Did you feel compelled to say something to break the silence?” “No.” “Why not?” she asked. Suddenly I was looking at my feet. “Just didn’t have anything to say right then.” I said, nervously. I will not start shifting around on my feet. I will not start shifting around on my feet! I WILL NOT start shifting around on my feet goddammit! She looked at me shifting around on my feet. (WHY ME?!) I felt the long-dreaded headache coming on. “Look don’t start getting nervous on me now.” She said. “I feel comfortable around you too, Mackenzie.” Aurora always called me by my whole first name. Usually. “Seriously?” I asked. There was another pause and SHE shifted on HER feet. It was a bona fide miracle. Aurora James NEVER got nervous. She was confidence personified. She looked at me, her doe-eyes full of innocence. “Yeah, I do.” Aurora said. “I know we haven’t known each other that long,” (less than a year at this point) “but I feel like I can tell you anything or not say a word and you’ll understand. Does that make any sense?” “Perfect sense.” Which was crap of course, but if ever there was a time to use a cliched line, that was it. “Good.” And with that, she breathed a sigh of relief like she’d been holding her breath and regained her composure. Then we walked home in silence, mostly because I was stunned into a stupor, but it seemed appropriate. And this is how Aurora and I became best friends. She would come to me with her problems and I would come to her with mine (though it was usually just the latter). Like everything else in my life, it wasn’t something I planned, but something I fell into headfirst. And my issues with being attracted to her? Strangely, they are currently buried. That conversation with her had served as some sort of bridge I’d needed to cross into Platonicville, population me. Well, somewhat. Sometimes I still catch myself staring at her ass when she bends down to pick something up, but that’s practically a reflex action. For the most part, my initial attraction has been safely tucked away to the back of my mind for the sake of friendship. Her relationship with Tom also helps to cement it down; four years and they’re still together. Go them! Sometimes Randy sees the two of them together though, his head starts shaking involuntarily and he has to stop himself. So that’s my relationship with Aurora, best friend and confidant extrordinaire. And boy do I need her these days. She’s the only person I can come to, to sort out the bullshit, being fluent in the language of course. “No that means that she really wants you to show up before she leaves tomorrow,” my bullshit interpreter explained to me. “Angel will be upset if you don’t.” “Then why the hell doesn’t she say so?” “You know why.” Aurora said. She was right. I knew why. Christ. Women. Jesus Christ. “I know that look.” Aurora said into the phone. “You better be planning to go see her.” “Of course I am.” “That’s my boy.” I laughed. “So when are you leavin with Randy and Tom?” “As soon as they get here.” She said. I heard a honking in the background, speak of the devil. “Speak of the devil,” she said. Do I know her or what? “I’ll see you in Ocean City Mackenzie, and don’t forget to pick up Madison.” “I wish I could.” I told her. “Madison’s not that bad.” Yeah, right, that’s probably what Jeffrey Dhamer’s dad used to say about his son ‘playing doctor’ with the neighborhood cats. “Call Randy if you have any problems.” She said. “He’ll have his pager on.” I could hear her gathering up her stuff. “I will,” I told her. “And give Angel time, she’ll come around eventually.” I’d already given her four friggin' years! “Bye.” I said. “C-ya.” Aurora hung up. We were going up to Ocean City today for senior week, but I was staying behind to take Madison up the next day (Monday) because of work. How’d I get stuck with that job? Simple. Madison asked, I said maybe. Aurora asked, I said sure. Sweet God above. But more on that later. The question is, do I pack this damn journal or not? I might need it. I might not. Best to be prepared for anything right? (That reminds me, I gotta get condoms) Whatever.
Copyright © 2001 MacKenzie Morgan |