Yet another excerpt from my novel, written at age 12, about Blowsy the teenage chorus girl

CHAPTER 3 Going to “Sleep”

“Hi, guys!” Blowsy greeted her preparing for bed roommates.

“Where have you been?” Irene asked, vivaciously rubbing cold cream into her cheeks.

“With Jeremy. Of course.” Mitzie supplied, with a disgusted roll of her eyes.

Cherrie, hidden under her heavy off-white nightgown, said in a muffled voice, “Mitzie, shut up.”

“Yeah!” Sally added as she brushed out her shimmering platinum bob. “You’re just jealous because you don’t have such a wonderful guy as Jeremy.”

“Or as gorgeous!” Fifi supplied from her upside down position against the wall. She always stood on her head for five minutes before going to bed. She said it was relaxing.

“Or as gentle.” Anita said, turning down the itchy covers of the saggy, creaky double bed.

“Or as …” Irene started but Mitzie cut her off with a loud, “Why don’t you guys shut up?” She put on a haughty expression and sat up straight. “I’ll have you know that Craig asked me out tonight. So there!”

Everyone stared at Mitzie, who smiled back at them, her face smug and self-satisfied. The room was silent as all the girls stared round-eyed at each other.

“Craig?” Eileen asked in a hushed whisper.

Grinning from ear to ear, Mitzie nodded.

Then, as one, all of the roommates except Mitzie burst into hysterical laughing. They roared and clutched at each other and giggled even more at Mitzie’s baffled expression.

“Craig?” Anita gasped, tears running down her cheeks.

“That puny freckled thing?” Sally added, her flawless shining hair becoming all tousled as she threw herself on a double bed and laughed long and loud.

“I’m sorry, Mitzie,” Irene began, holding her stomach, her face looking ghostly and eerie with the cold cream. “But how can you even compare him to Jeremy?”

“Yeah, how?” Cherrie demanded, patting the rags on her head.

There was a silence as everyone stared expectantly at Mitzie, waiting for an answer. But Mitzie sat very small and meek on her hard cot, trying to think of a hot retort to get her out of this mess. She then got up and stalked out of the room.

“Was that too mean? I couldn’t help it.” Fifi broke the silence as she flipped down off the wall, her face beet-red.

“I couldn’t help it, either. I mean … Craig!” Irene murmured with a look of awe on her face. Blowsy giggled.

“Thanks for sticking up for me … and Jeremy.” She gave all the girls a sly look. “Gee, I had no idea you were all so … fond of him.”

Sally threw a pillow at her.

“Oh, come on, Blows,” Irene said as she capped her makeup jars. “You know we didn’t mean it that way. Jer’s just a friend to us.”

“But he is a great boy. You’re lucky, Blowsy,” Sally remarked, bouncing with squeaks and creaks on the bed. As the other girls made ready the beds, Blowsy got into her nightgown, scrubbed her face clean of all makeup, rubbed on cold cream, combed her bouncy curls and brushed her teeth. After she finished putting all of her things away in her drawer of the bureau, Mitzie flounced into the room. Her face was calm and cool, but she was obviously furious, judging from the way she walked, held her head and clenched her fists at her sides. She put on a lofty manner as she took out her earrings.

“Just had to go say goodnight to Craig,” she said pointedly.

Sally snorted.

Blowsy climbed into the low, sagging bed beside Cherrie. Sally was next to Cherrie, brushing out her flaxen hair again. Blowsy envied Sally’s hair so much. It was just so beautiful. Anita, Fifi and Irene were squeezing into the other bed, with giggles and groans as the bed slipped and squeaked. Only Mitzie remained standing in front of the cracked mirror which always made you look slightly green, primping with her face.

Irene rolled over with many terrible piercing noises from the protesting bed. “Uh …” she grunted, “Hurry up, Mitzie. It’s late.”

“Yeah,” Sally added. “And I’ve got voice first thing tomorrow.”

“Me too,” Blowsy said.

“I’m sorry,” Mitzie retorted, angrily whirling around, hands on hips. “It’s just that a woman has to do a lot to be presentable to their man in the morning. I’m having breakfast with Craig.”

Simultaneously, all six girls in bed turned over to bury their faces in their pillows to muffle their laughter. Mitzie slowly got into her cot with moans of protest about how uncomfortable her bed was. When she finally was settled, Blowsy reached up, pulled the dangling string from the bare lightbulb and the room was in darkness. This was usually the funnest time when a remark about how cramped their quarters were would send everyone into hysteria.

“Sally, get your elbow out of my eye,” Cherrie groaned in a slow low voice. Sally giggled.

Someone shrieked through the darkness of the room. “Irene! Your cold cream is all over my nightgown collar!”

Blowsy roared with Cherrie.

“Fifi. Are you wearing your shoes in bed?”

More peals of giggles.

“This bed is going to collapse any minute.”

“Blowsy, your feet are freezing. Get them away.”

“Stop shoving over there. Half of me is off the bed and half is –” THUMP. “OUCH!” It was Irene yelling. “Fifi, you did that on purpose.”

“So? You’re hogging all of the covers.”

“Me!” Squeak (Irene climbing into bed.) “I don’t have any covers. You and Anita are the –”

“Ow! Cherrie, your curlers are sharp.”

Blowsy giggled.

“Come on,” Mitzie grumbled. “I want to go to sleep.”

“So you can be fresh-and-beeeeautiful for Craig-y?” Someone cooed in a high-pitched voice, followed b a giggle.

Mitzie groaned in exasperation. “You guys are just a bunch of Dumb Doras,” she said hotly.

“My. How hard-boiled you are tonight,” Sally cried.

“You’ll have to be … sunnyside up for lil’ ol’ Craig-o!” Blowsy said cleverly. Everyone giggled.

“Oh, Blowsy, that was good!” Fifi cried across the room.

“Oh, Blowsy, that was good!” Mitzie mimicked in a squeaky voie. The girls went on like this, bickering in a fun way (except for Mitzie) and, gradually, things became silent in the tiny, dingy, crowded room and the only sounds were the heavy breathing of girls who had already gone to sleep.

Someone started to snore … loudly. Everyone groaned. Blowsy had it the worst because it was Cherrie, right beside her, wheezing and snorting. And it went on for a long time. She snored so loud and violently that she actually shook the bed.

“Avalanche!” Sally shrieked as the bed wiggled and wobbled. Blowsy and Sally giggled together. As Cherrie’s snoring continued and grew in volume, Irene let out a long groan and buried her head under her pillows. Finally, Cherrie was so loud that Blowsy was sure that the next room could hear it and it was unbearable being beside her. Then, to make matters worse, Cherrie began to snort and grunt along with heavy breathing. Everybody, including Mitzie, started to giggle. At first softly, trying to keep it quiet, but then it crescendoed, until finally all of them were shouting with laughter and above it all was Cherrie’s relentless snoring.

“I have to wake her up,” Blowsy gasped, quite a wreck from all the hard laughing she had done that day.

“Please do,” Irene moaned.

Blowsy shook Cherrie who awoke with a loud violent snort. At the sound, Blowsy fell back down, holding her aching stomach, and laughing until she felt her sides would actually split. For the second time that night, someone stared at her while she laughed, wondering what was going on. Blowsy just lay there gasping for breath.

“Blowsy,” Anita called from the other bed. “You sound like an overworked poodle.”

This only made Blowsy laugh all the more harder. Cherrie was very disgruntled at having been pushed awake and then have Blowsy give no explanation but just lie there and laugh.

“Blowsyyyyyy,” Cherrie whined. “Why did you wake me up?”

“Because,” Blowsy gasped in a high giggly voice. “Your snoring was shaking the building.”

Everyone giggled but Cherrie was annoyed.

“Well … I couldn’t help it!”

“The whole bed was shaking!” Sally put in, softly because she was laughing so hard.

“People could have heard you in Japan,” Irene added.

“If not, they certainly would have felt your vibrations,” Blowsy giggled.

Cherrie clicked her tongue in an irritated “tsk”. “Well, I’m sorry. I’ll try not to disturb you again.” She violently lay back down causing the whole bed to bounce and screench. Blowsy, feeling her friend’s annoyance and humiliation, whispered softly, “C’mon, Cherrie. You know we’re only kidding around. I didn’t mean those things.”

Cherrie reluctantly whispered back, “O.K. I’m sorry I acted so haughty.” There was a long comfortable silence, the kind of silence that is shared only by the very best of friends who have made up to each other, and then Cherrie, curious, inquired, “Did I really snore loud?”

Blowsy giggled, relieved to get back on normal terms, and replied, “You sure were goin’ strong for a while there.” The two friends smiled in the dark, and although they couldn’t see each other, they could feel one another’s smiles. There was that kind of special bond between them, another thing that intimate friends share.

After that, Blowsy found her eyelids growing heavy and her mind blurry. The last thing she remembered was a pleasant thought of she and Jeremy tripping down the busy New York sidewalk, talking and laughing and pointing, and feeling each other’s love … the next thing she knew, bright sunlight was flooding through the dingy window to fall on her sleeping face and waking her up to a brand new day.