The Life of Tracy

I walked into my seventh grade science class and slipped into my chair, plopping my books on my desk.  As I leaned onto my elbows and put my chin in my hands, Tracy walked into the room.  She smoothed the back of her dress with her hand as she sat in her chair.  She smiled as she said, "Hi" to the girl in the desk next to hers.  I ran my tongue across my prickly braces.  Had I remembered to brush my teeth this morning?

The teacher took roll and then asked a student to collect last night's homework.  That was the first time I had given my homework any thought since class the day before.  I heard the smart, "snap" and watched Tracy use the silver end tabs to open the rings of her binder.  She removed her homework, refastened the rings and handed the paper to the student collecting homework.  When he came to me, I shook my head and began picking dirt out from under three of my fingernails.

I shifted in my chair to relieve the slight poke I felt in my side caused by the safety pin in my waistband holding up my skirt.  I checked out Tracy's pastel plaid dress and modest white sandals.  I pushed my feet further under my chair.  I decided I would wash the Keds I was wearing when I got home.

I rested my chin on top of my two stacked fists and peeked over at Tracy.  She sat with her back straight, her hands folded neatly on her books.  She crossed her ankles and tucked her feet to one side.  She had a dark blonde page boy that never flipped up, but always curled under.  I pushed out my lower lip and blew the bangs out of my eyes and thought I might try to trim them after my shower this evening, after I washed my Keds.

I was in seventh grade over forty five years ago, yet I still think about Tracy from time to time.  Whenever I have a clean house, folded laundry, completed lesson plans, gas in the car and dinner in the oven I think I am living the life of Tracy, and I like it.  Other days I spend hours in my backyard drinking cosmos and working crossword puzzles, while spider webs, weeds, and dust bunnies collect all around me.  I am a work in progress, and after all, Tracy had a head start.