The Music in You

She came out of the dressing room in a the new pair of jeans. He was with her; her hype man. It was her favorite thing about him. On the days where she felt her lowest-lows, he was there to lift her from it. With him- she was never alone, never stayed low, and always felt equal.

"Oh. My. God. Becky- look at her butt...."

She could not have rolled her eyes harder. He was always her hype man, but that didn't mean he wasn't the stupidest fucker in the room sometimes.

"You are the worst. You know that, right?"

"I thought you wanted to look like one of those rap guy's girlfriends, baby!"

As she walks back to the dressing room, making sure to put a little extra into the walk away for him, she laughed to herself, thinking about the first time she ever heard that song:

Her sister came in the room.

"Do you have it?"

They giggled like crazy. They could not believe they had finally gotten their hands on the cassette.

There were no radios in their home. There was an old record player, with only music that their strictest of strict grandmother approved of them listening to. They could listen to the songs from church, the classical music of Mozart and Bach, and the occasion Jazz album, when Granny was feeling frisky. That was as bold as their house ever got- It was Ella and Louis when the world went wild.

The girls wanted more- they wanted the new music that their friends talked about. They wanted Pop, they wanted Rap, and they wanted Hip-Hip. They wanted to know why the boys would gather around every day and recite words in rhythm and rhyme- why was this so magical? What was so special about it- that it brought all of them together every day. The playground, the lunch room, before school, the halls- everywhere they went- they were throwing down.

Everywhere she went, the classmates would say, "OMG, Becky, look at her butt....it's so big!" when she walked by.

And she hated it.

She hated it because she didn't know if they were making fun of her.

She hated it because she didn't know if it was a good thing or not. She hated it, because she didn't get the reference.

She hated it, because they all got to live, while she was stuck in the bubble.

The girls got out their old teddy bear- the one that played cassettes- and put the tape in. The ran to look out of the doors one last time and make sure that nobody else was home. They closed the door. They locked it. They pressed play.

The bear's mouth began to move, as it started, "OMG, Becky- look at her butt."

They looked at each other and smiled. They had done it. They had obtained their first mix-tape.

They weren't really sure what a mix-tape was, but they knew that there was a boy at school who was known for being able to get all of the music your parents wouldn't let you have, then he would put it on a tape that looked inconspicuous- often recording over a childhood story tape you brought to him. And he even recorded off of the radio, something they had never heard before.

They were holding hands, laughing, and jumping up and down. The beads in their braids clicked together loudly, the bottom of their skirts swished in unison, and in that moment- they may have outgrown the ruffles going around their socks.

It was their first time hearing anything like this. They loved it.

When the song was over, they slowly realized that he had filled up the entire tape, both sides, with all kinds of music for them. Music which they would listen to over the next 2 weeks. They were never quite brave enough to listen to more than 1 or 2 songs per day, without concern of being caught.

But they would listen to it over and over again.

When they were done, they returned the cassette to its rightful place, with the rest of the childhood story book cassettes.... She began to wonder if she should feel guilty for recording over songs about Jesus. She began to wonder even more: why doesn't she feel guilty?

When their Grandmother came home, the girls were seated at the table. They were reciting bible verses to one another, just as Grandma expected. She walked by with an approving smile and nod.

When she left the room, the girls let out a long sigh. They were terrified she would be able to see the music in their eyes. They felt like they were changed women; Grandma still saw them as little girls.

As she changed out of the jeans and back into her Sunday dress.

She wondered to herself, "Did she ever know?" Then decided she should call her to catch up-

-But not too much.