In our cul-de-sac, there are several families that have teenage boys. Most of them are really good kids; super polite and friendly and respectful of their neighbors. Of course, the oldest just turned 15 so there’s plenty of time for that to change.

One of our next door neighbors is a 14 year old who just finished 8th grade this spring. When we moved in, he was kind of a small guy with thick, wavy hair. That’s more or less what he looked like last fall when we all disappeared inside for the winter. When he emerged this spring, he had shot up at least 3-4″ in height, his hair was much longer, and he suddenly carried himself more like a man than a boy. Apparently it’s not just babies that change before your eyes.

This kid’s transformation appears to have made the girls in the area really notice him. Since school ended, pretty much every afternoon and evening, there’s a flock of girls either hanging with him and his boys, or creeping around the house trying to determine if he’s home. The pack takes over our street, either walking as a group in the center of the road, or arriving in a mass of bikes. They giggle, preen, and vie for homeboy’s attentions. What is most fascinating is it’s not just the geeky, awkward girls who are coming over. There have been more than a few that look like they’re closer to 19 than 13. While the girls who are still struggling with puberty fall back and play uncomfortably, these girls take charge, flirting overtly with our neighbor, strutting around in bikini tops, and otherwise acting like the alpha dogs they are. Playa’s got some skills, it appears.
The whole bike thing kills me, though. There’s one girl in particular that seems to be spending a lot of time next door. She’s tall, tanned, cute, and I bet if she was on some MTV show they’d make her look like she was about to start college rather than high school. So I almost collapse in giggles when I see her walking around like someone who knows she’s going to have seniors hitting on her next fall…and then she hops on her bike to ride home. Of course, it’s easy to make light of her situation when you’ve put your teenage years behind you. I feel her pain, as I was begging for rides quite often in high school (thanks to my readers who contributed to me never having to ride the bus my senior year!). But I have a feeling she and her parents are headed for a monumental fight about how she “needs” her own car as soon as she’s old enough. Who am I kidding? Here in Carmel, the SUV or German sports car of her choice has probably already been purchased and is just waiting for her next birthday to be delivered, complete with a bow on it, to her house.
Anyway, it’s funny watching my neighbor and his female admirers.