 | It was 1982, and we were in the 8th grade, which was the first year of high school because there was no middle school in the area where I lived at that time.
They say girls mature faster than boys. That is never more evident than in an 8th grade classroom. The girls were all about make-up and weekend plans, the boys were all about comic books and “Dungeons and Dragons.”
Charles and I had math together, and due to the seating arrangement, he was surrounded by me and two of my girlfriends. We teased Charles, pinched his cheeks, and told him how adorable he was.
He joked back, always having something witty to say, but was very shy and unsure of himself. I never gave him much thought as an actual BOY, but just as a buddy in math class.
The last day of school we all passed around yearbooks for signing. Everyone always wrote just about the same thing, which didn’t matter, it was really just the prestige of having a zillion signatures to show how popular you were.
When I gave Charles my book to sign, he kept it through the entire half hour study period, and went and sat in a corner with his back to me as he wrote.
When the bell rang and we all prepared to leave, he handed the book back and beat a hasty retreat out the door, never looking me in the eye. I wondered what he could’ve said that had taken so long to write, and expected to find a really lengthy entry. Instead, I found this:
Lisa,
You’re pretty nice,
pretty funny,
and you look great!
Charles
Okay, it wasn’t poetry, but it made me look at him in a whole new way. I found myself thinking about him a lot that summer.
When school started again, I found that he had “blossomed” into this really cool guy, and suddenly all the girls were interested. Not knowing what to do with the competition, I settled on just being his friend, hoping one day for a chance at more.
We always had at least one class together, and dated a few times our sophomore and junior years, once getting so hot and heavy in the back seat during a downpour that I would have gladly given him my virginity, which I had guarded very carefully from the other boys who had hoped to get it. Instead, he said we shouldn’t get carried away, so we opted for four hours of heavy necking instead. |  |
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