High School Years–Chap.1 My First ‘Girlfriend’

   I entered my Freshman year High School painfully shy and in the shadow of my older brother who was relatively popular and still a Junior. This was the first time I was in the same school as him since the 4th grade. What it did bring was a healthy competition in the grade department., at least for me. He was very intelligent and may not have seen it as a competition as much as I did, but I let him know when I was better. Being referred to as his little brother by others kids and teachers didn’t help me become more outgoing, but his friends took a liking to me and let me tag along, so to speak.

   I had my first “girlfriend” this year, if you can call it that. That Labor Day Weekend, my friends and I went to a local Fire Department’s Fund Raising Carnival and we ran into a girl I had met months earlier.

(Editor’s Note: Squiggly waves, Cut to Flashback)

    I was on my paper route when there was a commotion down the block. Upon further inspection, it turned out to be a group of boys gathering around two girls who had been ‘best friends’, but were currently in a screaming and occasional shoving match. About what, I don’t recall, but probably a boy. Most of the boys huddled around were younger and egging them on, except for a guy named Colin that was in my grade and also happened to be delivering papers. He was trying to mediate the argument with little to no effect. The other kids were taunting the larger girl with names and weight jokes. She wasn’t fat, but generally bigger. Especially when compared to the other girl who was quite skinny. I didn’t know either of the girls, but knew most of the boys, but my loyalty was to Colin in this situation and proceeded to help subdue the crowd of boys that were not making the situation easier. I almost came to blows with one of the boys to silence the “fat” jokes which were really mean, uncalled for and irritating. Finally, Colin got the girls to go their separate ways. As the larger girl was walking away, one of the smaller boys threw a rock at her. Colin proceeded to pound on him. While some of the other boys followed the skinny girl like a bunch of love-starved puppies, I told Colin I’d walk the other girl home to make sure she wasn’t harassed further. Her name was Melissa and so was the other girl. They both went to private school which is why I didn’t recognize them. I spent the whole time walking my bike and telling her not to listen to those jerks and that she was not fat or ugly and that she was actually very pretty. I got her home without incident and that was that.

 (Ed. Note: Bright flash back to current “High School Memory” timeline.)

   There I am at the carnival with my friend months later. I think I was watching one of my friends play one of those carnival games when someone hits me on the shoulder. It wasn’t a light hit and made me a little bit nervous. I turned around and it was Melissa. 

   “It’s my hero,” she said partly to me and partly to her friends, one of which was the other Melissa that I had to assume she had reconciled with shortly after the incident.

  She followed up with. “Are you going to win me something?”

  I may have stuttered or mumbled, or just froze up. I may have said “Hey” or maybe nothing came out of my mouth. I just remember her and her friends giggling and running off in a teenage girl sort of way leaving me to confront my friends and a zillion questions that I didn’t have an answer for.

   I was given plenty of advice. Go and talk to her. Ask her out. Win her something. None of which I was prepared to do as I was shell-shocked. Finally I mustered some courage and won some little stuffed animal and set out to find her. When I did, I tapped her on the shoulder, handed her the animal to a chorus of ‘Awww, how sweet’ from her friends and a ‘thank you’ from her. Then, I pretty much ran away.

  Months went by. On Valentine’s Day, I rode my bike to a florist, bought a single rose with a card and left it on her doorstep signing it from a secret admirer. By the time I got home, my mother said a girl named Melissa called and left her phone number. Stunned, embarrassed and thoroughly confused as to A/ How she knew it was me. B/ How she got my number. When I finally built up the nerve to call her, we ended up talking forever. Phones were still hooked to the wall by a wire so I couldn’t stray out of earshot of family members for long, and my head was in a cloud that I don’t know if anything we talked about stuck in my head anyway. I do remember that she was sick and stayed home from school that day so she couldn’t go out, so the next day I had bought her a “Get Well Bear” from a stationary store and this time knocked on her door and gave it to her in person. Talking to her face to face didn’t bode well. I left almost as soon as I gave it to her.

She had strep throat or Mono, or something which made hanging out impossible so we talked over the phone every day. She was very forward and not shy about anything. At one point she asked me what form of birth control I recommended. I was seriously out of my depth here and it was apparent. We hung out a few times and just kind of stopped calling each other.