Invitation

If you are a dreamer, come in.
If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar,
A hope-er, a pray-er, a magic bean buyer...
If you're a pretender, come sit by my fire,
For we have some flax golden tales to spin.
Come in!
Come in!

-Shel Silverstein

Sunday, August 2, 2009

"Falling" in Love

Imagine me, the somewhat shy yet self-involved teen, entering 9th grade. It was the height of the 90's grunge movement that, like all the outcast movements before it, couldn't quite stamp out the jocks and "popular" girls. Nor did they seek to remedy the woebegone status of the geeks and terminally normal kids.

That was me, terminally normal. I wasn't ugly, wasn't beautiful, wasn't trendy, and yet not nerdy either. I was helplessly stuck in some ambiguous state of normal and thus ignored by everyone; including the nerds. Make no mistake, I was relatively happy. As happy as any self-conscious ninth grade girl can be. I had a few great friends and was lacking any serious self destructive obsessions that plague young teen girls. I made pretty good grades and performed pitifully at cross country but at least I was "involved" with school. I was cruising through the year with little trouble and had avoided developing any major social complexes when "he" arrived.

The moment he stepped foot on campus every girl, from the nerdy book worm to the hottest cheerleader, took notice. His name spread like wildfire down the halls and through classrooms, Luke. Luke was mysterious. He had shoulder length dirty blond hair that was wavy and unkempt and had somehow turned money into grunge. It was apparent that he was rich and because he was trend-setting grunge, he was every mother's bane. Every silly girl's dream.

My friends and I noticed him too. At first I was put off by his grungy clothes and then he dropped from my mind whenever the girls weren't gossiping about him. I couldn't get away from the stories and speculation that ran wild through the whispered longings of my peers. Apparently he was wealthy and sent to live with his uncle (the ROTC teacher) because he was too much of a handful for his poor mother. Not only were his parents rich but he was independently wealthy, having a trust fund of his own courtesy of Disney World when he lost his thumb on a ride there at the age of seven. The more I heard the more I though "freak" and tried to ignore the endless babble around me. This being impossible, I also learned that he played guitar and wrote songs and poetry. I had a few classes with him and like all the other popular people I ignored him and he ignored me.

Despite my attempt to remain ignorant I eventually had to introduce myself in order to complete a group assignment. I noticed he had two thumbs and decided not to believe a word of all the crap I was hearing. Like always I finished the assignment while cheerleader 1 and cheerleader 2 cooed like birds and flirted with Luke. I was happy when class was over and I could go fume with my friends about having to do all the work. Thankfully this was all the interaction I'd had with him and life went on as normal for about two weeks (which is an eternity for a high school girl.) During those weeks Luke hadn't asked out a single girl or showed particular interest which really had all the girls anxious and uptight. The subtle girl fight began to win his heart. The opening line of Pride and Prejudice rings true... if on a less "permanent" level. "It is a universally known truth that every single man in possession of a fortune is in want of a wife." It was apparent to every girl that he must be in want of a girlfriend.

I was having a strange week. It was only Wednesday but strange things were happening. Girls I normally talked to wouldn't say a word to me while those who never talked to me were giving me the evil eye. Guys who never looked twice were looking enough to make me blush and my friends had no explanation. On my way to my locker that morning was creepy. It felt like the whole school was watching me walk down the hall holding their breath in anticipation. Oh sure, I know, they weren't ALL looking at me; but many were and some I felt were trying to appear not to look. I mentally confirmed that I had put clothing on that morning and fumbled with the combination lock on my locker.

The door swung open with a creak that shattered the silence and there, taped to the door, was a rumpled, folded piece of note book paper. For a moment I stared at the paper wondering who'd gotten into my locker then snatched it down and shoved it in my backpack. With my luck it was from some hopeless puppy dog type guy that it would break my heart to say no... so I didn't want to read it.. that way I didn't have to say "no". I unloaded my homework and gathered the stuff for first and second period. I swung the door closed hoping for some privacy before I read the note, whoever it was from.

Luke was walking up the hall, cool as ever. He did actually have beautiful eyes. I was startled when I realized those pretty green eyes were intent on my face. I must have looked amusing because he smiled a crooked little smile that made his eyes light up. My heart fluttered and I dropped my head hoping to brush by quickly. Obviously I was between him and some girl, how embarrassing. Even more embarrassing was when he grabbed my arm as I brushed by, "Paige. Wait." The silence in the hall was deafening and I wondered if everyone was slowly suffocating.

Startled, I stopped and looked up at him a little confused. "Hi Luke."

"Did you get my note?" His voice was honey with a bit of sand and gravel - sweet but rough.

I continued to stare. "Your note?" I said stupidly, my brain failing miserably to make the connection that the most sought after guy in school had put a note in my locker.

He began to look a bit nervous too. "Yeah. It was in your locker. Didn't you see it?"

Realization hit me and I blushed to the roots of my sandy blond hair. "Yes, I did. I have it but I haven't read it yet."

His smiled widened. "Let me know when you do." With that he continued strolling down the hall.

I was shell shocked but suddenly everyone was breathing again. Not only that - they were buzzing like flies on dead meat. And I was dead meat. My best friends were tugging on my arms squeaking things like "what did he say?" "did you read the note?" "WOW". I brushed them off and while it was still ten minutes before first period began I sought out the Algebra room for some peace and quite - because really... who'd hang out in Algebra class?

With trembling hands I pulled the note out and read a beautifully written poem asking me out on a date that Friday. (I'd insert the poem here but in truth I've lost it and I would never do it justice to attempt to recreate it.) I'd never really been on a date before; after all, who would drive? My mom? No way!

I couldn't believe it; the most popular guy in school had just asked me out on a date! Me! Plain, ordinary, terminally normal me! I realized that it must be some kind of set up or dare... I'd seen too many Molly Ringwald movies not to know what was going on... but still my heart soared at the idea that for a moment I was a star.

Knowing that it wouldn't last I decided to play it cool. This was my one shot to be the envy of every girl; I wasn't going to mess it up with all my stammering and blushing like I did that morning. True to my word I breezed by him in the hall later and at his questioning look said, "Oh right. Sorry! I'll read it next period. Promise!" and rushed off with my heart pounding at my dare devil self. Wheww this was fun! My English class with him was coming up quickly so I'd have to tell him my answer then.

What would I answer? If it was all a joke I knew I should say no. BUT. But what if it wasn't a joke? Country song lyrics, "ride this ride far as it will go..." floated through my head and I decided to say yes. Perhaps he wanted to get to know me, well, I figured I could get to know him too and thought I just might like alternative music and baggy clothes.

He seemed genuinely pleased that I said yes and slipped me a tattered spiral bound notebook with a black scratched up cover. I spent all that day reading through these amazing poems that were dark, edgy and endearing. They spoke of loss, heartbreak and loneliness. My mom is reading this blog now, understanding me so well that she knows I was on a mission. My heart was putty yet resolved to show him that he wasn't alone, that someone cared. I cared.

Thursday and Friday at school rolled by in an unreal haze. Apparently my accepting his invitation for a date on Friday was also an acceptance to being his girl friend. He walked me to every class, holding my hand and offering to carry my books. These strolls through the halls earned smiles from other terminally normal kids and scowls from the popular girls. I couldn't get enough of his poetry, the supply of beat up notebooks seemed endless.

Although high school football wasn't really anywhere we'd normally go; where else would our parents let us go together without them? So Friday evening his uncle drove him over to my house and waited in the car as Luke came to the door.

I was wearing an outfit I hoped was cute but a little sexy and a bit grungy (only a high school girl could even think that was possible). I'd even borrowed a pair of combat boots and my older brother's jeans and flannel for the occasion. The only thing that was mine was the small, tight cut off shirt that showed more than normal now that my brother's jeans were hanging on my hips. I was glad to have the flannel to cover my belly with.. I was quite shy.

I wanted to make an entrance so my mom got the door and let him in. Luke sat down on the sofa to the right of the stairs. My mom made a face at me from the bottom of the stairs and I waited at the top for another minute. I took a deep breath and started down the steps wondering if he'd like the outfit.

Once I cleared the line where wall becomes banister I looked over at the couch with the sexiest smile I could manage. That's when everything went wrong. I felt my feet stumbling over the untied laces of the boots, saw his eyes widen as my sexy smile became a grimace of horror knowing I would fall.

The baggy, flannel I was wearing over my too tight cut off shirt seemed to trap my arms at my side in the wealth of material. In what I know was an ungraceful, sloppy head-first fall I tumbled down the remaining stairs. I was more mortified that hurt, looking up from my back at my feet still splayed on the stairs, one boot coming off and resting by my ear. Then I heard a sound that I knew heralded my death by mortification... Luke was laughing hysterically. Like a doomed damsel turning to watch the light of the train barreling toward her, I turned my head just as Luke rolled off the couch holding his sides in laughter.

I wanted to crawl under the couch he'd just vacated and hide until high school was over. I knew that this was the climax of the cruel social joke and I'd handed it over like a fool. Visions of laughing students filled my mind and I wanted to cry. I put a hand over my face in effort to hold in the tears of shame as Luke finally got his laughter under control.

To my surprise he croaked out, "Are you ok?" and seeing my hands helplessly trying to hind my tears quickly came over to help me up. I let him, knowing for sure the date was over. "Hey that was pretty awesome. I needed a good laugh, I hope you're ok though." his gravely sweet voice was so sincere that I chanced a look at his face. There was no guile, no triumph, just amusement and concern. I let out a shaky breath unsure of what to say. "Well, are you ready to go?" he asked. It turned out to be a great first date.

So that was one of my embarrassing moments. Luke was a genuine article and we "dated" as best two teens without transportation can for about three months (forever in teen girl time). Instead of his catapulting me to fame, he dropped into my obscurity but stuck with me anyway. I was the happiest I'd been up to that point in my life and he became my first love. It fizzled in tearful good byes when he went back home, miles and miles away but I'll always have nice memories.

1 comment:

L Garrett said...

Gary and I enjoyed this blog...There was a bunch of "oh no's and oh my goodness, I remember that's'...lol.you are such an amazing story teller thus writer....I'm telling you Paige...you NEED to write a book. I will be first in line to buy it~~~~

hugs!
Leigh