I read an entry over at francophony.net about a junior high romance.
It made me think of my own time in 8th grade...
The 8th grade dance was coming up. There was a girl in 7th grade that I thought was really cute and somehow I worked up the courage to ask her to the dance. I don't recall how all of that went but I know that she replied yes.
Weeks go by...I smile at her but never speak to her about the upcoming dance. At some point I ask her what color her dress is going to be so that I can buy her a corsage (my own idea by the way).
I don't speak to her again until the night of the dance. I don't even know where she lives. I don't know her phone number. I have to stop at a phone booth (back then they had phone books in them) and look up her number. My mom is driving us and she can't believe that I don't know where this girl lives.
We have our picture taken. It is in a frame with other pictures in my mom's bedroom. I am smiling and my ears are bright red. She is blushing.
The only thing I can remember from the dance is that I was amazed at how thin she was because my arms wrapped around her when we slow danced.
I remember sitting in the back seat on the way home trying to pretend that my mom wasn't there. I walked her to the door but I know there is no way in hell that I kissed her...at least I don't think I did...I'm sure that I didn't.
Posted by bbarton at February 15, 2005 03:05 PMYep, they were. LOL
Posted by: Bob on February 16, 2005 05:07 AMI know I am not a mom or dad but I just wanted to look at this site
Posted by: Danielle on January 28, 2006 09:57 AM
Those adolescent years were a nightmare, weren't they?? God. This story is cute, though.
Posted by: Deirdre on February 16, 2005 04:12 AM