November 1981:
I'd managed to get good grades during the 1st nine weeks of the semester, plus had a new boyfriend. I began to relax and notice other kids in my classes.
One guy in my 3rd hour P.E. class looked like a guy in my 4th hour Algebra class. I took a second look; no, they were two different people. In P.E., we began a weight-lifting unit, and the good-looking one I'd noticed was paired with me, courtesy of our teacher.
Since I had no idea what I was doing, and Mr. Good-Looking did, I followed him around and copied his movements (often too heavy for me, lol!) We reached the machine where you hook your feet under the bars to raise the weights, and I guess he decided to take pity on me.
"You want me to change the weights?"
My pride rose. "No; if you can do it, so can I." I went on to successfully lift the 100lb weights; got up and said, "See? What's so hard about that?"
The next day, I could not get out of bed. Further inspection showed I'd probably torn or at least pulled the muscles in my legs. Mom wrapped both knees and sent me off to P.E. with a note. I limped into class; the teacher told me to only run one lap instead of two. So after our warm up exercises, I followed along at a much slower pace, sort a wounded horse gallop.
Mr. Good-Looking lapped me, dragging one leg behind him. "Oh, my leg. Oh, my leg!"
"Shut up Cross!" (his last name was on his T-shirt.)
"I offered to reset the weights!"
This went on for two more days. He and I badgered each other during our one and only class, and when the swimming until began, I proved to be the only female swimmer who could almost out-swim the boys. And one fatal day, B (yes, I finally asked him his first name!) and I were on opposite sides of the pool (we swam the width, not the length, and in the deep end). I dove in; surfaced, and began my crawl stroke. All of a sudden, my right hand landed on a bare shoulder at the same time one landed on mine. Next thing I know, we're hugging each other and heading for the bottom of the pool. We let go of each other, surfaced, apologized, then went on our merry way. And took some ribbing from other classmates about making out, lol!
That was also the day my boyfriend K had asked me to meet him after class, so instead of going out the doors I usually did, I joined B and a few others at the other exit to the gym.
"I hear you're dating K. Why him?"
"Why not him? We're both in band, and we spent a lot of time together last month."
"He has no neck. How can you date a guy like that?"
I was beginning to fume. "He does too have a neck. Why don't you mind your own business?"
By this time, we'd reached my meeting spot. I saw K and stopped walking. B grinned, shook his head, and continued on.
The next day, B again questioned my reasons behind dating K. And then when I turned around to walk with him, K was upset.
"Why are you walking down the hall with HIM? He's an ass."
"He's in my class, and just a jerk. He caught up with ME, not the other way around."
But by the end of the month, B and I were on friendly terms, while my relationship with K was strained, since I lived six miles out of town and neither of us had our drivers licenses yet. And Marching Band contests were over, so we only saw each other in the hallway before lunch, or after school. And none of our other classes 'meshed', so we didn't even see each other during the passing periods.
Next Month: Good Gossip Travels Fast and The Curse of My Neighbor Haunts Me! (Yes, it's funny!)
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