She was a bit surprised that Jake didn’t spend any time with her but then the other kids kept her so busy that she hardly noticed. Finally about six a loud horn sounded and everyone headed back for dinner. Fifty pre-teens headed for the picnic tables which were piled with hotdogs, hamburgers, corn-on-the-cob, chips, sodas, and a dozen different pies.
Ginni stopped to hang her towel on a line with the other wet things when a whisper came from the other side.
“Hey
Virginia, come here.” It was Jake and he seemed nervous.
She slipped between the damp hangings and found herself in a small round copse of trees. It was closed all around except for the mouth, covered by the drying line. All sounds of laughing and eating were deadened by the towels. There stood Jake, holding a bouquet of fresh wildflowers and smiling.
“HereTheseAreForYou” he blurted out and shoved them in her face. For once his cool had failed him.
“Thank you” she replied rather shyly. No one had ever given her flowers before. The experience was entirely new and fraught with dangers untold.
“I’m glad you could make it to the party,” he ventured, “It wouldn’t have been as much fun without you.”
Ginni took a step closer to the boy and noticed for the first time how adult he looked. His arms had some definition from hard work, there was a fine sheen of blond hair across his upper lip, and his eyes seemed to be peering directly into her heart, which was beating rather fast at the moment.
“I was kinda surprised you invited me,” she sighed and gazed into his eyes with longing. He edged forward so their breath perfumed the air between them.
“Why wouldn’t I invite the prettiest girl in the school?” he ventured. Almost at once he looked away, fearful that he had gone too far.
Her hand lifted, almost of its own accord, and brushed the shock of blond hair from his eyes. He turned obediently to stare into hers. Ginni’s heart was racing faster than ever. She knew intellectually what was happening; could describe the chemical reactions in the brain and how certain glands were excreting dopamine and adrenaline. But for that she was still caught in the moment, all fears, all doubt, everything faded into nothingness. She was completely unprepared for what happened next.
She closed her eyes and trembled to feel that first kiss. Somehow her arms were wrapped around his neck; he was leaning forward; the whole world outside their tiny cell disappeared in the anticipation of discovery and joy; she felt a firm pressure to her lips…which was cold and slimy.
She leapt back in shock. “Jake?!” she cried in bewilderment. She saw that he had the same look on his face as must be on hers. Standing there grinning evilly was Amy Willingham, holding up the large wet catfish which so recently she had dangled between their puckers.
A roar of laughter arose and Ginni’s head jerked around to see that the clothesline concealing them had been dropped to the ground. Every kid in their 8th grade class was staring, pointing, laughing and mocking. The few parents attending the picnic were too befuddled to realize what had just happened.
Not one person in a hundred would have thought Virginia Shelton could be made speechless. She always knew what to say and had no fear of saying it. Right now however, her jaw was immovably set.
“Hey Verbrainia,” said Amy in her most horrible sing-song voice. “You didn’t think I was going to let you kiss my boyfriend did you?”
Jake looked as stunned as Ginni but had not yet found his own voice.
Amy slid her arms into Jake’s and gave him a huge, intimate hug, but her eyes never left Ginni.
“We’ve been planning this for weeks. I don’t care how smart you are. You’re just a naïve little girl.”
Something odd began to happen then. A burning sensation in
Virginia’s face, the muscles twitched, her stomach disappeared entirely, and for the first time since she was two-and-a-half, Ginni began to cry. Tears flooded down and wet her swimsuit anew. Most of the kids fell silent, some looked away embarrassed for her. A select few of the most popular kids though, began to chant in unison:
Surprised you had it in ya,
You held a fish,
And loved his kiss,
What boy could ever win ya?
“Or would want to”, hissed Amy with every bit of venom she could muster.
Ginni’s face glazed over with suppressed rage. She knew, had known from the first moment Jake had talked to her, that this had to be one colossal attempt to ruin her life. She hated these kids. She hated Amy. And above all, she HATED Jake Swartz.
He turned to her and pleaded with his eyes. All he could do was shake his head and mouth the word “no” but it was too late for that. Ginni grabbed her towel, rammed on her sandals and, with shoulders squared, walk stoically through the crowd toward the adults.
“Mrs. Carson, I’m not feeling well. I wonder if you could take me home.”
Everything had happened so quickly that the parents saw only a large laugh rise up from the pack of wild 12-year-olds. They were glad everyone was enjoying themselves.
“Are you okay
Virginia dear? You haven’t been stung by anything? Your face looks puffy.”
A tiny little man inside her heart had just finished a very important job. His chore was to take every bit of excitement, joy and hope she had felt at the idea of kissing Jake; wrap it tightly in a blanket of forgetfulness; shove it roughly into an empty closet; and lock the door forever. Boys weren’t worth the pain she decided.
“No ma’am. I just want to go home.”
Ginni told her mother very little about what had happened and somehow the story never reached her through normal adult channels. It seemed as if the whole town, with the exception of Amy and her gang, wanted to put the embarrassing event behind them.
To her immense relief, one good thing did come as a result: a number of girls came to know Ginni and realized that she wasn’t the stuck-up prig everyone assumed her to be. In fact, she was a good and loyal friend. They were neither the most popular, nor the smartest. They weren’t the athletes, the singers, the musicians or the student government. But they were kind and Ginni was thankful.
Her 15
th birthday coincided with that year’s Junior/Senior Prom. When
Virginia steadfastly refused to even consider the idea her parents put their collective feet down.
“
Virginia darling, you simply must go. It is important for a girl to have these experiences.”
“You mean it is a rite of passage without which I will never feel as if I have fully qualified into the greater society.” The air of superiority was unmistakable.
Ginni had long since surpassed her parents in knowledge and intellect. But they knew their daughter and trotting out psychological or sociological terms was her way of building a protective wall.
Theo cleared his throat and took her in a warm embrace.
“Baby, we understand how hard it is being…special. People get jealous and lash out at things they don’t comprehend.”
She pulled away abruptly and eyed her father with the overt frustration of someone trying to teach an infant how to count.
“Father, I am not trying to avoid going out with a boy. I just don’t know any that I want to be with…for a good time…in public…AT A DANCE!” she almost yelled. Hannah Shelton’s mouth had dropped open and her face appeared scandalized. Theophilus was grinning widely while deep belly laughs shook him from head to toe.
Virginia began to laugh gently, once more hugged her father, and then whispered, “Shut-up Dad.” He had always, and would always, be her number one guy.
Mr. Shelton arranged for her to be escorted by the son of a fellow teacher at William Byrd High. Special permission was granted for her to take a boy her own age though he was only in middle school. Afterwards they would go with her friends to the café for soda and ice cream. Then the kids would drive down to
Roanoke for a movie.
Grace Peters’ boy seemed nice enough, even if he had a bit of a reputation as a cut-up. He was going to Hidden Valley in Roanoke for some reason that nobody was quite sure of, but it was never said he was anything less than kind. This was exactly what the Shelton’s wanted for their baby girl’s social debut.
The prom was unremarkable in any way. Burgundy and orange streamers graced the gym ceiling and balloons floated lazily in mid-air, depending upon how much helium had already escaped. A huge paper-mache terrier sat in one corner, wearing a football jersey and chewing on the long golden locks of a Northside High Viking.
Dozens of girls gathered on one side of the hall twittering loudly. Their excitement ran at a fever pitch as they examined, evaluated and exuded over each and every dress or hair style to come through the door. The young men were equally engaged at the other end, comparing how good their dates looked and asking about plans for after-parties.
Virginia and Simon stepped into the darkened building and was immediately the object of intense scrutiny.
“Who did she come with”, hissed around the room.
“Isn’t that Simon Peters, the kid who stole Terry Terrier before homecoming last year?” echoed in reply.
Then a raised voice said, “Yeah, my little brother knows him. Let’s go kick his butt!”
Simon was nervous enough coming to a high school prom. His mom made him come as a favor to her friend Mr. Shelton and the misunderstanding about their school mascot didn’t help. Yes he took the dog but only to frame Patrick Henry High. He wanted to start a prank war with the Patriots but needed someone with a driver’s license as co-conspirator. If he, Simon, were to “rescue” the dog then any number of William Byrd Terriers would be happy to drive him to
Roanoke on missions. Fate was not on his side though as a pair of cheerleaders espied him painting Terry Terrier red, white and blue. The little tri-corn hat was already perched jauntily on the furry beast’s head. It was one of the few times a joke had gone wrong and hurt his reputation fairly bad.
A large group of football players lumbered toward him and Virginia. She turned and muttered, “I think they are coming over to make fun of me. Try to ignore them.”
She looked mortified and wished over and over that this crowd would just let her alone. Ginni was therefore a bit taken aback when they walked right past her without a word and confronted Simon.
“Hey Peters you dork. What are you doing here? I thought you liked Patrick Henry.”
“Guys, guys”, he said with his palms showing, “I ain’t got nothin’ against Byrd. I was just trying to have a little fun.”
“I got some fun for you right here”, growled a burly senior and reached out to grab Simon by the lapels.
At that moment a number of seemingly unrelated things happened: several balloons popped; doors slammed shut all around the gym; and the lights were extinguished to be replaced with a blue laser beam scattered by the disco ball which created a strobe effect.
Simon managed to dodge his attacker and throw himself headlong into an unsuspecting (and smaller) boy blocking his escape. They bowled over onto the floor in a mass of flailing limbs. The larger boys reacted quickly but the lights had bought Simon the split-second he needed. Rolling over toward the refreshment table, he grabbed a punch bowl and heaved it into the gang’s path.
The highly polished and suddenly wet floor, combined with their frantic movements and slick dress shoes, served to create a scene directly out of the Keystone Kops. The five ball players kept falling over each other and yelling ever more vulgar obscenities as Simon laughed heartily at their quandary.
With a flair of gallantry he removed the overcoat from his shoulders, draped it over Ginni and escorted her out the front doors into the cool evening air. Following in their train were 30 couples cheering the overthrow of William Byrd’s ruling clique.
Simon proved to be a singularly boring date unless there was some kind of trouble going on. He listened politely but without interest to the conversation and offered little of his own. After the second hour his eyes glazed over and Ginni knew he would find an excuse to avoid the movie. Two years of psychology courses told her that Simon was a very self-conscious boy who acted out as a defense mechanism. He would never hurt anyone intentionally and deep down, underneath all the joking, he was a very shy gentleman who idolized women.
“Shame I won’t see him again,” she thought as they pulled up to his home and Simon leapt from the car’s back seat, “He might be worth knowing some day.”
For the next three years
Virginia was quite content to ignore the local boys, keep busy and look forward to college where, she was sure, everyone would be far more mature.
