Jaunts ‘Round the Corner
Spring 1981 turned a new leaf in my development — I believe I morphed from “kid” to “young adult.”
At 14, I was roller-skating on Willow Street pretty regularly and a boy in my class, Mike S, lived around the corner.
“Sweetheart” by Frankie And the Knockouts
Frankie And the Knockouts – Sweetheart
We eventually developed an interest in each other, and suddenly this lent a bit more thrill to my skating jaunts. We also had Homeroom together in school, and I noticed something blossoming there. He began to get more flirty.
It was a strange and mildly electric feeling, this mutual attraction that neither one of us acted upon at first.
This school year was starting to get fun. I hung with a bunch of really nice kids, including Beth, Deena, Bridget, Anne, Celine and Karen.
We all went on school trips with our grade to Great Adventure, the 9th Grade picnic at Thompson Park, and Washington, D.C. Mike and I were eyeing each other at all these events; he was with his friends and I was with mine.
On the D.C. trip, we were placed on separate buses, so we missed each other on the ride down and back. But we made up for it before and after. He said I was beautiful on that trip.
Since I was the first in our social group to experience romance of any sort, we gossiped with that girlish giggly speculation about this young Jude Law look-alike who was of sudden interest to me.
Sweetheart by Frankie and the Knockouts and All Those Years Ago by George Harrison are the two musical winners for this time of my life.
First Kiss
By late May 1981, Mike and I were hanging out often. One evening after the sun went down, we were in my back yard talking and pretty much relishing that “feeling.” It was getting time for him to leave, as homework beckoned.
As I started for the gate, he stepped forward and said my name. I hesitated and that’s when we had our (and my) first kiss.
It felt unfamiliar and nice and very intimate at the same time. I thought, This guy really likes me. I’ll venture I gave him the same impression.
It lasted just a few seconds, then Mike stole off into the deepening shadows. I thought about what I would tell my friends at school the next day.
That night as I got ready for bed, Mom was in the room and she turned off my light for me. I let her know what had happened that evening, and we had a lighthearted, frank talk about it. I’m sure Mom expected this eventually … and as hoped, she was completely cool about it.
Of course, Deena and my other pals wanted details. The 9th Grade Semi-Formal was approaching, and Mike asked me to go with him; it was to be our First Date.
Big Night
Mom took me shopping for a knockout dress (appropriate for 14, of course) for the occasion. We went to a nice boutique, and we chose a flattering white spaghetti-strap flowing below-the-knee number with plum and purple accents.
Somehow, we found the PERFECT open-toed shoes to match. We went out for Chinese food afterward. Mom always made everything so special.
The night of the dance, Mike’s mother brought him over for pictures in my back yard, and both moms snapped away. Mike wore a gray pin-stripe suit and bestowed upon me a pretty corsage.
“Turn It On Again” by Genesis
I pinned on his carnation boutonnière as we posed and smiled with some giddy embarrassment. Mom drove us to the school; Mrs. S was to pick us up after the dance.
The typically bland fluorescent-lit school cafeteria assumed a dreamy, romantic glow, with candles and white tablecloths on each of the little round tables.
I found Deena and another of my friends, Beth, sitting at our table, chatting animatedly. A DJ played popular music in the background. As of this update, my friend Celine reminded me that the theme of the event was Stairway to Heaven.
Mike and I were visibly “together” that evening, as we slow-danced and kissed often. Deena told me she was “so happy things are working out with you and Mike.”
His sidekick, John B (more like gum on his shoe, as I saw it), was dateless and hanging around with some other guys who went stag.
It was a time of real enchantment in my short life, and I had a wonderful time. I remembered the previous year, as an eighth-grader, peering into the cafeteria the Friday afternoon before the dance, intrigued by the cotillion-like setup awaiting that evening’s lucky attendees.
And now here I was, with a new boyfriend, a part of that excitement.
Mike once told me his dad had made reference to me with a wink: “She’s gonna be a looker, that one …” (OK, keep them dungarees zipped, Mr. S.)
