It's Kind of Like a Shakespearean Comedy

Attending Bob Jones Junior High, I was always a bit of an outsider. When you use such language as “darn” and find yourself head bobbing to “Down by the Riverside,” that can happen. There are certain levels of rebelliousness, and apparently I had climbed too many rungs.

After a random lunch period, I was approached by a couple friends with good news. Without my consent, they had spent their lunch period asking girls if they would want to be my girlfriend. To this day I still question their friendship. Surprisingly, a girl had said yes. Two questions came to mind: Who? and Why? My friends quickly pointed out that you should never ask why. The answer to the first question was: Amy Weaver. At least I think that was her name. I’m certain it was Amy.

What followed was a confirmation that she indeed did want to be my girlfriend. I should have known then that something was a miss, when she glanced to one side of the room. Her gaze eventually landed on my Bambi sized eyes of hope. If I knew what I know now, I would have recognized the hesitant nod, and the “What the hell have I done” gulp that followed. But I didn’t know better, and I had my first girlfriend. Whoo Hoo!

The first day of our union consisted of us getting to know each other. We had never really spoken before then, and that made for a lot of catching up to do. I would walk her to class, carry her books, and gaze at her across the class room while she gabbed with her gal pals. I was certain she was talking up how wonderful I was. That their faces only showed signs of concern did baffle me.

The next day was the greatest. It was Three Stooges Day. This meant I got to walk her all the way to auditorium, and sit next to her. Our love was blooming! There we were basking in black and white glow of The Stooges, while they tried to haul an ice box up a really big hill. I’m sorry Larry, Curly, and Moe, but you took second place that day. I had my girl sitting next to me. As the lights went up, I showed her my paper bag book cover with “Brad & Amy” written in the corner. There it was again; that hesitant smile.

Day three of our romance was also the end. I went through the same routine: talked, listened, carried books. It was after math class, when she sprinted out of the room, that I finally detected that something was amiss. As I walked to orchestra practice, one of her guy friends ran up to me and filled in the blanks. Amy wasn’t lying when she said she would want to be Brad’s girlfriend. It’s just she meant the other Brad in our class. It was so nice of my friends to not make that distinction. Rather than break my heart immediately, she decided to play along till she could get the nerve to have a friend break the bad news. Maybe, she really wanted to give a chance. Maybe, she just felt guilty and lost, and didn’t know what to do. Maybe that’s just life at Junior High. Bob Jones Junior High.