I always got a little nervous at parties and dances. Most of it came from my fashion sense, or rather, a lack of it. Before I arrived at any event, I thought the outfit that I had put together, usually with the help of my mother and grandmother, was so amazing. I dreamed that I would steal the show with my gorgeous outfit, but it never happened that way. I would start out full of confidence and then begin to be aware of what the other girls were wearing, quickly realizing that I had not chosen the right outfit. Feeling as small as a mouse, but also feeling like I looked as big as a bear, I usually made a beeline for the bathroom to decide what I could take off or rearrange to make the outfit better, not that it really mattered at that point. Everyone had already seen me in the original outfit, so trying to change or alter it did not make it any better.
At last year's Christmas dance, I was sixteen and should have had enough fashion sense to know that my outfit was wrong. I didn't know it was going to be such a disaster that I would need to transfer schools - as if there were another high school in Marble Falls, Texas.
My mother, the crafty quilter, had a great idea for the holidays. She created a new pattern for how make a sweatshirt into a dress. I can still hear her telling her customers, "It is really easy. Just take any old sweatshirt and turn up the edge, and then add some fabric along the bottom, and you have a dress that any girl would love to wear for any occasion. Aren't they just precious?" As if a sweatshirt could ever be made into a fancy dress.
I got the crazy idea to wear the Christmas dress that had been on display in the front window. It was made out of a red sweatshirt with four tiers of Christmas plaid fabric added to the bottom to make a ruffled skirt. Mom wanted to make it more special so she painted a Christmas tree on the front of the sweatshirt, used her Be-dazzler to add some sparkle, then painted ornaments on little wood cutouts to sew to the shirt. A coordinating necklace finished off the outfit. Not satisfied, she painted some matching wood trees and, using the drill; she put holes in them so they could be laced onto the front of my white Keds.
I was mesmerized by my mother's unending talent and ability to coordinate this outfit, and decided that I should wear the entire combination to the Christmas School Dance. I wanted to make it a little more personal and so I added red and white striped knee-high socks and tied coordinating fabric to the ends of my braided pigtails.
When I left my house, my head was full of the comments I would hear from all the other girls at the dance. Cricket, you are so stylish. Your outfit looks great! I can't believe how well it matches. Could you make me one? As I drove to the dance, I practiced my responses. Oh, Thank you. I know. Isn't it so cute? I made it myself. I would love to make an outfit for you. It really is one-of-a-kind.
When I walked in the door, all the chatter in my head screeched to a halt. I could only hear one word in my head as I watched each head in slow motion stop and turn in my direction with eyes wide open and chins dropped, "Alert." Only then did I realize that maybe my outfit was not what I thought it was after all. Disaster is the word that best captures the event and mortified is the word that best captures the anguish I felt when I walked into the gym and realized the colossal mistake I had made.
I quickly scanned the other girls to see where I went wrong. They had on dresses: check. They all had ruffles on the bottom: double check.
Then it clicked.
Their dresses only had one sleeve and were a bit more punk than my choice. They had on tennis shoes too, but theirs were converse high tops, not white Keds with wooden Christmas trees attached to the front. They had ribbons in their hair, but their hair was more teased and their ribbons were not neat or Christmas-colored. Theirs were hot pink and glowed in the dark.
I felt their stares as I walked in. I could almost hear their silent screams. I swear the music stopped and a spot light was turned on me. I panicked and ran out of the gym into the closest bathroom.
Having had experience with this type of moment, I recreated my perfect outfit. I immediately ripped the top. One sleeve: check.
Next, I rolled my socks down, but since they were knee-highs, I then had two giant rolls of red and white socks around my ankles.
I pulled at my hair and messed up my ribbons. Punky hair: double check.
I trashed the wooden trees. I stepped out of the bathroom stall and looked in the mirror to see what my chances were of making a second entrance. I had all the elements of the other girls, but I looked like a Christmas elf who lost a fight. Disappointed, I quickly left to find sanctuary in my car.
Arriving at Jimmie Sue's, I looked down at my light purple shorts and plaid shirt and thought, "If this outfit isn't right, I should be shot and put out of my fashion misery!"
Before I could honk my horn, Jimmy Sue came running out. "What took you so long?" she called looking at her watch.
I groaned as I reached across to unlock her door, "I had to find my suit and then go home to put on my makeup."
"I would have let you use mine. I don't understand your mom. She is so weird."
"I know. Hey, so someone called my house,"
"Who someone?" she giggled.
"Don't know, didn't leave a name, but Nana said it was a boy. Who do you think it was?" I asked, hoping she would say his name.
"I am sure it was Shep. He is so sweet on you."
"Oh really, him?" I began loosing interest in the mysterious caller.
"I know you want it to be Tyler," she sang with an annoying tone.
"You don't have to say it like that," I said with a nudge.
"What? Tyler," she sang again.
"I don't know who called. It could be anyone," I tried to get her off the topic of Tyler.
"Yes it could. What suit are you wearing tonight?"
"My green one."
"Ugh, the one with the black and white stripes on the side." She rolled her eyes.
"Yes. It's my favorite."
"It is a one piece."
"I know. I happen to like it."
"No one wears them any more. At least no one under the age of sixty."
"I do," I said firmly. I was not interested in wearing a two-piece swimsuit. Ever. Especially in front of people I knew.
"They are so old fashioned. And that one is so..."
I interrupted her, "Don't knock it. My dad gave it to me. Well, he really gave it to my mother, and I happen to like it." Dad had brought it back from Italy, for my mother. She never liked it, but it fit me great when I grew up. I liked to imagine that he was had given the swimsuit to me. It had the cutest wrap that I tied at my waist to create a slit that showed off my long legs.
We arrived at the swimming pool, and I checked out the line to go inside. I looked down at my outfit again, "I'm okay."
I took a deep breath and walked into the Dip N' Dance with Jimmy Sue, wondering what the night would be like. My swimsuit and wrap were rolled up in the bag on my shoulder. All the girls were barefoot in bikinis with mini skirts.
I did not want to put on my swimsuit. How could I explain to the girls that I wasn't allowed to wear a bikini? I wondered if any of them had such insane rules in their house. Duh, obviously not since they were all in bikinis.
I headed over to the snack shack to get an ice cream. Jimmy Sue was already talking to a group of boys and motioned for me to join her. Instead, I got a swirl ice cream cone and sat on the grass to wait for her to finish talking. Once seated, I looked up to see Shep standing over me.
"I called you today."
My heart sank, "Oh, it was you. My grandmother said a boy called and would not leave his name."
"Well that was because I had already called three times earlier to ask if you were coming tonight, and she would not tell me."
"Three times? She did not mention that part. She only said that a boy would not leave his name."
"I think she was tired of talking to me. Want to dance?"
"I am kind of eating an ice cream cone right now. Maybe in a little bit."
"How about a swim?"
"I really need to wait till my food has digested."
Loosing hope, he asked, "Can I sit?" Before I could answer, the lifeguard made an announcement.
"It's time for the greased watermelon competition. All the girls need to get in the pool." With a big squeal, all the girls jumped in. Shep nudged me with his shoulder.
"Aren't you going to try?"
"No. Are you?"
The lifeguard opened a can of Crisco shortening and began to lather a watermelon. He tossed the watermelon into the pool. It sank and then popped back out of the water. The girls wrestled and fought over the flying watermelon. Some of them got hit pretty hard in the face, but none could get the watermelon.
Then the lifeguard blew his whistle and said, "All right boys, your turn."
Shep stood up, took off his t-shirt, looked down at me, and said, "That baby is mine."
There was a huge round of splashes as the boys jumped into the pool and began to fight over the watermelon. Shep was trying so hard to get it, but it would just shoot out of his arms. A voice bellowed from someone coming out of the boy's locker room.
"All right boys, step aside. It is time for a man to show you how it's done."
With all the commotion, I could not see who parted the girls standing at the edge of the pool until he bounced onto the diving board and dove in with sheer grace. It was Tyler, and my heart jumped.
Thinking he couldn't get the watermelon either, the other boys scattered away from the watermelon left floating in the middle of the pool. Tyler emerged and wrestled the watermelon, then swam to the side of the pool, climbed the stairs and slammed it onto the pavement, splitting it into pieces.
"Now that is how it is done boys," he hooted. Three boys jumped out of the pool and pulled him back in where they all took turns trying to dunk him.
My heart was racing. Tyler had arrived at the Dip N' Dance, and made one heck of an entrance.
"Did you see that?" Jimmy Sue shouted as she ran to me, "What a show off!"
"Yeah, what a show off," I repeated.
In our school system, ninth grade was part of the junior high school. When you're a sophomore, you move to the high school across the street. A bridge connects the two schools, and freshmen have the option to take an elective class at the high school.
I was late for my first class of my freshman year because I had volunteered to walk Beth, a blind junior-high student, to all of her classes for the first two weeks of school. I had taken her to math class and was trying to navigate my way to photography class. I was very nervous crossing the bridge to the senior high school, and I hadn't listened to instructions well in homeroom that morning. I had no idea what the letters in front of the room numbers meant and wondered, Why do they have room numbers like PL302, especially on long hallways?
There were no other students or teachers to ask, so I was walking down the hall looking at every door number when I heard the squeak of a shoe behind me. I turned around hoping to find someone to help me.
A handsome boy was running right at me. I froze, held my folder tight to my chest and braced for the hit. He dropped and slid on his knees, and stopping right at my feet with his arms spread wide and shouted, "Hey there, Cutie. Will you marry me?"
I blushed, swallowed and questioned, "Excuse me?"
He jumped to his feet and looked over his shoulder at the girl at the end of the hallway, "See. I told you I would ask the next girl I saw to marry me if you break up with me."
She yelled back at him, "I don't want to talk to you right now."
He ran toward her, "You know you love me so stop doing that." He reached her and kissed her on the cheek. "I'm sorry, Baby. Forgive me." He put his arm around her waist, looked back at me and winked.
"Sorry, Sweetie. Looks like she wants me back, but promise me that you will be my wife someday."
Embarrassed, I turned away from him and bumped right into another boy, Shep. We found our way to the photo lab together.
That was my introduction to high school, and to Tyler. He was new to Marble Falls. He had moved here during the summer but seemed to feel right at home at Marble Falls High School.
Stacy, another classmate and friend, diverted my attention from Tyler and brought me back to the dance by whispering in my ear, "I packed you a suit."
"I am not wearing it."
Jimmy Sue was standing by Stacy and spoke first. "Yes, you are."
"You cannot make me."
"Oh please," said Stacy.
"No way! Besides, I have my period and can't swim anyway."
"I don't believe you," chimed Jimmy Sue. Before she could go on though, she caught a glimpse of a boy she was talking to earlier, and her attention was averted. "Oh my gosh! There is Derek. Let's go say hi to him."
Walking toward Derek, I saw Tyler out of the corner of my eye.
"Hello Ladies," Derek said with his arms outstretched. Jimmy Sue and Stacy hugged him. I just waved.
"Hi Derek." Jimmy Sue responded, a little too excited with her arm still around him. He spoke to the three of us.
"We were just heading to play some basketball. Want to come?"
"Sure," I replied. We went and sat on the bleachers by the court to watch. Derek came and grabbed us by our hands.
"I asked if you wanted to come play, not to watch."
"I think I will just watch," I answered as I sat back down.
"I'd love to play," Jimmy Sue jumped to hold Derek's hand and pulled on my arm. "Come on."
They dragged me out onto the court. I wasn't good at basketball in gym class and I felt awkward and totally confused.
Then I heard Jimmy Sue yell. "Ouch! Oh my gosh." She hurt her hand and was crying. "Why do we always do this?" she asked me.
"It's okay. I don't think we are meant to be athletes. One of us is always getting hurt. Wait here. I'll get some ice."
As I ran back toward the pool entrance I could hear Derek say to another player, "I think she broke it." I raced to the snack shack and got some ice. When I came back her finger was already turning purple. Derek looked at me and instructed.
"Go get a lifeguard."
"A lifeguard? What does he know about fingers? I will take her home. Her dad is a doctor. He can look at it."
Just then the lifeguard arrived and glanced at her finger. "She's just jammed her finger."
I was secretly elated and thinking, "Jimmy Sue has a jammed finger. Awesome. Now we can leave."
That ended our night at the Dip N' Dance. I was disappointed that I didn't get to see much of Tyler, but happy that I never had to put on a swimsuit.