I was watching an episode of Malcolm in the Middle on Hulu yesterday. It was the episode in which Malcolm finds himself confounded by the new girl at school, Cynthia. Malcolm finds she makes him happy, angry, amused, upset, and confused – worst of all, he just doesn’t know what’s happening to him. Talk about identifying with a character.
Christine Hodgekiss was my first crush. This was back in 7th grade I believe and she was one of my dance partners in my music class. I didn’t actually like her when that class began; she was just another classmate I knew who might as well been a GI Joe or Barbie doll from the waist down. Even as we danced – we did a lot of dancing and hardly any music appreciation and never played instruments – it was all completely innocent.
Then a new kid showed up, just some guy who had the misfortune of walking into a situation where he didn’t know anyone. As fate, or stupidity, would have it some of my friends and I got the bright idea to write the new kid a note saying Christine wanted to ‘meet’ him after school at the football field. Keeping Christine in the dark, naturally he would get stood up. For reasons I can’t explain, this idea was hilarious to us; maybe we were just dicks. But as the time approached to actually give the new kid a letter, I started to reconsider the idea, though I couldn’t place my finger on the reason why.
One of us went through with the note anyway and wouldn’t you know it, the poor sap bought it and got stood up. I remember seeing him walking down my block on his way home while some of my friends and I played football in the yard. (Your Honor, if it helps rehabilitate my character at all, when I saw him that day I felt like a jerk for helping to pull this prank on him.) A few days later – or maybe it was the next day – Christine caught wind of the prank and started talking to the kid. It was like someone lit a fire under the cauldron of my belly.
I remember sitting in the cafeteria one day, trying to eat but finding myself too confused to have an appetite. I kept asking myself, Why do I care? Do I ‘like’ her? Wait; what? That doesn’t make any sense. I went back and forth on this until it dawned on me and I accepted the fact that I did like her and not in the same way I liked my other friends. This made me petrified of Christine. What do I do now? Do I tell her? What do I say? How does this work? I had no clue. I didn’t have a whiff of a clue. And then we had to dance together.
When we started to dance and we held hands like we’d already done at least a dozen times, I must have been acting oddly because I remember her asking me if I was alright, or words to that effect. Jesus, no, I’m not okay. Total system failure in your proximity! But I can’t say that, can I?! Whatever the song was seemed to last FOREVER and I think I broke out in a sweat at some point. It was so bad I started to look forward to dancing with another girl I hated for being too tall for me. The class ended a few weeks later during which time I was a total basket case and never told Christine.
The crush didn’t last long after that. I soon found myself attracted to every girl who breathed my way. To quote a classic 80’s song, “I’m in love, yeah yeah, at least every minute or two / Until the next time a girl walks by, I think I love her too.” Oh, the names I remember. Unfortunately, if love were a game of chess, I finished out high school barely able to play checkers. As I would find out from some platonic girl friends years later, I had no game. As It turns out, I’m good with my hands so the jokes on everyone who missed out! Sigh, the wonder years.
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All Rights Reserved (c) December 2018 John J Vinacci