Twentieth Century Limited Book One - Age of Heroes. Jan David Blais
wasn’t. I looked around to see who was waiting to pounce but nobody else was even sizing her up! I elbowed Omer. “What do you think?”
He moved out to get a look, then came back. “You better make your move fast. Boy, is she stacked!”
Stacked? Honest to God, I hadn’t even noticed. She was wearing a sweater that wasn’t all that tight but now that I looked he was right, but as I said before, for me the face was what mattered. And so there is no misunderstanding, let me say my standards were extremely high. At times I worried why some of my friends seemed so successful with girls but I rationalized that by thinking there were plenty of girls I could ask, but not many met my standards. It wasn’t that I had to be in love with somebody to be interested in them – not exactly, but close. My glasses had a lot to do with this. They gave me this serious look, because glasses imply a person is studious, which in my case happened to be true, though not to the exclusion of normal interests like sports and so on. And a person who was serious about things, or at least looked serious, had to act serious, he couldn’t fool around as much, if you know what I mean. So when that kind of person asks a girl out, it means something.
Shake, Rattle and Roll was on – too fast. I looked around. A couple other kids in the area now. Finally, the last few bars... please let the next one be slow. I took a deep breath and exhaled, when Mr. Tambourini the History teacher came over the microphone – he was acting as deejay. “We’ll take a break now. Be back in ten minutes.”
Ten minutes! No way I could just talk with her for ten minutes. At least when the music was on you didn’t have to say that much. Omer was pulling at my sleeve. “Let’s get a coke.”
“Go ahead. I’m going to hang around.” I wasn’t about to let her out of my sight.
I was happy to be rid of Omer so I could concentrate. The crowd began to thin but now a couple of guys, seniors, were lurking, pointing at different girls and making obnoxious remarks. The object of my desire was still there with her friend. All of a sudden she turned and our eyes met. I looked away. When I looked back she was looking away but then she quickly looked back to see if I was looking back, which I was. I thought I saw her smile... she said something to the girl next to her and they giggled. Were they laughing at me? Now I was watching like a hawk... one more laugh and that was it, she’d never know what she missed. I must have been there a couple of minutes but they just went on talking so I figured it was something else.
Where was Mr. Tambourini? Where was Omer, though I didn’t really care. Finally, the music started again. The Great Pretender. Perfect! I steadied myself and closed in, brushing back my hair and straightening my glasses with my finger. Some kids were already dancing. I noticed she was quiet again, just staring at the floor.
“Uh, excuse me.” She looked at me... God, was she beautiful. “Would you like to dance?” I expected her to say no. I mean, I wouldn’t have blamed her, but then...
“Sure.”
She stepped onto the floor and turned to see if I was there. She had done this before. “My name’s Sandra.” My hand was around her waist. Her hand was on my shoulder. I fumbled to get hold of her other hand and started my box to the music.
Owowowowowoyesss! I’m the great preetennderrrr…
“I’m Paul Bernard. I’m a Senior here.” I wished I were ten years older.
“I’m at Saint X, I’m a Junior.” Turned out she even knew Catherine slightly. I asked her what courses she was taking and so on, and we danced on, my box acting well, she doing hers backwards. I began thinking maybe it was time to try my other step where you pivot and turn ninety degrees. The one-eighty I hadn’t yet mastered.
“It’s been warm, hasn’t it,” she said. “Do you think it’ll ever snow?”
“Yeah, but I don’t mind. I have a pretty long walk. It’s better than freezing.”
“I take the bus usually.”
“Where do you live?”
“Warwick.”
Warwick! The other side of the earth. “How’d you get here tonight?”
“My friend’s boy friend has a car.”
“You’re here with some girls.” Omer flashed through my mind, but I quickly decided let him take care of himself.
She was quiet for a moment. “We saw you looking at us.”
“I... I was trying to figure out if you wanted to dance.”
“That is why we came, you know,” she smiled. It made her look even prettier, if that was possible.
“I meant with me...”
At this she laughed out loud, then recovered quickly, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t laughing at you but you know, you’re really funny.”
Whatever I thought of myself, being funny wasn’t part of it, funny in the sense of, well, fun. I hoped she didn’t mean the other kind of funny. Suddenly she put her arm around my neck and came closer, now my glasses were brushing her hair and I couldn’t even see her face, which was nearly resting on my shoulder. I could feel her... bosom, I guess you’d say. When you’re with your friends or thinking about things there are words for it but when it’s a girl right in front of you... Omer was right, she was big.
Then... damn! Here it comes again, a mind of its own. At least it wasn’t an occasion of sin this time, I wasn’t thinking about anything and we were hardly touching except where she couldn’t help it but still I decided to back off. I didn’t want her thinking she’d started something like I did between Omer and Rita Hayworth, but then again, this is what you hope happens, up to a certain point but not beyond if you follow me. I moved my feet back from hers a little. This helped but it was awkward. I wondered what we looked like. She was still holding me around the neck, tighter than ever. The image of an open ladder, side view, came to mind.
I’m wearing my heart like a crown…pretending that you’re still around.
When the music stopped she let go but didn’t leave. Like I said, it was very bright out there and Jim told me the Brothers sometimes actually separated kids. Leave room for the Holy Ghost, they’d say, stuff like that.
“Want to dance again?” She smiled and nodded.
I was looking around to see if somebody would try and ace me out and, strange thing, this guy standing next to us with his arm around a girl was staring at Sandra and the girl he was with had this really angry look on her face. I turned the other way and another guy, his girl was tugging at him. Sandra seemed flustered. She knew guys stared. Thankfully the music started and I resumed my box, less nervous now but troubled by what I’d just seen. “You come to these a lot?” I ventured.
“Not very often.” She paused as if to say something. There was this sweet, sad expression on her face. “They, well, they’re usually not much fun.”
That was the last thing I expected her to say. Being so beautiful and all, she ought to be the most popular girl in the whole place, then again, when I first saw her she wasn’t dancing. And what Omer said, the first words out of his mouth, and these guys staring at her... she was embarrassed because she looked so great! Maybe guys were so overcome by her looks they were afraid to ask her to dance, or for a date, the kind of guys a nice girl like her would want to know. Suddenly this wave of confidence came over me. If what Sandra wanted was an ordinary person who wouldn’t try to do anything or at least not that much, somebody she could be with and not worry about things... I glowed inside. This was me to a T.
We were out there a long time, some fast dances too, talking about everything, even between the numbers. She liked baseball – unfortunately she was a Yankee fan though her being Italian I could accept that. Ianello was her name, she was the oldest of seven, all boys but her. At the break, she said she had to check in with her friends which I understood, she’d come with them, after all. Omer found me. He was looking pretty gloomy. “You