Come With Me Instead.
When I moved to Blacksburg, Virginia, in the middle of 8th grade, I remember going to the school for the first time. It was after hours and the place was deserted.
Outside by the flag pole I saw the most beautiful boy I’d ever seen. His long dark hair flopped into his eyes as he looked up from the ground. Deep brown eyes met mine.
“Hello!” he said, smiling without abandon, emphasizing the “-lo!” It is obvious now – not then – that he thought I was cute.
His smile was perfect. With teeth like that, I thought, that boy could be a movie star.
I eeked out a tiny “hi” before thrusting my eyes back at the ground. He tried to have a conversation but no matter how welcoming his greeting, I couldn’t respond appropriately.
Years went by, and Jeff stayed gorgeous. He waved at me sometimes, which I never understood. I stared at him from afar, wandered around behind him watching that long hair, waiting for that breathtaking smile.
Jeff was much cooler than me. Our paths didn’t cross; we didn’t have the same friends.
I knew I was moving after 10th grade – which rattled me to the core – so I planned on making my last day of 10th grade unforgettable. I was going to a party!
I was cleaning out my locker for the last time when Jeff appeared behind me.
“Hey,” he said, and I turned around. Those eyes, I thought.
He smiled at me.
“Hey,” I eeked.
I was wearing a halter that tied in front and Jeff reached casually for the tie on the halter as he moved closer. He twirled it in his fingertips, looking right into my eyes as he spoke.
“So a bunch of us are going to the river after school…” Oh my god that voice.
“Cool,” I said, trying to be cool.
“You wanna come with us?” That hair, oh my god – and the river! Being invited to the river was a rite of passage; in more than two years, no one had ever invited me anywhere, let alone to the cool-kid hangout place.
But today, I’d been invited somewhere else, too.
“I can’t,” I said. “I’m going to a party.” At the time, I just wanted to ensure that alcohol would be forthcoming. It was the last day of school; I had to have alcohol.
“Come with me instead,” Jeff said. “It’ll be fun.” He never stopped twirling the tie on my halter. I could barely look at him so close to me. His breath was warm.
“I have to go to this party,” I said. People were waiting for me in the school parking lot; they had whiskey.
Why TODAY?!? I wanted to scream. Why couldn’t you have asked me out even one day earlier? Why did you wait two and a half years?!
“Are you sure?” he said. My eyes, my melting body, could not have sent more mixed signals.
“Yeah, sorry,” I said.
“Okay,” he said, finally dropping the halter tie. “See ya later.”
And Jeff was gone. I never saw him again.
In my innocence, I didn’t recognize that Jeff wasn’t interested in my sparkling personality. I was a mouse-quiet virgin with no clue. The river could have been great fun, but I’m guessing it would have been a less-than-stellar experience for me.
I will never know.
But I’m pretty sure that saying no to Jeff was one of the best choices I ever made.