I invite Adam, a guy I met at music camp, to my Homecoming Dance. He goes to a school about an hour north of mine, so I feel very special for having imported talent.
We eat. We dance. At the end of the night, he kisses me because my friends goad him on.
The next day, he sends the first love letter I’ve ever received to my AOL account. I print it out and keep it in my keepsake box – a small, cedar box with a dolphin painted on it that I got at the beach the previous summer.
Despite turning 16 in April, I don’t get my driver’s license until September. A lot of my friends are seniors with cars, so I feel no great urgency to drive. Shortly after passing my driver’s test I hit a parked car in a parking lot. Adam is in the passenger seat and I’m too embarrassed to hang out with him after that.
I audition for the school musical, Kiss Me, Kate. I don’t make it, so I sign up for the costume crew. I love being backstage and feel very important.
At my sister’s urging, I join the church choir. I have a piccolo solo in our Christmas Concert.
I go out for the track team again, but my participation centers around my friend Kelly and I using tape from the first aid kit to strap bottles to our hands and playing Edward Gatorade-Hands. One time, we wrap my head in gauze and try to convince my mother that I have a bleeding wound. She isn’t fooled.
As part of Class Board, I help design and create the decorations for Prom. I never get to see them all set up because I don’t have a date to the dance.
(To start with Kindergarten, go here)