She wrote the following in my 1963 high school yearbook. "To a smart boy who I wish I had half of his brains. Be good and don't keep your nose in a book. It's too cute to be in there. Lot's of luck at college. Love, Bubbles"
Immediately after reading it a second time, I chased after her down the high school corridor. She hadn't gotten far. Perhaps she was holding back to give me time to catch up.
Hey, I said. "Where're you going?"
"Home. I'm done for the day. What about you?"
I noticed her nose as well. It was definitely pretty cute. For a second, a cold chill went up my spine. My ex-girlfriend had broken up with me a couple of weeks ago, but perhaps she still felt I was off limits. I would hate for Bubbles's nose to be on the receiving end of a punch.
"What a coincidence. I am, too. (I cut my last class.) Let me walk you home."
"Sure!"
We walked out the nearest exit together and headed towards West Second Street.
"So...what're you doing after graduation?"
"Well...my girlfriends and I are planning on going to the closest bar and drinking beer. I just turned eighteen."
"Can I join your group?"
"Why not?"
"Are you hungry?"
"I'm always hungry."
"Wanna grab something to eat at Whalen's (drug store lunch counter)?"
"Good idea, Bennie!"
No comments:
Post a Comment