Romance blossoms at the school play. April is a freshman. Parents can be mean |
This story is different from what I usually write. I like to think that I usually write science fiction. This is a teen romance. I was inspired to write this a couple years ago by, of all things, a GIF of a girl dancing in what looks like a classroom. It is based on my memories of a girl I met in the fall of 1975 at tryouts for my high school play. I like to write in the first person. I wrote it from his POV first, and was unsatisfied with it. So I rewrote it from her POV. I like both versions, so I have posted both versions here. Please read "It Started Backstage (Her POV)" too and let me know which one you like better. I hope you like this story. Thank you. Smiles, Dad IT STARTED BACKSTAGE (HIS POV) Tryouts for the New Meadows High School Drama Club Fall play were held in late September of my sophomore year, a couple weeks after the beginning of the 1975 school year. Mrs. Jenkins, the Drama Coach, called us together in the gym. “We had a very nice donation of costumes over the summer,” she said. “A local playwright donated them. With the condition that we produce one of his plays. Therefore, I have chosen ‘The Downfall of Van Dyke Thomas’ by Charles Kring. He is unknown, but the play is pretty good.” I took a copy of the play. Set in 1931 New York City, it was a drama about the downfall of a wealthy tycoon. Reading through it, I realized I was not a good candidate for any of the lead roles, but I picked out a couple minor roles I thought would be a good fit for me. Auditions for the play were held after school a week later. It was the first time I noticed HER. The action in the first act takes place in the board room of his company; the second act was set in a palatial ballroom during a gala reception; the third act was set in a courtroom. We’d use the same sets, just change the furniture. I signed up to try out for several bit parts, and, despite my lack of talent, was called in for second auditions which the playwright, Charles Kring, attended. “Margaret … Mrs. Jenkins asked me to watch auditions tonight," he said. "You might notice that the people you might think of as candidates for the lead roles aren’t here. That’s because this audition isn’t for them.” “I know you’ve all read the play,” Mrs. Jenkins continued. “As you know, the second act is at a ball. If you do not wish to dance, you may leave now.” She waited a minute. When no one left, she continued. “If you are chosen to dance, there is still a chance you will have another speaking role elsewhere in the play. Just not in this scene.” “This oughta be easy for you,” my best friend Dave whispered to me. “You know, with your Mom running that dance studio in Springfield.” I looked at the girls. “I’d like to dance with several of them,” I whispered. “Not that any of ‘em’d dance with you any other time.” I playfully pushed him. He pushed me back. “Now, boys,” Mrs. Jenkins scolded us mildly. “Pay attention.” “Dave. Jo. You got first.” She played a waltz, and Dave tried. He tried hard. But he didn’t know how to waltz. In less than a minute, she stopped the dance and put my best friend out of his misery. She got several other boys through the audition before calling me to center stage. “I’ve learned the waltz, Mrs. Jenkins,” I said hopefully. “Good, Ken. You’ll dance with Maureen.” Oh. Maureen, I thought. Maureen. Maureen the cheerleader. She had to choose Maureen The Maureen I’d been in love with since the sixth grade. Maureen. Who’d made it perfectly clear that she wouldn’t go to the homecoming dance with me EVER. No way! No how! Uh-uh! No! NEVER! And Mrs. Jenkins wants me to dance with her. Undisguised disgust covered her face as she approached me. I stiffly took her in my arms. “This ISN’T a date, Ken,” she sneered. “I know,” I said meekly, my eyes on her shoes. “We’re just auditioning for the play.” “Exactly!” But I still had the knock-out A-list cool kid cheerleader girl of my dreams in my arms. And ... I was horrible. I’d have had to improve to be terrible. I was as nervous as I’d ever been in my life. I was stiff. My timing was off. I forgot steps. I even stepped on her toes. Mrs. Jenkins put me out of my misery quickly. “OK, that’s good for now. Maureen, I know you’re a better dancer than that.” She had me sit down and had another boy dance with her. He at least didn’t step on her toes. When they finished, she brought me back on stage. “I know you’re better than you showed me, too. April, why don’t you dance with Ken.” A short, thin, plain looking freshman girl with glasses stepped up to me, shyly smiling. “Hi!” she said. “I’m April Fowler “Ken Larson,” I said with a small smile. Mrs. Jenkins started the music, and I took April in my arms. Together, we flowed! It was magic! We moved as if we were one. We anticipated each other’s moves perfectly. It was like we’d been dance partners forever. “Well, Ken, that was a lot better,” Mrs. Jenkins said with the dance finished, writing on her pad. “April, you were very good, too,” April followed me off stage as I sat down with Dave. “You’re a really good dancer,” I said as she sat beside me on the gym floor. “So are you,” she smiled. That smile was interesting. I shrugged, suddenly a little self-conscious. “I’ve taken some lessons. My mom is the manager of The Springfield Dance Studio.” “I’ve heard of it.” Her smile broadened. “I’ve taken lessons at Miss Bonnie’s Dance Studio in Springfield, about as long as I can remember. Well, I used to take lessons. I decided to take a break from it for a while now that I’m in high school.” Her friend had followed us over and sat on the other side of her. “I’m Roberta,” she said, reaching across April to shake my hand. I politely introduced myself, then began talking to April again. Dave tried to talk to me, too, but I kept returning my attention to this girl who, unexpectedly, seemed interested in me. I was certainly interested in learning more about her. There was … something about her. After about 20 minutes, I’d learned that she was a 14-year-old freshman. She was born in Chicago, but her family moved to Milwaukee before she was a year old. They moved to our little town of New Stockholm, Wisconsin, several years earlier. She’d gone to East Lake Middle School. I’d gone to West Lake Middle School, which explains why I hadn’t met her before. “Are you going to the football game Friday?” Roberta asked April. April looked over her shoulder at her. “I haven’t decided yet,” she told her before turning back to me. Eventually, she and Dave started talking. Finally, Mrs. Jenkins called us back to the stage. “I want Chuck, Bob, and Ken, and Rhonda, Sue and April to stick around. The rest of you are free to go.” We watched as Dave and Roberta walked out of the gym together. She danced flirtatiously around him. “She’s shameless,” April giggled. “Dave’ll eat it up!” After the others left, she had me dance with April again. She paired Chuck with Rhonda and Bob with Sue. “I want to see how you three couples look, dancing together.” I blushed when she referred to April and me as a couple. I noticed a small, shy, self-conscious smile cross her face, too. The spell was broken when Chuck, a junior on the wrestling team, yelled, “Hey, Bob! First time dancing with a pretty girl and now you get to do it again! Same day!” Bob took an angry stop toward Chuck before Mrs. Jenkins cried, “Now, cut that out, boys. Both of you!” We danced to a ballroom-style dance this time. I wouldn‘t admit it at the time if you tortured me, but I was disappointed when the song ended and April took a single step away from me. “I like this,” Mrs. Jenkins said, scribbling on her pad. “OK. Please don’t tell anyone yet, because I'm still finalizing the cast, but you three couples are the background dancers in Act 2. If you want to trade partners, let me know now, but I like you as you are.” April and I looked at each other. “I’m OK,” I said. “I’m happy,” she said with a little smile and a downward glance that I had begun to find intriguing. The other couples agreed. “Good! Then it’s set. And, this doesn’t mean you won't have another small role in other scenes. Congratulations! You’re in! You’ve been cast! Go out and break a leg!” As April and I walked out of the gym, my arm slipped around her shoulder. She glanced at me with a smile as her arm slithered around my waist. “I’m so excited!” she cried. “Roberta said we probably didn’t stand much of a chance since we’re freshmen, but thanks to you, I'm in! We made it!” I smiled. “In the scene, we’re basically scenery, and freshmen don’t very often get more than bit parts. But why do you say thanks to me?” “Well, if we hadn’t danced so good together, I might not have gotten in!” “Oh, nuts! You’re such a good dancer, you’d’ve gotten in regardless of who you danced with!” “So are you, Ken! But I gotta ask. You danced so good with me, but I was a little worried with Mrs. Jenkins asked me to dance with you.” I blushed. “When I danced with Maureen.” “What happened with that?” I scuffled my feet a little bit. “I used to like Maureen. A lot. I thought I’d be a really good boyfriend for her. She ... didn’t. And she still makes that clear any time she has to be near me.” “Ouch.” “Yeah. When Mrs. Jenkins told her she’s a better dancer than that, I think she was scolding her. And you’ll notice she isn’t one of the dancers.” “Well, I think you’re a good dancer.” As we stepped outside, I said, “Are you going to the football game Friday night? It’s against Gates High.” She smiled. “I might. If Mom and Dad let me.” “Do you need a ride somewhere?” She quickly looked around. “I’m riding home with Roberta,” she said, almost sounding disappointed. Trying not to sound disappointed, I said, “OK. Well, there’s Dad. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I glanced back in time to see her look my way before getting into a car. I shyly waved before ducking into the truck. I said hi to her when I saw her in the hall Thursday. On Friday morning, Mrs. Jenkins posted the cast for the play beside her classroom door. In addition to being a dancer, I had a very small roll with just a couple lines in Act 1. Dave didn’t get cast. But I’d work with him behind the scenes. April slipped in beside me and gasped, “Oh, I can’t believe it! I have a role. Third act during the courtroom scene.” I looked down the list, saw her name, and smiled broadly. “Excellent!” “It’s a small role, but I’m in!” she cried happily. The bell rang. “Can I walk you to your first class?” I asked hopefully. “Sure! I have algebra, Mr. Pinkowski’s class.” I was nervous as I walked beside her. I knew what I wanted to do, but I wasn’t sure if I had the nerve. Staring straight ahead, I let my fingers nervously brush her hand. She didn’t snatch her hand away, so I brushed her hand again. When she didn’t flinch, I went for it. I slipped her hand into mine and quickly laced our fingers together. I glanced at her. She smiled at me. I beamed at her. Practice began the following week. After school Monday, the entire cast met in the cafeteria for a read through. The crew had already begun constructing the sets, so we couldn’t use the stage. April and I sat together. It had begun to feel natural to slip my arm around her any time we were together. Her arm around my waist felt great. The sets were up by Tuesday, although they still needed painting. Mrs. Jenkins blocked the scenes the rest of the week. That meant I got to dance with April on Wednesday! Even when she stopped the action to set the other actors, it just felt right to stay in our dance position, with April in my arms. Nobody, least of all April, objected. We began to spend more time together over the next couple weeks. We’d speak to each other in the hall. We held hands whenever I walked her to class. Dave and I played euchre with our friends Rick and Paul in the cafeteria before school and during the 10-minute break period between second and third periods, and April and Roberta began sitting with us during our games. Dave and Roberta were spending a lot of time together, too. April hadn’t made it to the football game I’d asked her about, but we met up at the last game of the season, the first game she attended. I did my chores without any complaints. My little brother didn’t get on my nerves as much. I even brought my dirty clothes to the laundry and made my bed without being told. One night, just before bedtime, Mom came into my room. I lay on my bed, reading a book. “You’ve been in a good mood lately,” she said. “Really?” I said, putting the book aside. “I hadn‘t noticed.” “I must say, the rest of the family is enjoying it,” “Mom, I’m not that bad!” “No, not really, but something is different. What’s going on?” I blushed a little. “I don’t know, Mom.” “It’s that girl in the play, isn’t it?” My face got redder as I rolled over. “There’s just something about April,” I sighed. “I don’t know. She just ...” The red in my face brightened considerably. “Yeah. I really like her. She’s just ... Oh, I don’t know. It’s hard for me to say. Know what I mean?” Mom stood up. “I think so, Dear. Mommy’s little boy is growing up.” “MOM!” She turned around as she got to the door to my bedroom. “If you ever feel like talking, you can come to me if you want. But, I know,” she sighed. “You’re just like your sister. She’d talk to anybody but Mom and Dad about boys when she was in high school. And now that she’s in college, she still won’t talk about the boys. Except now, they not boys, they’re guys. Or men!” My bus was a few minutes early on Monday. I hurried from my locker into the cafeteria where Paul was waiting in his usual seat. I plopped into my seat and dug out the cards. “How’re you doing?” I asked as I started shuffling the cards. “Pretty good.” He stared at me for a few seconds as I shuffled the cards. “I bought a new deck over the weekend,” I said. “Our old cards were getting sticky.” “You and April seem to be gettin’ on pretty good.” I blushed slightly. “She’s cool.” “I knew her a little bit at East Lake Middle School. She seemed nice,” I grinned. “She’s very nice.” “My little brother is friends with her little brother. Jerry says Kevin’s parents are awful strict. He doesn’t get to do a lot of stuff he’d like to. Like, Jerry can spend the night at their house, but Kevin’s never spent the night at ours.” “OK?” “Just thought you ought to know.” “Thanks. I guess.” Dave and Roberta held hands as they came in and sat across from me, and April followed a few seconds later. I slid my arm around her as she sat next to me. “What’re you talking about?” Rick asked as he slid into his chair. “Little brothers,” Paul said. “Jerry can be such a pain in the ...” He interrupted himself when he saw the math teacher Mr. Pinkowski approach. “Neck?” he asked. “You were going to say neck, right, Paul?” “Oh, uh, yes, of course, Mr. Pinkowski. Jerry’s a pain in the neck.” We all laughed as he walked off. April said, “I have a little brother. He can be so annoying.” “So is mine,” Paul said. “Little sisters can be annoying, too,” Rick chimed in, “and I’ve got three of ‘em.” “One of each,” Dave said. “And both annoying,” “Yup,” I added. “Annoying. But, in defense of little brothers everywhere, I am a little brother, too. My sister says I was annoying when I was 11, too.” A week before dress rehearsals started, Dave and I walked out of school together. There had been no practice that day, but we had helped put the finishing touches on the sets. The paths we’d use to move the furniture on and off the stage between the acts were set. Lighting and sound were all set up. Technically, the play was ready. “Things going good with you and April?” he asked as the school door closed. I nodded. “You see us together off stage. She sits with us during our euchre games. I see Roberta does, too.” “Yeah,” he said dreamily. “Have you kissed her yet?” “Oh! I ... I couldn’t ... it just ...” I stammered, blushing furiously. “Relax, buddy!” he laughed. Then, looking self-conscious, he added, “I haven’t kissed Roberta yet, either. But I’m gonna ask her to be my girlfriend pretty soon.” “Really? When?” “I’da know. Soon. You know, when the time is right.” His face shone bright red. I scuffed my feet. “I’ve been thinking about asking April to be mine, too. But ... What if she says no,” I whined. “I mean, if I don’t ask her, she can’t say no, right? I’d be totally embarrassed if she said no!” “She can’t say yes if you don’t ask, either.” I stared at him for a few seconds. “I hate it when you make sense.” Charles Kring, the playwright, had checked in on us several times during rehearsals. I think Mrs. Jenkins liked the attention he gave us, and took some of his suggestions, just not all of them. She arranged for him to watch our last run-through before dress rehearsals began. That final run-through was the day after Dave and I had talked about the girls. I hadn’t decided to ask April yet, but I was pretty sure. During the run-through I saw Mr. Kring whisper a few things to Mrs. Jenkins, but for once, he said nothing to the cast. Act 2 came. I whirled April around the stage. “The play’s set in 1931, isn’t it?” she asked. I nodded. Terry Kath’s vocal soared in Chicago’s “Colour My World” as it blared in the gym’s sound system. “This song hadn’t been written in 1931,” “I never thought about it, but you’re right. I think it was James Pankow who wrote is just a couple years ago.” “I suppose Mrs. Jenkins just wants us to be able to dance to something we know,” she said. She looked so happy to be dancing with me. I knew I was happy dancing with her. I grinned, pleased she was my partner. She looked deep into my eyes. Her eyes were deep blue pools I could drown in. The music filled my ears. Everything else just faded away. The moment was magic! The flute solo at the end of the song trilled. Her head tilted slightly. Her plump lips pursed slightly. I dropped her arm and pulled her to me. Her arms circled my neck. Without thinking, I pressed my lips to hers. We kissed. “Wait! Stop!” Mr. Kring cried. “Stop the action! Hold on just a moment.” He bolted from his chair and approached the stage. “You two! There in the back! Margaret! What are their names?” “Ken and April, come here please,” Mrs. Jenkins said, a step behind Mr. Kring. My face burned brighter than a firetruck. April’s blushing face easily equaled mine. “Y- ... Yes, Mrs. Jenkins?” I could feel the eyes of the rest of the cast and the crew bore in on us, April looked every bit as fearful as I felt. “I saw you two upstage,” Mr. Kring said, smiling. “Margaret! You didn’t tell me they were going to kiss!” “They hadn’t kissed before,” she answered with a shrug. “On stage, anyway.” She glanced at us. I didn’t realize it was possible for my face to turn brighter red. “I like it!” Mr. Kring said. “I like it a lot! Just one thing, Kim and Abel...” “Ken and April,” Mrs. Jenkins corrected. “What? Oh, right, Ken. April. I’m thinking. In the play, you’re a young married couple. Newlyweds! You’re deeply in love. Kiss here, downstage. Near the front of the stage. Let the audience see you really care for each other. That you are in love.” I grinned crookedly. Still embarrassed, but feeling emboldened by his praise, I slid my arm around April and said, “I think we can do that.” Once the rehearsal was over, Mr. Kring call the entire cast together, lavishing us with praise, telling us how good we were, and what a confidence boost it was for him as a playwright that we did such a great job with his words. He singled out several actors for praise, including April and me, before dismissing us. April and I held hands as we left the gym. “Dress rehearsals are next week and opening night is a week from today!” she gushed. “And Mr. Kring! He liked us, Ken! He really liked us! You and me!” I pushed the door open for her and she danced ahead of me. “Oh, there’s Mom!” she cried. She spun around and pushed me against the school doors, her arms around my neck. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Ken!” She kissed me full on the lips before running across the frozen grass. She looked back as she climbed into the car and waved as I walked to my grandparents’ house, where Dad would pick me up after his lodge meeting. That on-stage kiss sealed it for me. I was going to ask her to be my girlfriend the next day. My class ring hadn’t come in yet, but I wanted to give her one until I got it. I spent an hour that night looking through old jewelry boxes for just the right ring to give her. She didn’t join us in the cafeteria for our euchre game the next day, and she didn’t during break period either. I didn’t see her until after my fifth period geometry class. Her English class was in an adjacent classroom. I slipped my arm around her shoulder, just like normal. “Hi, April,” I said nervously. She didn’t put her arm around me, but I barely noticed. “I’ve been doing ... um, a lot of thinking.” “Mm,” She mumbled noncommittally. She kept her head down and dragged behind. “I want ...” I stammered. Boy was I nervous! “I’ve been thinking. A lot. I really like you, April, and well, ... uh, I-I ... What I’m trying to say, that is ...” I reached into my pocket and pulled out the small, fake-gold ring, which I tried to hand to her. Deciding to just go for it, I started talking very quickly. “I’d like you to be my girlfriend. I get my class ring in January. Will this do until I get it.” She looked at me. There was a tear in her eye. “I can’t. I’m sorry, Ken. I can’t.” I looked into her tear-filled eyes. “You can’t? I don’t understand!” “Mom and Dad told me last night.” Anger filled her voice. “I told her about our kiss last night, and they freaked. I can’t be your girlfriend. I can’t hang out with you. They’re making me stay away from you. I’m not old enough to have a boyfriend.” She broke away from me and went into her last-hour study hall. I went into my last period French class. I sat at my desk, but I didn’t pay any attention to the class. A tear trickled down my cheek before I could stop it. When I got home, I hid out in my bedroom. I wasn’t going to cry, but a few tears escaped before I could stop them. The rejection hadn’t embarrassed me like I thought it would. Instead, it felt like a gut punch. I went to bed early that night. I shed a couple more tears before drifting off. I had a fitful night’s sleep. I spent a morose weekend. My little brother tried to cheer me up, but he only got on my nerves. Mom tried to talk to me, but I wasn’t interested. “A girl?” she asked. “Mm-hmm.” “The one in the play?” “Yeah. She ...” I couldn’t say any more. “You really like her, don’t you?” “She’s really cool.” “More than Maureen?” “MOM!” I cried. She smiled. “I’ll leave you alone, Sweetie. If you decide you want to talk, I’ll be her for you.” The long weekend gave way to a miserable Monday. “Hey, Ken!” Dave cried as he sat across from me in the cafeteria, ready for the euchre game. “Roberta said she’d be my girlfriend! Great, ain’t it!” “Yeah,” I grumbled. “Fantastic. I’m happy for you.” I stared at the table, willing away the tears that welled up in my eyes. His eyes bugged out of his head. “You look awful! What’s wrong?” I sighed. “April dumped me. Said her mom and dad told her to stay away from me.” “Oh, Ken! I’m sorry.” “Yeah. She told me Friday between fifth and sixth period when I asked her to be my girlfriend.” “Oh, man, that’s tough.” I handed Dave the cards as Rick walked in. “I don’t feel like playing euchre. I’m gonna go hide in my locker. Mr. Myers, the health teacher, sprung a pop quiz on us. Ten questions, none of the answers was April, but I didn’t know much else. I saw April talking to Mrs. Jenkins later that day and heard her say she’d talk to someone, but I didn’t pay attention. Dress rehearsal finally arrived. Mrs. Jenkins waited until April and I were both finished with costume and makeup, then she called us into the teacher’s lounge. “Have a seat,” she said pleasantly. We sat in separate chairs, but not too far apart. “I spoke to your mother this evening, April. It’s the first chance I’ve had since you asked me. She agreed to a three-way call with Mr. Kring and me. He really likes the idea of you two as a newlywed couple. You’re both much better dancers than the others.” She turned to me. “April told me what her mom said. I could see your budding relationship. I can’t and won’t do anything about what she said in respect to that. “But Charles and I can do something about the play. He didn’t know anything about what was going on backstage between you two. But I’ll tell you this: He’s started making notes to write a play about those two unnamed characters. “Any way,” she turned back to April. “We asked her to let you play it as you did Friday for Mr. Kring. If you’re willing. “But, Mrs. Jenkins,” she protested, “I asked you to switch partners for me.” “I know. But the play is what’s important to me. Don't get me wrong. Each actor and crewmember is important, but I must do what is best for the play. What each actor does affects the play, which affects the other actors and the crew. Reblocking the dance scene during dress rehearsals is not in the play’s best interests. Ken, do you still want to dance with April?” I glanced at April. She wore glasses, but so did I. She had minor acne, but so did I. She was short and thin, but I was fairly tall and gangly. She wasn’t one of “The Cool Kids” like Maureen, but neither was I. I liked her. A lot. “Yes,” I said definitely, without hesitation. “Yes, I would.” I stared into April’s eyes. “Very much.” I didn’t even blush. “I thought so. April, do you want to dance with Ken?” She gave me that shy, little smile with her eyes downcast, the one I found so captivating. “Yes,” she said slowly. Her speech slowly accelerated. “I mean, if it’s OK. I like Ken, but I just don’t want to get into trouble.” “I don’t want you to, either, April. The play’s important, but dancing with me isn’t worth you getting in trouble.” “I told April’s mom that you’re a good kid, Ken. She agreed to let the dance go through as you did it for Charles last week, but there are some conditions. You can only be together on stage. Backstage, you can’t hang out together. And you certainly can’t sneak off together.” “That’s OK,” I said. April said, “I’ll talk to Mom and Dad tonight. But, yeah! That’s good!” Her smile was absolutely gorgeous. “For tonight, April, you sit with me during the first act, and Ken will sit with me during the third act. During the second act, stay backstage, but away from each other until it’s time for the dance. Afterwards, while April changes costumes and her makeup is redone, you join me out front.” “Uh, Mrs. Jenkins,” April said as we stood up. “If it’s OK with you, I won’t kiss Ken until I talk to my parents.” “Good idea,” I said as Mrs. Jenkins nodded approval. “I don’t want you to get in trouble.” During our dance, we twirled our way around the stage. Her deep blue eyes bored into mine. I got lost in her gaze. Once again, everything faded away except for April, the music, and me. When she pursed her plump, red lips during the flute trill at the end of “Colour My World,” where we had kissed earlier, it took all of my self-control to not kiss her again. We had two more dress rehearsals before opening night on Thursday. On Tuesday, as we held hands, waiting to go on, she whispered, “I spoke to my folks last night.” “Go!” the stage manager urged at our cue to go onstage. Holding hands as we went on, I took her in my arms. “They said I could kiss you, but only onstage!” I almost kissed her right then, but I waited until the proper time. “I liked that.” she whispered. “It was nice.” All too soon, the dance ended. While the lead actors completed the scene, I led April to the side of the stage and pantomimed pouring her a glass of punch – the punch would be real during the live performance. She looped her hand through the crook of my elbow as we walked off stage. Backstage, she smiled at me as she dropped her hand from my arm. I smiled back and turn to leave. She was still looking at me when I turned back. I gave her a smile and a shy little wave as I left the backstage area. After the last dress rehearsal, Mrs. Jenkins gathered us on stage for last minute instructions, and to rehearse the curtain call. I stood as close to April as I dared. With great difficulty I beat back the urge to touch her. I cannot deny my happiness when she had April stand next to me for the bow. We had to hold hands. She held the six of us dancers back when she dismissed the rest of the cast. “The reason I put each couple together for the curtain call is because you are, for all intents and purposes, a single entity in the play. April, if your parents say anything, please have them speak to me.” “I will,” she said, a pleased expression on her face. I got some of my stuff from my locker before leaving. April and I got to the front door at about the same time. My heart ached to talk to her, to take her in my arms and whirl her around. She stood at the front door wearing that smile that had hooked me. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Ken,” she said quietly. Hurrying away, she didn’t look back as she got in her Mom’s car. Craig, one of the lighting guys, approached me. “Hey, Ken. How long have you and that girl been dancing together?” I shrugged. “Just since the play started.” “That’s what somebody told me, but I didn’t believe it. Man, you guys are good together.” “Thanks.” “I still don’t believe it,” he said shaking her head. “Need a ride?” “Nah. Dad’s over there.” Thursday. Opening night. Boy, was I nervous. I’m pretty sure I was in my last hour French class, but I’m not really sure. The entire day was nothing short of a nervous blur. “Your dad and I are going to the Saturday show,” Mom told me as I wolfed down my supper. "Your sister’s coming home from college to see it,” “Gee! Like that’ll calm me down!” “You’re gonna be fine. Your sister was a bundle of nerves on Opening Night every time, and she did fine. Oh, your grandparents are looking forward to the play, too.” I went to my bedroom to get ready. I’d change into my costumes in the boys’ locker room at school. But I mind raced. I was going to be in New Meadows High School’s Fall Production of Charles Kring’s “The Downfall of Van Dyke Thomas.” In the play I was going to dance with a girl. A girl I really liked. I was going to KISS this girl. In front of my parents. And my little brother. And my sister. Oh, it kept just getting better and better. I’d kiss her in front of all four grandparents. And a couple aunts and uncles. And lots of cousins. And classmates. And, ... Oh! Holy! Cow! In front of HER parents. Who already don’t like me! I began wondering how hard it was to get malaria. I was quiet as I got into Mom’s car to go to the school. “Nervous?” “Just a little.” “Once it starts, you’ll be fine.” Mom was right, of course. Once I got backstage horsing around with everybody else, I was fine. I so wanted to wish April luck, to break a leg, but I’d promised I’d stay away from her. It wasn’t easy, but I stayed away. I peeked through the curtain before the show started and the Thursday night audience was sparce. The play itself went as expected. I hit my cue in the first act perfectly. By the second act, I was on an adrenaline high. When we danced, just like it had happened during dress rehearsal, everything but April, the music and me faded away. I knew nothing but the pretty girl in my arms. The kiss was magical, and elicited a few catcalls from a couple of the guys. After our scene was over, I was still excited. Backstage, I took her back in my arms and, humming softly, twirled her around for a few steps, triggering her to giggle. I dropped my arms, remembering my promise. She smiled as I walked away. That smile! I liked that smile! I didn’t see April again until the play was over when we came back onstage for the curtain call. As the curtain dropped, so did my spirits. A horrible thought struck me. The first show was over. It was a success! We had two more shows, and my mood sank like a rock. I needed to be alone. Only two more times to hold that girl in my arms. Only two more times to pour her punch. Only two more times to dance with her. Only two more times to look into those bottomless blue eyes. Only two more times to see those plump red lips purse. Only two more times to kiss them. I'd kissed her only a couple times, maybe five times altogether. But she was the first girl I kissed, and that was important. I LIKED kissing her. Not to mention, she liked kissing me! I really, really liked her! I walked down the deserted hall, sitting against the wall. It was near the spot where I asked her to be my girlfriend. Boy, was I going to miss just being around her. I realized that Roberta was now Dave’s girlfriend. My best friend was April’s best friend’s boyfriend. Voices from backstage floated down the hall to me. Familiar voices. One very familiar. “Where’s Ken?” it asked frantically. Seeing April hang out with her best friend while I hung out with mine would be AWKWARD! “Where’s Ken?” the voice cried. “I need to talk to Ken!” I suddenly realized the voice belonged to ... “April?” I called. “Ken! Where are you?” I started walking back to the backstage area. “I’m down the hall.” She appeared in the entrance of the hall. “Oh, Ken! There you are!” Still wearing her final-scene costume from the play, she ran toward me. She leapt into my arms, nearly knocking us down. “Oh, Ken, do you still want me to be your girlfriend?” “What? Yes! But you mom ... Yes! Definitely!” The most joyful smile ever spread across her face. “Good!” She kissed me on the lips. “Because I still want to be your girlfriend! You gotta meet my parents! C’mon!” She grabbed my hand and practically dragged me toward the gym. “Ken, I’m so happy! Can you believe we’re going to be boyfriend and girlfriend? It’s so great!” I stopped her at the gym door. “But April! Your parents? How?” “I don’t know and I don’t care,” she gushed, dragging me into the gym. “All I know is that I’m get to be your girlfriend!” I was so nervous as she led me to a middle-aged couple. “Mom! Dad! This is Ken Larsen! He’s the guy I’ve been talking about.” “Endlessly,” a younger boy sneered. She glared at him for a moment. “He still wants to be my boyfriend!” she gushed as she clung to my arm. “Oh, boyfriend!” the younger boy said. “Kissy! Kissy!” “Kevin!” April cried, hiding behind me. “That's my little brother.” “I have one, too,” I said. “I understand.” “Sit down, Kevin!” her mom ordered. My stomach churned as her dad offered his hand. “I’m Dale Fowler. April’s dad. This is her mom, Marge. “I’m glad to meet you, Sir,” I said nervously, shaking their hands. “How old are you?” Mrs. Fowler asked. “I’m 15. I’ll be 16 in March.” “Good heavens!” she cried. “When April said you were an upperclassman, I thought she meant a senior!” “I’m just a sophomore.” “I want you to understand,” her dad added, “that there is no way I’d let my 14-year-old daughter date an 18-year-old. She won’t be 15 until next month.” “But we saw how you looked at April when you were dancing.” “More importantly,” her dad added, “we saw how she looked at you.” “Mrs. Jenkins had good things to say about you, too.” April looked at me with the most beautiful smile yet. “So, Ken? Am I your girlfriend?” I grinned broadly. My nervousness seemed to dissipate as her parents faded away from us. “Do you still want to be my girlfriend?” “Oh, Ken, you know I do!” I thought my heart would burst as I pulled her into a warm hug. I wanted, but didn’t try, to kiss her in front of her parents. “You know, Ken,” she said, pulling slightly away from me. “We’re gonna have to thank Mrs. Jenkins.” “For what?” “For not changing partners when I asked her to!” I smiled and hugged her again. “I’ll bring your ring tomorrow. It will have to do until my class ring comes in.” I hugged her tightly. “I love you, April,” I whispered. She buried her face in my shoulder. “I love you, too, Ken!” |