It Started Backstage (Her POV)

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 (His POV)"  too and let me know which one you like better.

I hope you like this story.

Thank you.

Smiles, Dad

It Started Backstage (Her POV)

The tryouts for the New Meadows High School Drama Club’s Fall Play came a couple weeks after the beginning of the 1975 school year, my freshman year. Mrs. Jenkins, the Drama Coach, called us together in the gym. “We had a very nice donation of costumes over the summer by a local playwright,” she said. “The condition is, we have to produce one of his plays. I selected ‘The Downfall of Van Dyke Thomas’ by Charles Kring for the 1975 New Meadows High School Fall Play.”

My best friend Roberta poked me in the ribs. “There’s some good looking boys here,” she whispered.

“Sh-h-h-h,” I hissed quietly. “I’m listening to Mrs. Jenkins.”

“Ladies, please,” Mrs. Jenkins scolded us mildly.

She held up a copy of the play. “Mr. Kring generously gave us 75 copies of the play, even after I told him the Drama Club has 52 members. Please take one if you are interested. But please don’t lose it. Don’t write in it. Tryouts will be next Tuesday and Wednesday.”

Roberta and I started forward. “Are you going to try out, April?”

“Sure,” I nodded. “Looks like fun. My cousin liked drama club, so I thought I’d try it. You?”

“Mm-hmm. Might meet a boy!”

“Oh, you and boys!”

“Like you don’t want to meet one!”

Well …” I blushed



That night I lay on the floor in the living room. My little brother Kevin scooted up beside me. “Whatcha reading?”

“The fall play. It’s called ‘The Downfall of Van Dyke Thomas.’”

“Van Dyke Thomas?” he asked incredulously. “Don’tcha mean Thomas Van Dyke?”

I shook my head. “Nope. The playwright named him backwards, I guess.”

“What’s it about?” Mom asked.

“It’s this really rich guy in 1931 in New York. He got through the Stock Market Crash really good – he actually got richer. But the play is about how it all went bad and he went to jail.”

“And you want to try out for it?” Dad asked.

“Mm-hmm. Sounds like fun.”

“Going to be a movie star, eh, Sweetheart?”

“Oh, Dad!”

Mom shrugged. “I see no problem with it. Your cousin Roger liked Drama Club.”

“Even if he wasn’t a very good actor,” Dad snickered. “My daughter, the budding thespian!”

“Elizabeth Taylor had to start somewhere, you know!”



Roberta and I signed up to audition for several small parts, and we were both thrilled when Mrs. Jenkins called us back for a second try-out with Charles Kring, the playwright. “Margaret, Mrs. Jenkins, asked me to watch auditions tonight,” he said. “You might notice that the people who you might think as candidates for the lead roles aren’t here. That’s because this audition isn’t for them.”

Mrs. Jenkins continued, “I know you’ve all read the play. The second act is set in a reception, and you are auditioning as dancers. If you don’t want to dance, let me know now.”

Nobody stepped forward. I wouldn’t dream of leaving. This was actually good for me. I liked dancing. I’d taken dance lessons in nearby Springfield for several years, stopping the previous spring. She partnered a couple of us up, and played a waltz. The guy I danced with didn’t impress me that much. He mumbled thank you when the dance ended, and stumbled away from me.

That’s when I noticed HIM.

He looked fairly tall, quite thin, with stylishly long brown hair. Fear crossed his face when Mrs. Jenkins partnered him with Maureen, a cheerleader. She looked thoroughly disgusted; he looked like he was staring at the face of Death itself. She sneered something at him, and he mumbled something back meekly.

He was terrible. He was stiff and looked unsure of himself. He even stepped on her toes. Mrs. Jenkins called a halt to it in less than a minute. “I know you are both better dancers than that. Ken, you stay there; Maureen, please take a seat.” She looked around. “April, why don’t you dance with Ken?”

I wasn’t expecting much as I joined him at center stage. He was several inches taller than me, so I looked up at him and smiled as we got into position. “Hi! I’m April Fowler.”

“Ken Larsen.” He didn’t seem nearly as nervous now. After watching him dance with Maureen, I figured he didn’t know much about dancing. But he was awfully cute, and I liked his smile when he introduced himself. I thought, since I knew the waltz, maybe he’d like me to teach him a few steps.

Was I ever surprised! Mrs. Jenkins put on the record. Ken gave me a little bow, and gently took me in his arms. It was magnificent! We flowed around the stage! We moved as if we were one being! We floated! I loved dancing with him. It was like we’d been partners forever!

“Well, Ken,” Mrs. Jenkins said, writing on a tablet, when our dance finished. “That was a lot better.”

We walked off stage together, and I followed him away from Roberta. He sat by his friend, so I sat beside him. “You’re a good dancer,” he said shyly, blushing slightly as we sat down.

“You are, too,” I said.

He shrugged self-consciously. “My mom runs The Springfield Dance Studio. She taught me some.”

“I’ve heard of it. I used to take lessons at Ms. Bonnie’s Dance Studio. I quit last spring, now that I'm in high school. At least for now.”

“Mom and Ms. Bonnie are friends.”

Roberta sat next to me, away from Ken. “You two looked really good out there,” she said.

I introduced them, and he introduced me to his friend, Dave. She tried to talk to me, but I was much more interested in talking to Ken. And he seemed interested in talking to me, too. Eventually, Roberta and Dave started talking to each other.

After a few minutes, Mrs. Jenkins said, “OK, I need Ken, Bob, and Chuck, and Sue, April, and Rhonda to stick around. The rest of you are free to go.”

I watched Roberta leave, talking to Dave, dancing flirtatiously around him. “She’s shameless,” I murmured to Ken.

“Dave’ll eat it up,” he said.

I was tickled when Mrs. Jenkins paired me with Ken again. She had Sue dance with Bob, and Rhonda with Chuck. “I want to see how you three couples look together on stage. Remember. The lead actors will be on stage with you while you are dancing and they are what’s important. No slight intended, you are background, like the furniture.”

A shy, self-conscious smile crossed my face. In some way I didn’t understand, I had rather enjoyed her calling Ken and me a couple. He blushed slightly, too. The spell was broken when Chuck, a junior on the wrestling team, called out, “Hey, Bob! First time you get to dance with a pretty girl, and now you get to do it again!”

Bob huffed and took a step toward him before Mrs. Jenkins said, “Now, cut that out, boys! Both of you!”

We danced a ballroom-style dance this time. We moved effortlessly. He led me across the stage, and the others seemed to follow us. I didn’t really pay much attention to them. I stared into his face. His auburn eyes twinkled as he gazed into mine. A small smile curled his lips.

I wouldn’t have admitted it at the time, but when the dance ended and I took just a small step away from him, it pleased me a little to see a quick look of disappointment cross his face. But, I was disappointed the dance ended, too.

“I don’t want you to tell anyone yet,” Mrs. Jenkins said, “but as of now, you three couples will be the background dancers in Act Two. If you want to change partners, just let me know. But I like the way you look now, with your present partners.”

I wanted to jump into Ken’s arms, pump my fists in the air, and shout “Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!” But I didn’t.

I glanced are Ken. He shrugged. “I’m OK,” we said together. Bob and Sue, and Chuck and Rhonda quickly agreed.

“Good! This doesn’t mean you’re not still under consideration for a different small role in another scene. But, congratulations! You’re in! You’ve been cast! Go out and break a leg!”

“I’m so excited!” I cried as Ken and I left the gym. “Roberta said we probably didn’t stand a chance since we’re freshman. But, I’m in!” I glance at him. I really wanted to touch him, maybe give him a quick hug. I didn’t have the guts. “We’re in!”

Maybe he sensed what I wanted; I don’t know. But he grinned broadly and put his arm around my shoulder, pulling me to him. “Yes, we are!”

My arm went around his waist like it had a mind of its own. We stopped walking and just looked at each other. “I really would like to get to know you, April,” he was nervously.

“I’d like that.”

He smiled. “One thing I already know about you, April. You’re a really good dancer.”

It was my turn to blush. “So are you, Ken. But I gotta ask. You danced so good with me, but I was a little worried when Mrs. Jenkins asked me to dance with you.”

He blushed again. “Me dancing with Maureen.”

“What happened?”

He scuffled his 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 anytime 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.”

“You are, too.” He squeezed me a little, and we pushed through school’s front door. “Do you need a ride home?” he asked, dropping his arm from my shoulder.

I looked around and, seeing Roberta waving, said, “Thank you, but I’m riding with Roberta.”

“Are you going to the football game Friday night? It’s gonna be here against Gates High.”

“I might,” I smiled.

“See you tomorrow?”

I beamed at him. “Looking forward to it!”

I looked back as I got to their car. He stood by a truck watching me. I gave him a little wave. He waved back as he got into the truck.

“Boy!” Roberta said as I closed the door on her mom’s Buick. “You and that guy got along pretty good.”

“Yeah,” I said, trying not to give away too much of my excitement. “Ken seems real nice. You and his friend were talking, too, I noticed.”

“Oh, yeah. Dave’s nice. He seems a little bit shy …”

“Ken’s kinda shy, too.”

“… but he seems real nice, too.”

“Are you ready for the algebra test on Friday?” I really didn’t want to talk to her about Ken in front of Roberta's mom. She didn’t like talking about boys in front of her mom, either.

They watched me walk up to the house, but I didn’t immediately go in. Once they were out of sight, I pirouetted, danced a jig and let our a silent squeal of delight. Composing myself, I went into the house.

“Hi, Sweetheart,” Dad said from his recliner.

“How did auditions go?” Mom asked.

I tried to quell my building excitement. Suddenly, it all exploded out of me. “I’m in the play!” I squealed at the top of my lungs.

“Well, that’s wonderful, dear,” Dad beamed.

“Far out!” my little brother Kevin said.

“I’m just a dancer in Act Two. So far. Mrs. Jenkins said there’s a chance we might get small roles in other scenes.”

“We?” Mom asked warily.

“Yeah! Me, my partner and the other two couples.”

“Wow! My sister, the movie star.”

I laughed out loud. “I’m a long way from that!”

“So who’s your partner?”

“His name is Ken. He’s an upperclassman …”

“Really? An upperclassman?” Mom glanced at Dad.

“Oh, Mom! You didn’t mind me dancing with older boys in dance school!”

Dad shook his head. “Well, I guess you have a point there.”

“He’s a real good dancer. His mom runs the Springfield Dance Studio.”

“Oo! April’s dancing with a HIGH SCHOOL boy! Kissy! Kissy! Kissy!”

I blushed deeply. “Kevin!” I cried, trying to swat my little brother.

“Cut it out, Kevin!” Mom said.

“So, what’s this Ken look like?” Dad asked after giving the Kevin the evil eye.

“Well, he’s taller than me, kinda skinny; he has brown hair and auburn eyes. He’s just a boy!”

Kevin started to say something, but Dad cut him off with The Look, and he thought better of it.

“That’s really nice, honey,” Mom said.

“I gotta study for my algebra test,” I said, hurrying from the living room, done with that conversation.

Once back in my bedroom, I dance a little jig of happiness before changing into my pajamas and flopping on to my bed to study.



I said hi to Ken in the hall the next day. The following day, Friday, Mrs. Jenkins posted the cast of the play on her classroom door. I had a small speaking role in the climactic scene. “We’re both in!” I said to him happily.

“Yes, we are!” he took a stutter-step toward me, then backed off and shyly looked at the floor. I wanted him to do something. Maybe touch me, clap me on the back, best of all, maybe hug me. I wanted to hug him. I was extremely happy. But I self-consciously looked at the floor. Finally, very quietly, almost too quiet for me to hear, he said, “So … can I walk you … ya know, to your … uh, first class?” Ken looked terribly nervous.

I wanted to shout “Yes! Yes! I’d love that.” But I didn’t. Instead, I shyly smiled and said, “OK. That’d be nice.”

Once we were walking down the hall, my nerves calmed. His seemed to, too. About halfway there, though, he stopped talking. Then, I felt his hand brush mine. It brushed it again. I looked up at his face. He stared straight ahead. He licked his lips. His fingers then intertwined with mine. He was holding my hand! It felt fantastic. When he looked at me, I smiled, never letting go of his hand until I got to class.



The entire cast met Monday in the cafeteria after school to read through the script. Ken sat beside me, which made me happy. Roberta had a small part, too, and she sat beside us, too. “Is Dave gonna be around?” she asked.

“He wasn’t cast in the play,” said Ken, “but he’s going to work behind the scenes, so you’ll get to see him,” he answered.

Mrs. Jenkins blocked the scenes for the rest of the week. She did Act 2 on Wednesday. Roberta appeared only in Act 3, so she wasn’t there as Ken and I sat on folding chairs on the gym floor. Our dance scene was late in the act, so we just watched, talking quietly while Mrs. Jenkins set the earlier scenes.

Ken slowly stretched out his arm and set it on the back of my chair. Gradually, without saying a word, he worked his hand on to my shoulder. Once it was settled, I heard him exhale and relax. I smiled at him as I scooted closer to him. “I like that.”

“Me, too.”

During our scene, she had us enter the stage from stage left, behind the lead actors, followed by the other couples. She didn’t play music, so we just twirled around. Even when she stopped the action to work with the leads, Ken kept me in his arms. It just felt right, like we should, especially when Bob and Sue and Chuck and Rhonda followed our lead. But I have to admit, it felt great!

Over the next few weeks, we saw each other in the halls. He was always so happy to see me, walking me to my class, either with his arm around me, or holding my hand.

“Dave says that he and Ken and a couple of other guys play euchre in the cafeteria before school and during the break period,” Roberta said one morning on the bus.

“I play euchre,” I said. “Dad and Grandpa and a couple of my uncles play any time the family gets together.”

“I can play, too,” she smiled. “Wanna go watch the guys?”

They were happy to see us. A couple days later, their friend Rick was absent, so I played as Ken’s partner. And we won! He never failed to walk me to my first class when the game was over.

During the rehearsals, we always made time to be together, and he always looped his arm around my shoulder.



Charles Kring, the playwright, had checked in on us occasionally during rehearsals. “Margaret – Mrs. Jenkins – has shown me the sets,” he said before one of the final run-throughs before dress rehearsals. “She’s shown me the arrangements you’ve made to change the scenery between acts. It’s all very impressive. You kids will someday understand what a jewel you have in Mrs. Jenkins. She’s given you good tools in stagecraft, which is important, even if you don’t pursue a career in the arts.”

He had told us that we could whisper to each other while we were dancing, as long as it didn’t detract from the lead actors. He said it made us look like we were talking while we danced, which gave it a more realistic look.

During the run-through, he sat silently beside Mrs. Jenkins on the gym floor, one leg casually thrown over the other. A couple times, he whispered something to her as he watched intently. After Act One, he gave us a few pointers, but didn’t really say much.

Act Two started. Ken and I made our way backstage, our arms comfortably around each other. The music stared, and we danced on stage. He looked so happy to be holding me in his arms.

He snickered softly when the first song ended and a new song began playing. “What’s so funny?” I whispered as Terry Kath’s vocal soared.

“This song.”

“What’s so funny about this song?”

He sighed and whispered, “It’s Chicago’s ‘Colour my World.’ It wasn’t written in 1931. Heck, nobody in the group had been born in 1931. I think it was James Pankow who wrote it just a couple years ago.”

“She probably chose it so we’d have something familiar to dance to.”

“You’re probably right.” He stared into my eyes. I could get lost in his auburn eyes. The moment was magic! The music filled my ears; everything else faded away. We swayed around upstage, behind the main action. The flute solo at the end trilled. He leaned his head toward me and dropped my hand, pulling me closer. My arms circled his neck. I tilted my head slightly. Suddenly, his lips pressed against mine. Instinctively, I kissed his back. Our first kiss. My first kiss! We weren’t acting; we kissed!

“Wait! Stop! Hold it!” Mr. Kring bolted from his chair. “Stop the action! Hold on just a minute! You two! There in the back.” He pointed at us. “Margaret! What are their names?”

Mrs. Jenkins was just a step behind him. “Ken and April, come here. Come to the edge of the stage. Is everything all right, Charles?”

My face burned, shining as bright as a firetruck. Ken’s blushing matched mine. “Y-Yes … Yes, Mrs. Jenkins?” he stammered as we approached the apron. I could feel the eyes of the rest of the cast and crew boring into us. Ken looked every bit as nervous as I felt.

“I saw you two upstage,” Mr. Kring said, smiling. “Margaret, you didn’t tell me they were going to kiss.”

“They haven’t kissed before,” she answered. “On stage, anyway.” She glanced at us. I hadn’t realized it was possible for my face to turn any redder. Ken looked like he wanted the earth to open up and swallow us.

“I like it!” Mr. Kring exclaimed. “It’s great! Just one thing, Kim and Abel …”

“Ken and April,” Mrs. Jenkins corrected.

“What? Oh, right. Ken and April. Just one thing. In the play, you’re a young couple. Newlyweds! You’re in love. Kiss downstage.” He indicated the front of the stage. “You really care for each other. Let the audience see that!”

Still embarrassed, I looked at Ken. He looked at me with that goofy grin on his face as he put his arm around me. “Yeah,” he said. “We can do that.”



Once the rehearsal was finished, Mr. Kring call the entire cast and crew together on center stage. “I want to thank all of you for the masterful work you have done. As a playwright, it fills me with confidence to see my words fleshed out.” He singled out a couple of actors for praise. He stopped for a moment, looking at his notes. When he looked up again, he spotted Ken and me. “And you two, Ken and April! You flesh out two pieces of background. You give them life! I like that! It is wonderful!”

Somehow, during his speech, our hands had found each other. As we thanked him, Ken squeezed my hand. We held hands walking out of school after Mrs. Jenkins dismissed us. “He liked us!” I squealed, dancing beside him. “And just think! Dress rehearsals next week, and opening night is just a week from today!”

“I can’t wait,” Ken said. He seemed to have something on his mind. But he quickly added, “I’m really excited!” As we walked out the school’s front door, he dropped my hand, and pulled me into a hug.

“Do you need a ride?” I asked him, not taking my arms from around him.

“No,” he said with a smile. “I’m walking to my grandparents' house. Dad’ll pick me up after his lodge meeting.

Impulsively, I pushed him against the wall and kissed him on the lips. At that moment, breaking away from him was hard, but I did, and ran across the grass to Mom’s car. Turning, I waved to him just as I got in. He waved back.

All the way home, I talked about school and the rehearsal, and how well both were going. “I got my algebra quiz back today,” I bubbled. “Got an A. Our freshman social studies group project is coming along fine.”

I kept babbling about everything except the most important thing. “You certainly are in a good mood tonight,” Mom finally said as we walked into the house.

“Well, I should be, Mom. It was such a good day! And then, to top it off, Ken kissed me on stage and Mist-- …”

“What did you say?” Mom’s face darkened, a frown on her face.

“I said that Ken and I kissed on stage …”

“Oh, no, you don’t.”

Dad stormed into the kitchen. “What did you say, young lady?”

“What? Ken and I were dancing on stage – it was our scene together. It was so nice, and it just felt natural. Ken and I kissed, and Mist-- …”

“And you told us he’s an upperclassman!” Dad thundered.

“THAT is unacceptable!” Mom declared. “You’re only 14.”

“I’ll be 15 in a couple months!”

“Doesn’t matter! No upperclassman is going to prey on my 14-year-old daughter! You’re too young.”

“But that’s not fair! I really like …”

“I don’t care! You stay away from this … this Ken!”

“But Mom!”

“No! As a matter of fact, I don’t even want you dancing with him!”

“But Mom …”

“Don’t you backtalk me. He’s an upperclassman. You’re only 14! You tell this Mrs. Jenkins you have to change partners.”

“Mom!”

“No! I don’t have to let you be in this play, you know!”

“You just don’t under— …”

“Don’t you talk back to me, young lady! Tomorrow, you tell Mrs. Jenkins you have to have a different dance partner.”

“But, Mom!”

“I’ll yank you right out of that play, Miss Priss! You get a different dance partner, and stay away from this Ken!”

“But Mom! He’s only …”

“Not another word!”

“Mo-om!”

Her eyes flashed angrily at me. “No more talk!”

I ran down the hall and into my room, the door slamming shut behind me. I flung myself on my bed, and cried myself to sleep.



On the bus to school the next morning, I told Roberta what Mom and Dad told me. “Oh, man,” she shook her head. “That’s rough.”

“It’s not fair!” I growled. “They didn’t listen to me. They didn’t give a me a chance to explain anything. They only heard me say he’s an upperclassman, and that we kissed, and they went completely nuts!”

“Ken’s just a sophomore!”

“I know, but they don’t care. They just want to be mean!”

I knew I had to talk to Mrs. Jenkins, but I put it off until just before lunch. I stuck my head into her empty classroom. “Mrs. Jenkins? Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Yes, April. What can I do for you?”

I felt tears welling up, and I was determined not to cry again. “I want … No, I need to change dance partners. In the play.”

She looked surprised. “Really? You and Ken seem to be getting along so well. Are you sure?”

I sighed. “I have to. Mom and Dad threw a fit last night when I told them about the kiss. It’s either I change partners, or I have to drop out of the play.” A tear trickled down my cheek, and I angrily brushed it off. “Ken and I were getting along. I really like him, Mrs. Jenkins. It’s not fair!”

“I’d like to talk to your Mom or Dad, if you don’t mind, April, but of course I’ll change partners.”



I avoided Ken at school that day, as much as I could. But I didn’t want to. My fifth period English class is right next to his fifth period geometry classroom.

“Hi, April!” he said, slinging his arm around me. It felt so good, but I knew I didn’t dare put mine around him, regardless of what I wanted.

We began walking to his final period study hall. “Hi, Ken,” I said quietly, keeping my head down.

He seemed nervous, and didn’t seem to notice that my arm wasn’t around him. “I’ve been … um, doing a lot of thinking, April. I really … uh … I really like you, April. And well, uh I-I …” he stammered. “What I’m trying to say, that is … um …” He reached into his pocket and offered me a little gold-colored ring. “I’d like you to be my girlfriend.” He was talking quickly, nervously, now. “I get my class ring in January. Will this do until I get it?”

I stopped in the middle off the hall. He looked so cute, handsome standing there, with a smile on his face. He looked so hopeful. A lump formed in my throat, a tear in my eye. “I can’t, Ken. I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

“You … can’t?” He looked confused.

“Mom and Dad told me last night. I can’t be your girlfriend. I can’t hang out with you. They’re making me stay away from you. I’m really sorry, Ken.” Tears trickled from my eyes. “They said I’m not old enough to have a boyfriend yet.”

I couldn’t stand it anymore. I walked away from him.



Roberta was excited when she got on the bus and sat next to me. “Look what I have!” She showed me her left hand. A pretty ring adorned her fourth finger. “It’s Dave’s! He gave it to me today! I have a boyfriend!!”

A wail erupted from my throat as tears streamed down my face. “Ken asked me today, too!” I blubbered. I cried the rest of the way home.



But boy was I ready when Mom got home from work! “Hi, Mom,” I said moodily.

“How are you, dear?”

“Oh, I’m fine, Mom,” I said. “Your little girl is just fine.” My eyes flashed angrily. “I hope you’re happy!”

Mom looked at me, a frown on her face. “Is everything all right?”

“Oh, yes, Mom. Everything is just peachy. Ken asked me to be his girlfriend today. But you and Dad protected me. I told him no, just like you told me to. And I told him exactly why I couldn’t be his girlfriend. I told him my Mommy and Daddy said I was still a little girl, and I was too young to have a boyfriend.”

I was on fire. I could see Kevin cowering in the corner. Mom started to say something, but I held up my hands and backed off. “Not now, Mom. Not now.” A tear trickled down my cheek, and I angrily wiped it away. “You don’t have to worry, Mom. Ken probably doesn’t ever want to talk to me again.

“Oh, by the way. Dave asked Roberta to be his girlfriend today. She said yes, because she’s NOT too young to have a boyfriend.” I stared at Mom for a couple seconds. “Roberta is four months younger than I am, Mom. FOUR MONTHS!”

I turned and stomped down the hall. “Oh, honey …” I heard Mom call after me, but I ignored her. “Honey!” I slammed the door behind me.



The Fowler residence endured a long, tense weekend. I stayed in my bedroom most of the time. I didn’t feel like doing anything. Mom and Dad, and to a lesser extent, Kevin tried to cheer me up, but I just wanted to be left alone. At church Sunday morning, I prayed for comfort.

The lousy weekend gave way to a miserable Monday. I dreaded dress rehearsal that evening. I’d get to dance, which was great, but it would be with Bob or Chuck, which stunk. I would have to kiss one of them, which I didn’t want to. And if I didn’t kiss one of them, Ken would kiss either Sue or Rhonda. I didn’t even want to think about that.

Mr. Gronkowski, my freshman social studies teacher, sprang a pop quiz on us. None of the answers was Ken, but I didn’t know much else.



Monday’s dress rehearsal finally arrived. Mrs. Jenkins told the cast to get into costume and makeup and meet up on the gym floor. Once Ken and I arrived, she asked us to follow her.

“It’s nice in here,” Ken said as we entered the teacher’s lounge.

“It’ll do,” she said pleasantly. “Have a seat. I finally spoke to your Mom this evening, April. She agreed to do a three-way call with Mr. Kring and me. Mr. Kring really likes the idea of you two as a newlywed couple.”

She looked at Ken. “I’d have to be blind not to see your budding relationship. I can’t and won’t do anything about what the Fowlers said about that. April told me what her parents told her.”

She looked at both of us. “Charles didn’t know anything about what you were doing backstage. But obviously, he noticed your chemistry. Again, it’s plain as the nose on your face.” She smiled. “You actually inspired him. He’s making notes to write a play based on your characters!”

I smiled and looked at Ken for the first time. “That’s really cool!”

“Any way, we asked your mom to let you play it just the way you did last week, if you are still willing.”

My face dropped. “But, Mrs. Jenkins! I can’t! They’ll make me drop out of the play. I asked you to switch my partner!”

“I know you did. The play is what is important to me. Don’t get me wrong. Each of you, cast and crew, is important to me. But each of you, down to the smallest of bit parts, make up the whole of the picture. And I cannot change a little something here without it affecting something else over there. I want what is best for the show. Reblocking the dance scene in dress rehearsal is not in the best interest of the play.

“So, Ken. Do you still want to dance with April?"

He was looking at me, too, smiling. “Oh, Mrs. Jenkins,” he said decisively. “Oh, yes I do. Very much.”

“I thought so. April, do you want to dance with Ken?”

I looked at him, a shy smile on my face. He was tall and gangly, but I was short and skinny. He wore glasses. So did I. He had mild acne. So did I. He wasn’t one of “The Cool Kids,” but neither was I. But I liked him! A lot! With a shy smile on my face, my eyes downcast, and maybe a slight tinge of a blush, “Oh, yes, Mrs. Jenkins. I really do. If it’s OK. I don’t want to get into trouble.”

“I told April’s mom you’re a good kid, Ken. But she gave me 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,” he said

“I will talk to Mom and Dad tonight, but yeah, that’s good.”

“For tonight, April, you sit with me during the first Act. Ken, you sit with me during the third Act. That’s also one of the conditions. During the second Act, stay backstage away from each other until it’s time for your dance.”

“Uh, Mrs. Jenkins. If it’s all right with you, I won’t kiss Ken until I talk to my folks.”

“That’s a good idea,” Ken said as Mrs. Jenkins approved. “I don’t want you getting into trouble.”

During the dance sequence, we twirled around the stage. His beautiful auburn eyes enveloped me. Once again, everything faded away, leaving just Ken, me and the music. I could get lost in his auburn eyes! I wanted so badly to kiss him, but I somehow managed to control myself.

I spoke to Mom and Dad that night. “It’s against our better judgement,” Dad said, “but you can kiss this Ken. But only on stage, and only during the play.”

“Only while you are dancing!” Mom agreed, adding a stern warning about what would happen if I kissed him any other time.

We had two more dress rehearsals before opening night on Thursday. I was careful to follow the rules. Roberta sat with Dave at their morning euchre games, but I didn’t. That didn’t keep me from strolling slowly past the open cafeteria doors wishing I could sit beside Ken. The thought that Mom and Dad would never know crossed my mind, but I chose not to.

I was happier all day Tuesday, looking forward to dress rehearsal. I sat next to Mrs. Jenkins, watching Act One, and confided what my parents had told me. During Act Two, Ken and I held hands in the wings, waiting to go on. I whispered, “I spoke to my folks last night.”

“Go!” the stage manager urged on our cue as I slipped into his arms.

I’m sure my eyes sparkled. “It’s OK for me to kiss you, but only on stage!” Our on-stage kiss felt wonderful, and I wanted another, but I held back. “That was nice!” I whispered.

All the same, the dance ended. The lead actors continued the play as I slipped my hand into the crook of his elbow. He pantomimed pouring me a cup of punch as we walked off-stage. The punch would be real during the actual performance.

After the final dress rehearsal on Wednesday, Mrs. Jenkins brought the cast on stage for final instructions, and to rehearse the curtain call. She had Ken and me stand together for the bow. She pulled all six of us background dancers aside after dismissing the rest of the cast. “For all intents and purposes, each of you three couples are a single entity for the play. April, if your parents say about where you and Ken stand, please have them talk to me.”

“I will.”



Mom and Dad drove Roberta and me to school for opening night. “Are you girls nervous?” she asked.

“Oh, yeah,” I admitted.

“Dave says I’ll be fine, but, yeah, I’m nervous.”

“You’ll be fine, Roberta.”

She was right. Once I got backstage, horsing around with everybody else, my nerves went away. I saw Ken looking at me. I shyly waved to him. I so wanted to go talk to him, wish him well, to break a leg, but I didn’t.

The play itself went fine. During our dance scene, again everything faded away except Ken, me, the music, his arms around me. Our kiss felt spectacular; I didn’t even think of my little brother in the audience, and what he’d say afterwards.

I was still excited after our scene ended. Ken grinned as we got backstage, and took me in his arms twirled me around a couple steps. I followed his lead, giggling. I started to move in to kiss him again, which I dearly wanted to do, but I stopped myself, putting my hand on his chest and backing off. Instead, I thanked him, smiled, and walked away. I glanced back and waved. He wore a gorgeous smile.

He got out of sight before I dropped my smile. Mom and Dad were just being unfair. I took out my anger in my line in the third Act, really belting out that hanging was too good for Van Dyke Thomas, the lead character.

Once the final curtain came down after our bow, I still felt a bit upset. Feeling almost rebellious, I refused to let go of his hand as we walked off stage. “That was a lot of fun!” I cried.

“It was better than last year’s play,” he agreed. “For me it was, anyway.”

As we came down the steps together to the hall, I so wanted to hug him, to kiss him. But I was reluctantly a good girl.

My family waited for me in the gym. “You were pretty good,” Kevin said.

“Excellent job, Sweetie,” Mom said.

“You were really good,” Dad added.

“April kissed a boy!” Kevin teased.

Dad spun on his heel. “I warned you, Kevin. Now sit down and shut up!”

I blushed. “Thank you, Dad.”

“April, you’re Mom and I have been talking.” Dad actually looked uncomfortable.

“Do you still like him?” Mom asked. She looked uneasy, too.

I was confused. “Do I still like who?”

“That boy,” Dad said. “Ken.”

“More importantly,” Mom added, “does he still like you?”

“I-I … I think so.”

Mom and Dad looked at each other. They really looked uncomfortable. I wondered what on earth was going on. “We are your parents, and we try to do what is in your best interest,” Dad said.

“But we are human,” Mom continued. “We can be wrong. And we can change our minds.”

Dad looked like he wanted to apologize. “We can make mistakes.”

“We’d like to talk to him. That is, if you still want him to be your boyfriend.”

I looked at them, almost in shock. “Wha— … What are … Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Mom smiled. “Go find Ken and find out!”

I dashed away, slamming through the gymnasium door. “Where’s Ken?” I cried. “Ken? Ken! Where are you?” I grabbed somebody, I didn’t know who. “Where’s Ken Larsen? Have you seen him?”

“He’s moping in the hall,” Roberta said. “What’s wrong?”

I didn’t wait to answer her, but spun around. “Ken? Where are you, Ken?”

I heard a voice say, “April?”

“I need to talk to Ken!”

“April?” I heard Ken’s voice.

“Where are you?”

“I’m down the hall.”

I dashed down the hall. “Oh, Ken! There you are!” I sprinted toward him. “Oh, Ken!" I leapt into his arms, nearly knocking us down. “Ken! Do you still want me to be your girlfriend?”

“What?” he stammered. “Yes! But your parents … Yes! Definitely!”

“Great!” I kissed on the lips. “I’ve wanted to do that all day!” I grabbed his hand. “Come on! You gotta meet me parents!”

I practically dragged him to the gym. “Can you believe it, Ken? I’m so happy! Can you believe we’re gonna be boyfriend and girlfriend? It’s so great”

He stopped me at the door to the gymnasium. “It’s fantastic, April. But how?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care. I just know that in a few minutes, I’m going to be your girlfriend!”

I was practically running when we got into the gym. “Ken, this is my Mom and Dad. Mom, Dad, this is Ken Larsen, the boy I’ve been talking about.”

“Non-stop!” Kevin added.

“Stop it, Kevin!” Mom growled.

“He wants to be my boyfriend.”

“Oh! Boyfriend!” Kevin cooed. “Kissy! Kissy!”

My face burned bright red. “Kevin!” I cried, hiding behind Ken.

“Kevin! Sit down and shut up! Now!” Dad ordered.

“That’s my little brother,” I meekly explained to Ken

“I have one, too,” he said. “I understand.”

Dad stepped forward, his hand extended. “I’m Dale Fowler. This is Marge. We’re April’s parents.”

“I’m pleased to meet you, Sir,” Ken said, shaking Dad’s hand.

“How old are you, Ken?”

“I’m 15. I won’t be 16 until March.”

“My God!” Mom exclaimed. “When April said you were an upperclassman, I thought she meant a senior!”

“I’m a sophomore.”

“I hope you know there’s no way I’d let my 14-year-old daughter date an 18-year-old senior. She won’t even be 15 until December.”

“But we saw how you looked at April when you were dancing,” Mom said.

“And how she looked at you,” Dad added.

“Mrs. Jenkins had some very nice things to say about you, too, Ken.”

I looked at Mom and Dad. They both made slight nods. “So,” I smiled at Ken as they slipped away from us. “Am I your girlfriend?”

I had never seen his smile that bright. “Do you want to be my girlfriend? Because I’d like to be your boyfriend.”

I thought my chest would burst. “Oh, Ken! You know I do!”

He pulled me into a hug, but didn’t try to kiss me. “You know, Ken,” I said, pulling away from him to look in face. “We’re gonna have to thank Mrs. Jenkins.”

“For what?”

“For not changing our dance partners when I asked her.”

“I’ll bring you a ring tomorrow,” he said, pulling me into a hug again. “It’ll have to do until I get my class ring in January.”

“It’ll be fine.”

We stood there for a few minutes, embracing, when I heard him say very quietly, “I love you, April.”

Burying my face in his shoulder, I held him tight. “I love you, too, Ken!”