“We’re having a Halloween party today. The kids missed out on Halloween because of the hurricane.” the principal told me. “Help your kids with their costumes and the party will start at 1:10.”
“Okay, great.” I said rushing to my advisory room.
I had a Dracula, Dr. Who, and a vampire among others. There was one boy dressed as Lady Gaga running amuck in the hall.
I helped my kids with their costumes and then it was time.
We all rushed in droves into a dark room with florescent green lights and cobwebs. There was a DJ with his hand on a record player ready to go. He released his hand and the music began to blast. All at once my stomach began to turn. 33, 32, 31, 30, 29, 28, 27…16, 15, 14, 13…12.
I’m 12 years-old again. Standing in the corner of a large gymnasium. Looking at the boy dressed in baggy jeans and a black tee-shirt with spiky hair.
I want him to look at me. If I nod my head to the music and do a little half smile, maybe he’ll notice me. I move to the beat. I tap my foot. I’m cool. I’m cute. I’m going to lick my lips and fix my hair. I hope he sees me. He doesn’t, he’s too cool for me.
Maybe I should have worn a different dress.
He leans in against the wall. A girl approaches him, she’s noticeably taller than him. Her hair reaches beyond her waist. She smiles, reaches over and touches his baseball cap, pushing it over his eyes. He pushes her playfully. She walks away to get some candy from a table in the center of the room.
He’ll never notice me.
He turns his cap sideways and places one foot up against the wall with such confidence that I blush.
I approach the candy table and shove ten pieces of candy corn into my mouth to distract myself from…
“Ms. Fader? Would you mind handling the raffle?”
33, I’m 33 again. I’m responsible for collecting money for the raffle and selling candy.
The baseball capped boy is back in 1991.