Here Comes Trouble - Michael Moore [86]
Susie and I had three long hallways to navigate before reaching student council, giving me plenty of time to make my move. I had worked out my pitch that morning in front of the mirror. Keep it cool, don’t make it sound like you’re asking her to go out on a date, have a backup plan to cover up my massive hurt and rejection if she says no. With an optimistic outlook like that, I was sure to score.
I spent all of hallway #1 walking with her and just trying to calm down and make my heart beat at regular intervals instead of watching it push its way through my shirt. Hallway #2 was spent trying to remember my lines—I had forgotten what to say, what to ask (but not who to ask, I knew who to ask, I was walking with her!). We rounded the bend into the third and final hallway and, with the last bit of oxygen I had left, I opened my mouth.
“Su-Susie,” I stammered, “I-I was thinking…”
And at that moment an incoming mortar round in the form of Nick West, captain of the basketball team, president of the class, and possessor of the stolen face of Robert Redford, flew in between us.
“Hey Susie!” he said, as he went in for a quick kiss. “See you after council!”
If anything, I was grateful for Nick’s interruption. I had no idea they were going together, and I would have suffered the worst form of humiliation had I actually been able to get the question out of my mouth. I breathed a sigh of relief. I felt no remorse that the world was an unfair place. To the contrary, I was glad to be reminded that I was not sent to Earth to date homecoming queens. Or at least that sounded good enough to get me through the next hour. (Yes, she became homecoming queen. I admit it—I desperately loved all homecoming queens, each and every single one of them.)
Admission: When it comes to social interaction, I am a shy person. Yes, me. My idea of an exciting Saturday night in high school was staying home and watching Mannix and Mission: Impossible on CBS (Friday night it was The High Chaparral and Nanny and the Professor). Occasionally I hung out with my guy friends, and when it looked like the planned activity of the evening didn’t involve violating state or federal laws or being driven around by a drunken sixteen-year-old, I was every bit the participant in lighting sacks of dog shit on people’s porches, then ringing the doorbell and running like hell.
But girls were far too intimidating to approach, and it was just as well. I had work to do, books to read, and… and… I forgot, but it was important! I was consoled only by statistics and probability: if there were 1.5 billion females on this planet, the chance that at least one of them would want to be with me was something like… 100 percent! So, she was out there. Somewhere. Maybe between Bay City and Sterling Heights, please? If it turned out that my one true love had been placed (mistakenly) in Slovenia, then I guess all I could do was sit back and hope that CBS would renew Mannix for another season.
Date #1
It was in my junior year when the gods, perhaps bored out of their omniscient minds from being so godlike perfect all the time, decided to play a practical joke on me, just to see me collapse into a puddle of misery. Out of nowhere, they sent Linda Milks, a senior—and a cheerleader!—over to my locker on the last day of the school year.
“Hey—I was thinking—you want to go out on a date with me?”
I assumed she was talking to someone else on the other side of the locker door, so I kept fumbling with my combination.
“Hey, you!” she said, gently slugging me in the shoulder. “You wanna go out with me?”
I was paralyzed with fear and unable to speak. The fear quickly turned into embarrassment as I looked around to see who sent her to play this mean-spirited prank on me. But there was no one around in the hallway. Just Linda, looking up at me with those rich brown eyes, long dark hair and a body (a girl’s body!) that was covered by a maroon and gold graduation gown.
“Um, me?”
“Yes, you! C’mon, it’ll be fun. You like me, don’t you?”
“Uh, yeah, sure. Sure, I mean, you’re… Linda!