This is a mostly true story of my wife and me. Because it happened more than 50 years ago, the actions and dialogue are accurate as I can remember them.
Note: No sexual contact between characters in this story occurred before they were 18 years old.
(.)(.)
It was late August 1955; I was in a new school district having left my friends at my old school and not knowing anyone in my new one. Mom cheerily told me as I was walking out the door, "You'll meet a new friend today."
I walked down to the corner and waited for the big yellow school bus to my first day of class in the third grade. The bus stopped at the corner and I got on. The bus was nearly full, so I walked toward the back, looking for an empty seat. About the fifth row, a girl my age was sitting by herself, so I asked, "Is this seat taken?"
"Yes," she replied, "I'm saving it for my best friend, Kathy, but you can sit here too."
"Thanks," I answered, as I sat down next to her. She was cute with deep blue eyes and light brown hair.
"I like your lunch pail," she said brightly, as she pointed toward the jet plane on my lunch pail.
"Thanks," I said again. "My dad was in the Air Force, and he bought it for me."
"You're new here, aren't you?" she asked.
"Yes... Third grade."
"I'm in the third grade too," she said, holding her small hand toward me. "My name's Jennifer, but you can call me Jenny."
"I'm Bob," I replied.
That was the first meeting with the girl whom I grew to love and whom I eventually married.
"We'll be in Mrs. Wheeler's class. She's a very nice teacher. You'll like her," she said.
At the next bus stop, another girl our age got on the bus. "That's Kathy," Jenny pointed out.
When Kathy saw Jenny and me sharing the seat, she started toward the back of the bus.
"Kathy, you can sit with us." Jenny said. "Bob, scoot a little closer so Kathy can sit with us."
I slid toward Jenny, allowing Kathy to sit next to me. The bus seat was made for two adults, but it fit we three elementary school students, if just a little too snugly.
Jenny introduced Kathy to me. Then Kathy and Jenny carried on an animated conversation, while I listened to them talking about their summer vacations.
When I arrived home from school that day, Mom asked, "Did you make a friend at school today?"
I answered, "Actually I made two friends—Jenny and Kathy."
"You'll have to invite them over after school sometime. I'll make some brownies or a batch of cookies for an after-school snack."
Jenny was a cheerful little girl, with a sunny disposition, and over the next few months, I became fast friends with both Jenny and Kathy. The three of us lived only a few blocks apart in our Chicago suburb, so we spent a lot of time together after school at the playground or riding our bikes around the neighborhood. My house was about halfway between Kathy's house and Jenny's, so the three of us frequently found ourselves at my house. Another reason they visited me was my mother's brownies or cookies ready for us after school. Many times, we spent hours playing board games at my house.
Mom said she was happy I'd found such nice friends in our neighborhood. Unfortunately, there weren't any boys my age who lived nearby, so my best friends and playmates were girls.
Mom was a seamstress, and that Halloween, she made Jenny and me Halloween costumes. We went trick or treating hand in hand—Jenny was Raggedy Ann and I was Raggedy Andy.
Time passed quickly. By the time we finished third grade, Jenny, Kathy, and I were the Three Musketeers, spending a lot of time together doing school projects or just hanging out with one another.
Of course we didn't realize it at the time, but Jenny and I had formed a strong bond. Our personalities seemed to coincide—we liked the same books, activities, foods, music, so on. Kathy was still a great friend, but I wasn't as close to her as I was with Jenny.
As time passed, we grew taller. Before we knew it, we were in sixth grade. We studied fractions in math, read Tom Sawyer, wrote themes, learned about the scientific method, and discussed American history.
In eighth grade, a family with a boy named Larry, our age, moved into the neighborhood. He was taller than me, stronger, and better looking. At first, I thought he might be a threat to my friendship with Jenny, but he and Kathy hit it off from Day One.
We found ourselves in junior high and experienced the awkwardness of puberty together. There was something interesting about girls that I hadn't noticed before. The tomboys I'd played with in grade school were now getting curves, wearing their hair differently, and wearing bras.
By the time Jenny and I were sophomores in high school, we were still great friends—no, make that sweethearts. I'd fallen for her—hard. A few months after my 16th birthday, I obtained my driver's license and asked Jenny for a date. She was my first date, and I was hers. We went to a movie as I recall, but the movie's title escapes me. However, I do remember our first, but embarrassing kiss. My heart beat like a triphammer. I don't know what Jenny felt, but she soon accepted my request for a date to a another movie.
Many times Jenny and I double dated with Larry and Kathy. The four of us got along well and my parents let us use the basement game room to dance to rock and roll records on our record player. We also played ping-pong or darts. Mom said she and Dad felt better about us spending time at our home than worrying about us out on the streets at night.
Once we started dating, we almost always had our Saturday nights planned a week ahead. Jenny's mother had been icy toward me when Jenny and I were in grade school, but now that I was dating her daughter, she was downright unfriendly.
Something I thought odd about Jenny was that it always appeared she was larger around her bust line when we went on dates. One time at a school dance, it appeared she was wearing a padded bra and as I danced with her, it felt as if she wore a corset. Although Jenny was slender, she always wore a corset when we went on dates.
Wearing a corset when it wasn't necessary seemed odd, so I asked her about it. She told me her mother made her wear a corset and a tight, padded bra, as her mother said, "for her protection." I presume her mother thought I was a threat to her daughter, but Jenny and I had never made out, and I respected her as a young woman. Our love was more on a platonic level, but Jenny was always my favorite girlfriend.
Other students in our high school class called us "the old couple" because we had been together for most of our young lives. Not that we cared—we followed a path less traveled by most of our friends.
We both benefited from our relationship. Jenny helped me in English and history, while I helped Jenny with geometry and trigonometry classes. We each had our own God-given talents, and it felt special that we could share them and help each other.