To the joyous passing of years
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There was a cheerleader at our high school I wanted to ask out. I summoned my courage and approached her, but she laughed and said she couldn't be seen dating a nerd.
I wondered how she knew I was a nerd, when I had never known that about myself.
I played varsity basketball, but I only started one game. The usual starter was throwing up in the locker room. I played in every game, coming in as an early sub. I rarely turned the ball over and averaged 5 points and 3 rebounds in 14 minutes per game my senior year.
My favorite class that year was calculus. I wondered whether the popular girls circulated a class list. Perhaps that's how she knew.
I applied early for admission to one of the state universities, one at the other side of the state. I was awarded a full tuition scholarship. My parents paid for my share of an apartment with three other guys, but I had to cover books and food. And cheap dates.
I had a nice part-time job on campus. Not one of those janitorial ones in the middle of the night, but I had office hours. I taught non-nerds how to add and subtract, or so it seemed at times! However, my favorite student was a senior running back on the football team. He was genuinely nice to everyone. Even nerds!
In mid-May, I finished my last final and boarded a plane for the two-hour flight back home. I got home late that day, so I went straight upstairs to my room and unpacked. I climbed into bed and soon slept.
The next morning, I got up and put on old basketball shorts to mow the lawn. I never wore anything else.
Before going downstairs, I went to the window that looked out on our neighbors' back yard and pool.
She was there!
Almost three years earlier, the summer before my junior year of high school, the Drake family bought the house next door. Mom got to know Mrs. Drake, and told me they had two older married children.
Their youngest daughter, Monica, was going into 9th grade, although Mom insisted Monica was almost exactly a year younger than me, instead of two years.
I was looking down on Monica. She was almost always by the pool during the summer. Very tanned. Also, very cute. Increasingly so.
I had that pasty look of a nerd in summer. Mowing the lawn without a shirt was my form of tanning.
A couple of times after the Drakes moved in, Mom told me I should ask Monica out, but there were three reasons I refused:
First, it was Mom's suggestion, and I was stubborn enough to do the opposite, even if not in my best interest.
Second, she was in 9th grade, and no self-respecting junior was going to ask a 9th grader out!
Third, I was at the low point of my confidence with girls!
Now, though, my confidence was much higher. That year--actually, that last semester--I discovered there were cute girls with brains.
I lost my virginity to a girl who rolled a condom onto my erection and then mounted me, riding me to a glorious eruption.
A few weeks later, I had sex in missionary position with a girl who tended to scream, especially when I followed her instructions and went down on her. When I asked her out again, she told me she had promised her mother she would not date the same boy twice in a row.
I mowed both the front and rear lawns. I refused to let my parents pay me, because they were already paying for my apartment at school. I took pride in making the lawn beautiful. I mowed in one direction and then cut the lawn a second time at about a 45-degree angle, making a great diamond pattern.
As I finished the second pass, I thought I saw a shadow behind the fence, but it was out of the corner of my eye, so I shrugged it off.
I went back upstairs and glanced out the window. Monica looked up and waved. I almost ducked, but realized how silly that would look, so I waved back.
I showered and then went down to the kitchen to use the phone. This was back in 1990, when cell phones were just starting to be widely available. We had one of those wall-mounted phones with a 20-foot cord on the handset, one of those spiral jobs that was always hopelessly tangled.
I called a couple of friends to let them know I was home. Then I tried calling a couple of girls, but learned they were going steady, or so they said.
Of course, Mom was listening.
"Mark, Monica stopped by last week."
"Oh? What did she want?"
"She asked whether you were coming home this summer, and when."
That's all Mom said. Apparently, she'd learned her lesson about pushing me in the direction she wanted me to go.
I went back upstairs and looked out the window again.
She was still there. I thought she had matured in a sexy way! I had an idea that made me smile.
I walked downstairs and headed for the front door. As I passed through the kitchen, I paused long enough to say something and watch the effect.
"Mom, I'll be back later. I'm going to go say hi to Monica."
It was fun to watch her jaw drop!
"I'm glad, Mark. She's a nice girl."
"Mom, you really need to accept small wins gracefully and resist a victory dance."
She laughed. "That's solid advice. Thanks."
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Monica and I weren't total strangers. We were both at the high school her sophomore year, when I was a senior. My three objections still applied, though.
I rang the doorbell and waited.
The Drakes seemed to have a lot of money. He was some sort of super-banker, and I think Mrs. Drake worked as well. They drove nice cars.
I was about to abandon my attempt when the door opened. It was Monica, in a bikini, dripping wet and forming a puddle on the floor.
"Mark! It's so good to see you!"
She stepped out on the porch and threw her arms around me, instantly getting me wet.
"Did you just get home? How was university life? Oh! I'm sorry to get you all wet. Come inside."
She wrapped a towel around herself, and we sat on bar stools around the island in the kitchen.
"I'm sorry I was so slow to answer the door. I had just gotten out of the pool when I heard the bell, so I ran, but then slipped and fell on the floor tile here in the kitchen."
"Sorry to be the cause of your injury!"
She smiled. I noticed again how much cuter she was.
"How was your junior year, Monica? Did you date much?"
"Not really. I only went out twice."
"You're kidding! With your looks?"
"Thanks Mark, but there were two reasons I didn't date more. On my first date with each of those guys, they made it clear they expected me to give them a blowjob or have sex. I told them to take me home at once, and to never call me again."
"I'm sorry to hear that. There are some real jerks out there."
"Maybe this is in the TMI category, but I'm a virgin. It's not that I'm waiting for marriage, but I'd at least like to wait for love."
She was wiping away tears, and I was thinking about my two sexual encounters. There was no love there!
"Monica... I had sex with two women at school. It was casual, nothing to do with love, and I regret that now. I don't think I'm as good a person as you."
"That's ok, you can choose to change, and I think you'll find I can easily forgive something you regret."
"You said there were two reasons."
She looked into my eyes.
"The other reason was... well... it was you."
"Me?"
"Mark, this is embarrassing. When we moved here, I saw you mowing the lawn..."
"Wait, were you watching me today? I thought I saw someone by the fence. Was that you?"
She covered her face and laughed.
"You are good at homing in on my embarrassment! When we first moved here, I heard the lawnmower. There's a knot hole on the fence, so I looked through it and saw you. I thought you were the most beautiful boy I'd ever seen. I kept hoping you would notice me and ask me out."
"I never knew that. I wish I had."
"It was me watching today. I watched you at school and was even more impressed with you there. One day, I heard a bimbo refer to you as a nerd. I was so mad, I punched her in the nose. I got kicked out and had to come back with Mom to apologize."
"I've been looking for a mean bitch as my security guard."
"I promised Mom I would never do that again!"
