Maddie Marlow and I stood at the gate to my friend Grant Sabatini's parent's backyard, beaming at the huge banner that was stretched from one giant oak tree to another.
Congrats Class of 1985
I took my pride and joy's hand as we strode through the fresh-cut grass towards where classmates were milling around the tables of snacks and soft drinks.
We'd done it! Not more than three hours prior, the entire senior class had walked across the stage at Maple Heights High and were handed that little piece of paper that meant so much to our future. It had been harder for some than others. Maddie, me, and most of our close friends were what many might call nerds. We enjoyed spending our free time immersed in non-sporting activities like gaming, reading, or just contemplating life. While some viewed us as outsiders for our intellectual passions, the few in our circle were tight, always having each other's backs.
One of those friends was Grant. Having been friends since the third grade, we had spent countless hours dreaming about the future, discussing video game strategies, and pondering the opposite sex, who remained somewhat of a mystery to us until sophomore year when we began to realize there was more to life than frequenting video arcades. Even after that awakening, attempting to converse with girls often proved to be an awkward and fruitless endeavor. We would say something we thought was clever, only to be met with perplexed looks and disapproval, whereas the jocks seemed able to say or do almost anything and be rewarded with a coy swoon.
Grant and I hadn't exactly had the best luck with the ladies, but we had our own dreams and aspirations. While most guys our age were out chasing skirts, we had our sights set on something a bit more lofty - college. I wanted to become a CPA, and Grant had his heart set on becoming a doctor. I know what you're thinking - who the hell grows up wanting to be an accountant? But I had a thing for numbers, the way they brought order to chaos. There was something incredibly satisfying about making everything balance to the penny.
So, we studied hard and pushed each other to be the best we could be. Chemistry for Grant, math for me, with a few late-night gaming sessions thrown in for good measure. Those were the things we focused on, knowing that playing the long game would eventually pay off with big houses and gorgeous wives. And our parents, for the most part, supported us. Except for my loser father.
Randy Walker wasn't exactly the most inspiring guy in our town. A once-varsity quarterback who wound up at the Lube and More on Main Street rather than a collegiate gridiron, he split his time between working changing oil or at the dilapidated bungalow that he shared with an equally disappointing high school friend, Hal Dunlop. My Mom, Alice, had recognized Dad's lack of potential early on, and as the drinking and gambling became excessive, she'd finally kicked him to the curb. Eventually, he surfaced at Hal's dump and been there ever since. Unfortunately, Dunlop's place was only a few blocks from ours, and on any given summer evening, the two could be found sitting on an old wooden swing on the porch of that sorry house, drinking beer and talking about the '71 Camaro rotting away on blocks in the front lawn. Almost as if simply talking about it would restore its life. Dunlop hadn't fared much better but had recently been promoted to an assistant shift lead at the Tasty Freeze, where he liked to leer at teenage girls in their tank tops from behind the counter. Honestly, those two deserved each other, and it was only because Hal owned another rundown home in the neighborhood that they had any real steady income. That's how I first met Maddie. Right after she had moved into the single-story three doors down with her mother, Stella, Dad asked me to go collect the rent seeing as he was too lazy to get off his own ass to do so. As soon as she opened the door, I knew she was the girl for me. All lanky, six-foot, no hips or breasts to speak of. But to me, she was drop-dead gorgeous. She later told me how cute I was stammering through my request for a check while trying not to look in those bright green eyes.
All I remember that night while walking back to my mother's house was Madelyn's straight, stringy golden hair on top a volleyball player's body. Not exactly a pinup girl, but any girl that smiled at me back then made a lasting impression.
Using a ladle to pour punch into Styrofoam cups, I handed one to Maddie and surveyed the party. Grant's parents had done it right. Twinkling white lights were draped softly through trees and lawn chairs and blankets dotted the grass for guests to sit. Most of the adults had gathered on one side of the yard next to a privacy fence, laughing a little too loud as the liquor kicked in. Several teachers and the school librarian were sampling the food and mingling with the graduates. Football star Bart Cannon held court with the cool kids at a picnic table, while Shannon Wiley - our class's most promiscuous girl - flitted between groups of admiring boys. Overall, the place was hopping and proved to be a strong turnout for what would not be the only celebration that day for the graduating class.
+++++
After getting our fill of barbecue, Maddie and I set out to cruise the town in my mom's Honda Civic, hitting all the hotspots where it was cool to see and be seen. Main Street, Burger Barn, and the Food Mart at the edge of town. It was something we had done every weekend since we began dating around junior year, but that night it seemed all the more special. Over the years, I had watched Madelyn transform from a gangly teenager into a stunning eighteen-year-old woman. She had retained her slender frame, but her hips had filled out, giving her a classic hourglass figure. Her blonde hair now flowed down her back in waves, and her long legs added to her statuesque presence, reminiscent of the fashion models of the day. In fact, with everyone beginning to tell her how beautiful she was, she had been developing an ambition to be a model. Talk of modeling school and dreams of being on the cover of Vogue began creeping into our conversations. While I listened patiently, I secretly doubted her success in that field. And yet, I admit there were a few times I masturbated while imagining her as a centerfold in one of the seedy magazines I had swiped from Hal's place while visiting my father. All in all, I accepted that she was the kind of girl who turned heads wherever she went and just felt lucky to be her boyfriend. How a scrawny, Poindexter like me landed someone like her I'll never know. Gaunt, short, and bony, the top of my head barely reached Maddie's chin.
Fortunately for me, we had fallen for each other before the "butterfly emerged from its cocoon," so to speak.
Before
the jocks and stoners discovered her transformation and started hitting on her left and right. She handled it all with grace, gently informing her admirers that she was Tim Walker's girlfriend, leaving many of them in disbelief. I must say my chest puffed up a bit when I heard these types of loyal affirmations.
The night of graduation, she was looking especially lovely in a cream ribbed, form-fitting turtleneck sweater and tight blue jeans. Every smile and sideways glance from her were fanning my already out-of-control hormones, and I couldn't wait to get her alone later. Not to have sex, mind you; we were both still dorky virgins who believed in waiting a bit longer, but that doesn't mean we hadn't fooled around. Neither of us drank much, but on those rare occasions, I had received a handjob or two, and she some attention from my fingers. It's not that I didn't want to go further, but unlike my father, I was a gentleman and was willing to wait until Maddie was ready.
As we cruised through the Burger Barn parking lot for the third time, the warm spring breeze in our hair, we heard tell of a kegger on a secluded sandbar down by the Black River. It was a spot just outside of town where farmland began its endless stretch to the horizon. It seemed the varsity football players were organizing it, and anybody that was anybody would be there. Although Maddie and I weren't really into that scene, I could tell from the look in her eyes that she wanted to check it out. Perhaps it was a touch of FOMO or just the realization that the carefree days of our youth were slipping away. Whatever the reason, I kissed her on the cheek and pointed the Civic towards the two-lane blacktop that took us out of town.
+++++
Twenty minutes later, we pulled off the road and crept down a dirt road with craters the size of Iowa. It tossed the Honda around like a passenger on the Tilt-a-Wheel until we came to a grassy clearing where at least two dozen cars were parked. Killing the lights, I coasted to a stop next to a silver Jeep Wrangler. Such a clandestine arrival was really unnecessary. Maple Heights teens had frequented the not-so-secretive river for generations. Even the town's small police force--most of them locals--had grown up partying on the sandbar. Every once in a while a bored deputy would traipse down the trails and harass whoever was unlucky enough to be there. But on graduation nights, even the most cynical of them steered clear, letting the town's future leaders blow off some steam.
The advertised blowout did not disappoint. Two kegs of premium beer, a generator-powered sound system, and lots of frivolity. One could almost hear the collective sigh of the seniors rising above the mist of the dark banks. With young people running here and there, laughter mixed with new-wave and rock as friends patted each other on the back and talked of this or that university. Several of the cool kids looked at each other amused as Maddie and I walked by, hand in hand. None were accustomed to seeing members of the geek squad at any of their gatherings. On any other occasion, they might have made a rude remark, but on that happiest of nights, we were all part of the same class and they seemed to shrug off our presence.
Maddie's face lit up when she saw a girlfriend and ran ahead, giggling. Left alone, I headed to the keg where several members of the lacrosse and football teams were hanging out, cutting up with stupid, beer-induced grins. Amongst them were Bryce O'Neil and Chase Foristell, two of Maple Heights' star athletes.
"Little Timmy Walker," Bryce cried out, for the first time in his life appearing happy to see me. "Have a beer, my man."
I accepted the poorly poured red Solo cup with a nod and listened to the others as they talked cars and tits, all the while keeping an eye on Maddie as she talked with a few of the popular drama queens who had befriended her through class plays. With her hair still done up from the graduation ceremony, it was amazing how much older and wildly sexy she looked. And I wasn't the only one noticing either. Bryce's buddies nudged him as they eyed the girls with bad intent. They all knew he'd had the hots for Maddie and that she'd shut down his every request for a date.
Too bad, buddy boy, she's mine.
Grabbing another beer, I walked confidently over to the hen cluck and handed it to Maddie, putting an arm around her waist. I may have even glanced over my shoulder to see the jocks giving Bryce a hard time as he stood there trying to appear indifferent.
As the night grew long, little by little, couples began to slip away to the trusty woods above the waterline in search of a small patch of paradise. While Maddie was off talking with that year's valedictorian, Grace Parker, I sat on a rock waiting patiently. That was until a hand clasped down on my shoulder. "Hey, Walker."
Startled, I turned my head to see Chase Foristell.
"Looks like the ladies are primed for a little loving, huh?"
I looked around the sandbar. Most
did
look a little tipsy. "I suppose."
"Right? Listen, we're heading over to old lady Grayson's field to grab some flowers. You know how the chicks love their roses. Why don't you come with us and grab a stack for Maddie?"
I smiled to myself as I watched my very animated girlfriend chat it up with Grace. Soon she'd return and we would find our own spot in the woods.
"Yeah, I don't think so."
"C'mon man, it's just on the other side of the access road. Literally five minutes. Easy pickings, great return on investment."
This I considered. The eighty-year-old's garden was like an arboretum, always growing something beautiful and a lot of it. And they were right, roses did melt hearts.
Looking back at Maddie, the conversation she was having didn't seem like it was going to end anytime soon.
"Okay, five minutes."
Moving swiftly, four of us crossed the road and went past the pasture and through the makeshift parking lot. After hopping over a low fence, we burst into a very large and dark field. The others were athletes, fast and surefooted. Try as I might to keep up, I fell behind, suddenly finding myself in a remote area filled with tall brush. Calling out to the others, I got no response. It was quiet. Too quiet. Trudging deeper into the weeds, the moonless, cloudy sky provided no frame of reference. Stopping and starting several times, I turned in various directions, trying to get my bearings. After another five minutes of stumbling, I finally put my hands on top of my head and twirled about.
Fuck.
I was completely lost.
+++++
"Those GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKERS!"
I cursed the boys that had taken me on a wild goose chase, a practical joke the meathead jocks undoubtedly thought oh so funny. I spent another ten minutes wandering aimlessly before the low rumble of cars revving gave me some sense of direction. Walking towards the sound of their engines I eventually stumbled out of the field and onto the dirt road that led down to the river. Brushing straw and insects off my clothing I headed down the trail, cursing every step of the way.
Moments later, I was on the sandbar again. There were way fewer students now and the music had slowed considerably. Rock had been replaced by slower country music which now wafted through the trees to set the mood. The beach was dotted with several couples around small bonfires, making out in the warm glow. Further up the bank, others darted up into the woods. Scanning the bottoms, my eyes searched for Maddie but she was nowhere to be seen.
Surely, she hadn't left without me.
Walking through heavy silt, no doubt deposited there by recent dredgers, I called out her name, hoping she was just with some friends huddled around one of the fires
.
