Thank you again to blackrandl1958 for editing and encouragement.
"Okay, babe, I guess it's time for me to go. I'll catch you again next week if the weather stays good. I love you," I said.
It was truly a beautiful day: 75 degrees, sunny, very slight southern breeze. I packed up our little picnic back into the basket and put it into the trunk of my car, along with my lawn chair. I felt peaceful, serene, and yes, a little sad. Visiting with Cat always did that for me.
I'd been in love with her since we were 12 years old, and I guess I'll be in love with her until the day I die.
My then-best friend Robert Bruce and I were playing catch in my front yard the first time I saw Cat. She and her family were moving into the house next door that had been for sale. It was the middle of the summer before second grade. I was seven.
Robert and I were casually glancing over at the moving men and the family that was moving in to the house that had formerly belonged to the Miller family when I spotted her. She was skinny, had long blonde braids and a lot of freckles. It was only later that I found out she also had azure eyes.
We watched off and on and threw the ball back and forth for a while before the girl went to her father and started to talk to him, gesturing at Robert and me. I saw her father nod his head, then she ran into her house, emerging seconds later with her own baseball glove and headed for us.
"Can I play, too?" she asked, her smile revealing a bunch of crooked teeth.
She introduced herself as Catherine McVay, Cathy to her friends who were girls, but Cat to her friends who were boys.
I could see Robert scrunching up his nose, but I'll admit to being entranced. I overruled Robert and we played catch three-way. She could hold her own with her glove, and just as important, she didn't throw like a girl. As far as I was concerned, she was in, expanding our little group of friends to four, with Jimmy Arthur being the other.
Although we had more than enough girls in our neighborhood for her to play with, Cat spent most of her time with the boys. She was with us for baseball, kickball, war and Frisbee. I didn't see her spend much time with the girls, especially when they were playing dolls or dress-up.
Little by little, Cat overtook Robert as my best friend. If I could only have one friend go somewhere with my family, Cat was my choice; one friend to spend the night, Cat was my choice.
Cat's family was Catholic, not that it made a difference... until she made her confirmation when she was 12. Confirmation is a pretty big event to religious Catholics, and there's usually a big party afterwards.
Like most of the girls making their confirmation that day, Cat was wearing a white dress, with white tights. Very unusual for her, her hair was down. She had gotten her braces off her teeth two weeks before, and she wore a little bit of makeup. I was lost.
I looked at Cat like I had never seen her before. She was... beautiful. My life would never be the same again.
"What are you staring at, Julian? Close your mouth, you're going to catch flies," she said when she saw me gawking at her. "Don't you dare say a thing about this dress, or I'm going to give you a wallop so hard you won't see straight for a week."
I remember not being able to breath well or think well for the entire party. All of us kids were told to be on our best behavior, but I couldn't have misbehaved that night if my life depended on it. I was a vegetable. My heart was beating wildly. I was sweating. If I had been a 65-year-old man, they probably would have rushed me to the hospital figuring I was having a heart attack.
I waited until the party was just about over before I finally sidled over to Cat, took her by the hand and walked her over to a quiet spot.
"Boy, your hands are really sweaty," Cat said as we walked. "What did you need to tell me that you couldn't tell me in front of everyone else?"
"Y-you... you're beautiful, Cat," I stammered, my heart jackhammering in my chest.
I'm not sure I've ever been hit so hard in my entire life to that point. She popped me right in my mouth, cutting my bottom lip and knocking me to the ground.
"You're a stupid jerkface! Don't ever talk to me again!" she rasped at me as she stomped off.
I just lay there in the grass on my back, wondering if she meant me.
I don't know how long I lay there, but the next thing that made any sense to me was my mother helping me to a sitting position and pressing a napkin to my bloody lip.
"Are you all right, Jule?" she asked, calling me by the nickname that ONLY my family ever dared to use. "What happened? Who hit you?"
"Cat. Cat hit me because I said she was beautiful," I mumbled through the napkin.
"You told her she was beautiful and she hit you?" Mom asked with a giggle.
I nodded, upset that my mother seemed to be laughing because Cat hit me.
"Oh, sonny boy, you made a biiig mistake saying that to Catherine," she said, slowly helping me to my feet. "Tomorrow you probably need to apologize. Let's go home now."
"But Mom, why should I apologize? She is beautiful," I whined as we walked to our house next door.
"Weren't you just wrestling around on the floor with her yesterday playing WWF Superstars or something? Now today you tell her she's beautiful. Does Catherine look like the kind of girl you call beautiful?" she asked.
This was the first of many times in my life that I wouldn't understand the female of the species.
Cat's mom greeted me with a knowing smile when I knocked on the McVays' front door the next day.
"She's in the family room, Julian. Why don't you go into the kitchen and I'll send her in there so you guys can have some privacy," she said.
Cat was grinning like a hyena when she walked into the kitchen. I knew she was pretty proud of herself for the shot with which she hit me. My lip was swollen and was purplish. I was more mumbling than actually talking.
"I'm sorry, Cat. I shouldn't have said what I did," I rasped.
"No, you shouldn't have, but I guess I shouldn't have sucker-punched you," she answered. "My mom said that you were actually being nice. When did you learn that?"
I shrugged. "Must have been something my mom taught me. She was obviously WRONG!"
Well, I won't tell anybody that I gave you that fat lip if you don't tell anybody that you called me beautiful," she said.
"Deal!" I said enthusiastically, sticking my hand out for a shake. "But Cat, you really were beautiful."
"Thanks, I guess," she whispered.
I never again told Cat she was beautiful, at least for the next few years, but I also never looked at her the same way again. She would never again be just Cat... one of the guys.
It also didn't help when Cat started developing boobs. Suddenly I wasn't the only one looking at Cat in that way, and I have to admit, I didn't like it one bit. I kind of always thought of Cat as mine, and suddenly other boys seemed to be coming out of the woodwork to talk with her and flirt with her. To her credit, though, she didn't seem too affected by this, which at least gave me small solace. She was still "my Cat," at least in my mind.
Junior high schools are the bastion of teenage hormones, and our school was no different than any other. I know my hormones were often on alert, but I knew I had to be careful. There was no way I wanted to get punched again by Cat.
There were plenty of other attractive girls in my junior high, but I really only had eyes for Cat. The problem was that I seemed to be stuck in her "friend zone," because we had been so tight for so long. Other guys had no such worries and often approached her; each time I would die a little inside.
Since I watched Cat so carefully, I noticed that she wasn't quite the same as all the other girls. I mean, she was no longer quite the tomboy she had been earlier, but she didn't seem to be quite as into the teenage girl thing as the others... not that I was complaining.
Group dating was the in thing in junior high, although some individual dating was starting. Cat usually hung with me during the group dates, and she never accepted any individual dates, although I know she was asked. As for me, there weren't any girls in Cat's stratosphere, so I didn't ask any other girls out.
The spring dance for the eighth-graders was the big social event of the year for our school. Of course I asked Cat to go with me, then I ducked. She didn't swing on me, and she said yes.
Cat wore a very nice dress that I had never seen before, and I wore my Sunday suit. I thought we made a nice couple. Both sets of parents made sure to take lots of photos of us. Before my dad drove us over to the school, her father pulled me over to the side and threatened my life if I dared to touch his daughter in a way that my father wouldn't want my younger sister touched.
"That's after she kicks the living daylights out of you. Got it, Julian?"
"Absolutely, Mr. McVay," I rasped.
We had a pretty good time at the dance. We danced together several times and stuck together for much of the event. Several other boys asked her to dance, but she turned them all down flat. I felt like King Kong.
Dad drove us home at the end of the night. As I walked her to her door, my palms were sweaty and my heart was pounding in my chest. This was the moment of truth: I had planned to kiss her good night, assuming she was going to say yes to my ask. There was no way I planned to spring a kiss on Cat.
While Dad took the car back to our house and left us alone on her porch, I croaked out my request for a kiss, surreptitiously watching her hands. She thought about it for several seconds before quietly nodding. I'd seen these things done in movies before, so I stepped in, wrapped my arms around her back and gave her what I thought was a pretty good kiss right on her warm, soft lips. She didn't move for the first couple of seconds, then returned the kiss with her hands on my shoulders.
I was pretty sure my brain short-circuited for a bit. When I regained my ability to think several seconds later, I shivered from head to toe as we separated.
"Did you feel that?" I asked in a whisper.
She looked at me like I had grown a second head before she totally crushed my soul.
"No. I didn't feel anything," she answered. "Was I supposed to feel something?"
Aarrgghh! No! No! No! This was not supposed to go that way. James Bond never got a response that bland when he kissed a woman.
"Well... good night, Cat. I had a nice time," I mumbled.
"Yeah. Me too," she said before going into her house.
Although Cat and I weren't actually dating as our freshman year unfolded, we still hung out a lot as always. After all, she was still my best friend. She was, however, now spending more time than ever with other girls. I'll admit to being a little perplexed as she previously never seemed to want to spend that much time with her peers. I suppose I should have known that sooner or later, she would turn into a full-fledged girl.
Being an idiot, I never gave a thought to asking Cat to be my date for the homecoming dance. I just assumed she knew we were going together. Apparently, she didn't, because I found out about three weeks before homecoming that she had accepted a date with a junior hunk, Chris Tambran, for the event. I found out about the date when she told me in passing later on that day.
