Not One, but Two

I wasn’t sure what to do.

It was February of my junior year, and John had just asked me to Prom.  Right there, as I stood in the hallway waiting for my friends to show up to go to Chemistry with me.

I wasn’t dating John.  I was “dating” (if you could call our latest round of harsh words over the phone at night and not having seen each other in months) Ray.  But Ray lived a hundred miles away and didn’t have a car.  He didn’t have a job either, so his prospects for getting one (not to mention money for Prom tickets) were slim.

I had always wanted to go to Prom.  I’d spent my first two years in high school waiting for boys to notice me, waiting to get asked to Prom or Homecoming.  The invitations never came, and I felt like an ugly duckling of sorts, the girl who stood by the wall and never got noticed.

Now, noticed.  What to do?

I didn’t know John well.  He was the twin of my girlfriend Jill’s boyfriend.  That’s how we met.  He was in band and had some of the same friends I did, so we knew of each other and sometimes ended up in the same places at the same time.

He was bookish, tall, not drop dead gorgeous but certainly someone I could see dating.  If he’d asked me last year, this would have been a no brainer.  But now?  What to do?

Plus, it was February.  Prom was in May.  That was a long time from now.  What would happen in between?  Would we be friends that went together?  Would we date in the interim?  Would that mean having two boyfriends?  Would it matter?  It wasn’t as if Ray was going to catch us (or, considering our last phone conversation, care all that much).  What to do?

I consulted with my Chem Cadre of friends during labs.  The vote was unanimous:  Answer Yes.

They contended that I wasn’t committed or exclusive with Ray yet (me not having shared the news that I Loved him with a capital L), that he was too far away, and that a bird in the hand was definitely worth more than one a hundred miles away.  Plus John was the kind of boy parents liked:  smart, bookish, a senior who had already been accepted to a local architectural college, and employed.  I started defending Ray to them:  “Well it’s not his fault that he doesn’t live here, or have a car…”.

It took a few more classes and consultations with friends before the jury finally swayed my vote.   I answered John in the parking lot after school.

“I’d love to go with you to Prom,” I told him.

“Great!” he answered.  “Do you want to go out with my brother and Jill this weekend on a double date?”

Oy.  I’d gone from no prospects to two boyfriends in a matter of a day.

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One Response

  1. This post makes me nostalgic for high school, and I just recently left it! 🙂

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