Our Dynamic Duo
Every guy in 7th grade pretty much agreed that two girls were top of charts. Both could not be more different–a lava explosion vs a tornado. Hence, their names here-Betty and Veronica.
I’ll start with Betty
She came from poor town, and her clothes showed it. Not hand me downs, but incredibly boring. She had German blood, which gave her a long face and gentle features. Her hair was strawberry blonde to her shoulders. It was always long, with no spray.
She was easy to talk to, but no teacher’s pet–she was a quiet student. Her makeup was minimal, showing her natural beauty. Some freckles by her nose (When she freckled, you’d swear she came from Green Gables or Sunnybrook farm.). Baby blue eyes, small mouth, and dimples when she smiled. Just a classic ‘pretty’ girl.
When she walked down the hall, boys would shake their heads over her clothes. Skirts below the knee, flat shoes, pants not tight enough for our raging hormones. They shook their heads, but not a soul had the guts to talk to her for more than a minute without tripping over their sentences.
This is her walking to class, books against her chest, like a gentle May breeze:
When high school arrived, she awoke from the hang-ups (real 60’s word there) that kept her closeted. By junior year, she discovered shorter hemlines and heels that were significant, showing legs of perfection every male specimen knew were there all along. Her hair went full red, and her nickname became ‘red.’ (What? You thought we’d come up with something poetic? We’re boys, for God’s sake!)
She became friends with the girl who had the locker next to me, so every morning my motor revved. We always exchanged small talk, particularly about her hair–by now, it was changing to a light red. Somehow, it cosmically fit with her gentle softness.
Senior year, she got what she deserved. One of the nicest guys I ever met was handsome Sam from private school. He somehow linked up with guys I hung with. Of course, his family was old money–skads of it. His family name was most ‘famous’ through his grandfather, who jumped off the highest bridge to stop terminal cancer from winning. Betty and Sam fell in love. She was his queen; when together, she glowed from every pore. No one was jealous, cause Sam was so damn nice and so fucking good-looking.
The last time I saw them was a sit-com moment. Whilst waiting at a stop light, I see two people in my rear-view kissing deeply and passionately. Yep, it was the dream couple. I threw the car in park and got out, staring back at them. After a few seconds of dancing tongues, Betty’s right eye opens, and she dissolves in laughter. Sam is blushing. I yell something about ‘couldn’t you at least wait until you parked the car?’, and we go our separate ways.
I hope she married someone nice like she deserved. If not, the universe is running out of equations.