Breezy and I went to the same middle school and high school, at different times. This makes talking about old times interesting, as we didn't meet until well into our adult lives.
"remember that teacher you had that used to dress all sexy? What was her name?"
"and the one you had with the implants?"
"I had my first boner during the 8th grade dance."
"Cap said I danced too aggressively during mine. He was my date."
"Cap was so gay."
"Probably so."
"Oh no, he was. No probably about it."
And how did I not realize that that scenario totally makes sense until 10 years after we dated? Because I was 14. Wasn't thinking on that level yet.
Cap- I call him that because he was in the CAP program and had to dress in military gear once a week for school- was totally my type. Tall, cute, gorgeous green eyes and curly hair. Lived down the street from me and sometimes we walked home together. I think we ran track together too. We met playing around after school like kids do.
8th grade was the year I had started to grow out of my awkward phase. When I started to look like an actual girl, and that hair trauma my mother put me in was almost grown out. I was what you could call a kiss whore. I kissed all kinds of boys. I'm surprised I didn't have mono, but I definitely perfected my craft.
One day near the end of the school year I happened upon a date with Mr Cap. A mutual friend asked me if I liked him and I was like yeah. Then it gets fuzzy but I think there was a note asking if I wanted to go to the dance with him. I definitely remember another definitely gay friend being involved- he may have given me said note, or, being the gossip queen that he was, hyped me up over Cap. He was actually a big part of my dating my first high school boyfriend, who- shocker!- was also gay. I think he was trying to set me up as a professional beard.
So anyways, Cap and I were walking home after school, with Lauren doing that "I'll give you privacy" walk a few steps in front. I think I was skipping, and skipped right onto a branch on the ground. Part of it jabbed into the back of my leg and gave me a pretty nasty splinter. I notice now that Cap really didn't care, as he suggested we take the long way through the park near my house. He did offer to carry me, but started complaining half way through the trip and I had to limp the rest of the way home. Down a very large hill, with a nice sized piece of wood sticking out of the back of my lower calf. By the time I got home the blood and puss had softened the wood and made it really hard to remove, which my mother attempted and worked at for a very painful 20 minutes, even pulling a piece of my nerve ending out so that to this day I cannot feel anything poking that area of my leg. Just to give you an idea of the severity of that injury, and the lack of care he showed.
A few days later when I was a little better, we went to his house to "get a bandaid." In my mind, this was the time for unsupervised making out. Any private place without adults equalled unsupervised making out. Stairwells, empty houses, long walks through the woods with a tree branch in your leg... And I guess in his mind, this meant I didn't have any bandaids at my house and could be bothered to walk the extra block to get one from him. And that's it.
He showed me around his house. When we approached his room he went in, got something, and came back out without my seeing even the general color scheme of the room. Now I ask you, what kind of 14 year old boy passes up the opportunity to have a girl in his room, even just for a second, just to say he did? Ugh.
In the basement I inched toward him, hoping he'd catch the hint. I remember sitting on his weight bench, after he got up because there "wasn't room for 2 people," watching him wander around the edge of the room. As far away from me as possible. I wasn't as aggressive as I got to be in high school, so I sat there hoping he'd just kiss me already. And then his dad came. I waited for dad to leave, then I went back home myself.
The night of the prom I wore a long, sky/navy blue Bebe gown my dad got me, and my mom did my makeup. Somewhere in my room there are photos of Lauren in her pretty red gown- I think she got ready at my house- and Cap and I looking like 2 awkward teens. For some reason he felt his head should be right next to mine, despite the fact that he was a foot taller than me. The pix used to hang on the mantle, but I think everyone had objections to that. But my mother still carried it around in her wallet until it was replaced with my senior prom picture.
I was raised with Jamaicans and Latinos, and I am African. These facts insure that I dance with my ass. I'm not a two stepper. I'd rather pop it. And I'm pretty sure I could belly dance if I tried. I say this to tell you this: Cap did not know what to do with me. The chaperones threatened to sit us down more than once because we were dancing too close. And eventually he left me there doing the "count of 6," a dance my friend taneisha made up, because I "dance to aggressively" and he didn't want to dance with me anymore. I was a little hurt, but then my boy Omar jumped on it and that helped.
Later he apologized and told me that he didn't mean it the way it came out. We slow danced to some song that I can't remember, but I remember thinking, "he must really like me!" Ha! I'd like to have a talk with pre teen joy.
Through whole thing we never kissed. Maybe once. And he didn't call me after school let out. One rainy day a few weeks later, I smelled smoke and made a joke to the next boy who took me on a long walk, one who dared to kiss me. "Who's house catches fire in the rain?" Turns out it was Cap's. I felt kind of bad, but not that bad. I saw him a few years later when I worked at CVS. He hadn't come out yet, but I was wise enough to pretend not to know him. I don't think I ever knew him.
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