Freshman year of high school I had this awesome (and really cute) friend- let’s call him K- who I hung out with quite a bit. The two of us would trade music, skip assemblies to hang out by the swings, and would frequently try to outdo each other in battles of cynicism. At my previous school I’d been a bit of an outsider, which meant that I refused to let myself believe that this good looking and somewhat popular guy might actually like me.
During the spring, he invited me to go to Six Flags with him. I was under the impression that he’d invited a bunch of people but no one else, for whatever reason, was able to make it that day except for the two of us. I was cool with that. I mean, we hung out alone all the time as it was- why should going to Six Flags be any different? Turns out it wasn’t really. Sure there was a bit more flirting and smiling than usual. I, of course, acted super brave and agreed to go on every ride he wanted to take me on no matter how terrified I was. But overall I left the park thinking that I’d shared a ridiculously fun evening with my buddy K. That was until I went back to school a couple days later to hear several of my friends ask, “Soooo, how was Six Flags with K?” (insert annoying voices and inflections here). “It was really fun,” I’d reply. Then, “Was it a date?” “Um, no!” “I’m pretty sure it was a date. I mean, it was just the two of you right? I thinnnnk he liikkkkeees youuu!”
All of a sudden my fun night had to be reassessed in my awkward teenage mind. Were they right? Looking back, it had seemed an awful lot like a date. I frantically dismissed the possibility and continued to refuse the thought that K might have feelings for me, although I was never quite able to view him in the same light again. Sadly for me, I didn’t receive proper confirmation that he had had a HUGE crush on me until senior year, at which point it was all too late. Sigh.
Skip ahead to the present. Perhaps you’ve guessed by now, but it’s been a while since I graduated from high school. Things aren’t quite so coated in drama the way they could be when I was a teenager. Nevertheless, I sometimes think back to who I was in high school and try to remember how I viewed the world once upon a time. Was it really so different from how I see it now?
On Sunday, the other C and I ventured to Great America for a high school style date. This time around, the guy was even cuter, more awesome, and I can say for cereal that he likes me. I’m pretty sure he’s figured out by now that I like him back. Teehee. For a couple of moments it sorta felt like we could be in high school again. Maybe, if we were really sneaky, we could trick others into believing that we weren’t really grown ups.
At one point we waited in line for the front row of one of the roller coasters and watched a group of teenagers duke it out over who was going to sit where. Two girls sat in the front row, which left one girl and two guys. One guy refused to go on and joined a group of other people by the steps. Two remaining. The girl expressed her anger at her friends for sitting in the scariest part of the train by saying “Eff you guys!” and flipping them the bird. The guy, not wanting to be seen with this monstrosity, sits in the row in front of her. Yelling ensues. Eventually guy reseats himself next to girl who continues to swear as the train pulls away.
C and I smile at each other, laugh, and are happy we’re not high schoolers anymore.