Dating a high school cheerleader!
by Charlie Leck
by Charlie Leck
Another blog about my 50th high school class reunion
but I think it’s good for my soul to write it.
Holden Caulfield had nothing on me. Remember him? The Catcher in the Rye? He was pretty messed up and confused. He really did dumb things. His mind was in chaos. Things were happening too quickly for him. He couldn’t have made a solid, sensible decision no matter how hard he tried. His brain was tongue tied.
When I was sixteen I was a real mess too. I couldn’t figure anything out – not chemistry, algebra, French or human relationships. Enough people certainly made friendly overtures toward me, indicating their interests in friendship; yet, I was always confused by it. I often looked at myself in the mirror and wondered how anyone could want to be my friend. I would rather have sat in my room and listened to my cheap, tinny radio play the top 25 songs of the week. I tried to study, but nothing made sense. Conjugating verbs in French was a mystery I couldn’t handle. What is this business about the value of X? What the heck is a chemical compound? You think I jest, but I don’t.
I was totally convinced that I was one brain-dead dude. Convinced! The only class I enjoyed was literature. The only activities I found enjoyable were public speaking, debate and drama. They made sense to me because one could then play this game of make-believe. Reality blew my mind!
One of my problems was that I was always falling madly in love with girls who were out of range. I was in the drama club with one of life’s most spectacularly beautiful girls. June Lillian Reinertsen was Norwegian and I was left breathless every time I looked at her. She was a year older and a senior when I was a junior. We were in one of the school plays together and worked closely. Sometimes I’d walk to play practice with her and she’d be so kind and nice to me that it confused me. I cannot tell you how much courage it took to ask her to go have a burger and a soda after play practice one night. Very kindly she explained that there was this fellow – a college guy – who she was dating and it wouldn’t seem right to snack with me. They were going steady!
“You’re a great guy, Charlie, but I can’t go out with you.”
It was okay.
Sure it was okay! Like getting slammed to the turf in football practice by Bob Hoffman was okay! On the football field he was one of the meanest, strongest guys you’d ever meet. I can’t tell you how many times he slammed me to the ground. That’s how it felt when June said she couldn’t even have a burger with me. Oh well, how could you date a senior anyway? I didn’t even drive yet.
It seemed a rule of life that all the really beautiful girls had boyfriends who were a few years older. To my little, confused mind it didn’t seem fair. But, as I learned later in life, there is no justice in matters of love and the heart. I developed a guiding principle I have followed faithfully since: “Life is not fair!”
As my junior year played out, along came Gloria. I’d just been dumped by a freshman girl, but that was okay. I deserved it. Gloria was a senior and a cheer leader and she had the most beautiful smile I had ever seen. She sent signals that she liked me. Wow! A cheer leader liked me. She was tall and muscular and very athletic, but that’s okay because I was tall and strong. We hung around together after basketball games. The gym would close and we’d go outside and stand in the cold, night air, chatting. One night, after one game, while we stood together in front of the school, she leaned forward and kissed me. That gave me the nerve to ask her to go for a burger. I didn’t drive yet. We walked over to the burger place near the school and I had enough money to buy her a malt, a burger and some fries. She laughed heartily at almost everything I said. My god she was nice. I looked at my watch and panicked a bit. My brother was to pick me up in the high school parking lot and drive me home. It was okay. She’d call her parents. I ran full out across the length of the campus to the parking lot at the south end. My brother was waiting, but he was cool.
It took a couple of weeks for me to ask her out. We’d go to a movie and, afterwards, somewhere for a snack. My brother agreed to drive. He brought his girlfriend along, but they disappeared when they dropped us off at the movie in Netcong. It was a great night and we had a good time. We’d been seeing each other every day at school and the vibes were really good. We kissed again a few times and I thought it was a wonderful thing to do. I had dated a younger girl for a while and we had kissed, but it was sort of like saying goodbye to your sister when she went off to college. Kissing Gloria was like saying “hello” and “I’m really glad to see you again.”
At night, in bed, I’d think about her. I could hear her laughter and see her giant smile. My, she was a lovely girl. I wondered why she didn’t have an older boyfriend. She was too special not to. Her lovely kisses were certainly nice, but laughing with her was as wonderful as anything I had ever known.
One day I told my brother I wanted to take her to a basketball game and then out for pizza. Would he be willing to drive?
“She’s Negro, you know,” my brother said.
“What?” It seemed such an odd thing to say.
“She is. Don’t you know it?”
“No, she’s not! She’s South American! Or Italian, I think, or, maybe, Greek!”
“No, she’s not! Look how dark she is.”
“Wait a minute! What does it matter? I like her. She likes me. She’s really nice.”
“Mom doesn’t think it’s a good idea!”
“What? Mother has never even met her!”
My god! It hit me like someone shot me! Was there no end to the problems of romance? Here was someone with whom I just liked doing things. It was great fun to be with her. She made me feel adequate. I didn’t feel adequate very often. She drew me out of my bedroom. She made me feel as if I was someone with some kind of worth.
“Are you saying mother doesn’t want me to see her?”
“Yes!”
America was a strange place then! I guess it still is.
I felt as if I had died. I made up some lame excuse. Gloria pretended that she understood. We remained friends right up until her graduation. I remember kissing her cheek on her graduation day and there were tears in my eyes.
In my year book she wrote: “Remember the good times we had!”
Gloria, dear, forgive me! I don’t care what you are or were! You were beautiful and you were so nice to me. I had so few friends who understood me and I didn’t need to lose one of them the way I lost you.
May I say it gently? I really liked you, Gloria. I really liked you! You were a lovely friend.
Gloria, of course, won’t be at the class reunion. Too bad! Maybe if she would be there I’d go, so I could kiss her cheek and say I’m sorry.
I had a lot of good friends in that class ahead of me.
That’s the class I should have been in. I remember a
lot of those kids: Janet Bigg, the wonderful Finnegan
sisters, Jackie Cleland, Tommy Esposito, Stan Woods,
Sue Smith, Tony Santella, Chip Salmon, June Reinertsen,
Joel Mitchell, Adele Hopler, George Johnson, Ted
Neswald, Sandy Green, Lolly Nash, Trev Murphy, Jerry
Hunsicker and good old Nocker. That was a wonderful class.
I must write about the Finnegan sisters sometime. They
were then, and probably still are, among the nicest
human beings on earth. If I were to list all my best friends
in life, they would be on the list.
Alas, I too was in love with June Lillian Reinertsen. Until my divorce seventeen years ago, she was my sister-in-law. Imagine how I felt at the family functions having to conceal my true feelings. Although we haven't seen each other since the divorce,certain "Proustian" emotional triggers bring the ache, and longing to the surface. You would think after seventeen years, I would have forgotten her, but as you well know, she is impossible to forget!
ReplyDelete