The Walk

It was 8th grade, and there was this girl. Her name was Debbie. It was the first official, no holds barred crush of my life. She was more...well...mature than the rest of the girls in school. She wore make up....mainly heavy eyeliner. I remember perfume too...a lot of perfume. The rumor around school was that she had a boyfriend. And he drove.

We had to take square dancing for 2 weeks every year, and every year I hated it. Except 8th grade. This was the first year I started to get it. Debbie was in my class. The girls and guys lined up on opposite sides of the gym and got paired off with the person they lined up across. I started to get wise to this and somehow figured out a way to "coincidently" get lined up across from Debbie. After the first couple times, I can't imagine she didn't start figuring it out. I distinctly remember she had really clammy hands, but I also distinctly remember that it didn't really matter.

We had study hall together and I noticed that she liked to sit in a specific chair in a cubby by the window. I started to get in the habit of getting to study hall early and sit in the seat next to the cubby, so it would seems like she was sitting next to me. We talked a bit. About what I don't remember.

On the last day of 8th grade my school had Field Day. I had just run the 100 yard dash, and finished somewhere in the top 60% of the class. While basking in the glory, I decided to check out the games going on in the gym.

Debbie was in the hallway. She was with a group of 4 or 5 guys. As I came down the hall she came out to meet me. Normally I would have just broken out into a cold sweat, but since she was with a group of guys, I sensed that something as up.

She asked me where I was going. I told her I was heading the gym to check out the basketball games trying to look as cool as possible.. I looked over her shoulder to see some of the guys laughing. She asked me if I wanted to take a walk in the woods. Now the alarm bells went off and I knew something was really, really wrong. I tried to get away and she grabbed me by the shirt and pushed me against the wall. I pushed her back and ran (using that top 60% speed). As I entered the gym I heard laughing behind me.

I can only guess that I was only one in a line of victims of Debbie and her gang that afternoon. But for months after that fateful afternoon on the last day of my Junior High school education, I wondered what would have happened if I called her bluff and took her up on that walk.