Chapter 20

In the middle of my eighth-grade year, I fell into a pattern of staying after school on Fridays. I found purpose and inspiration assisting Ms. Hardwood by grading papers, and she seemed to appreciate my help. Evaluating other people’s work took my mind off of home life and also allowed me a sneak peek into some of the responsibilities that would be mine should I chose a career in teaching. Despite false allegations still threatening my future, my dream of changing the world remained at the forefront of my mind. My calling steered me toward the field of education.

On this particular Friday afternoon, students had gone home for the day. Val sat at the back of the classroom by her desk entering grades into her gradebook, and I stared down at multiple stacks of ungraded assignments spread across several student desks, gauging where to start. “Which ones do you want me to grade first?” I asked, picking up a red pen.

Val glanced over her lesson plans and thought a moment. “I suppose I should hand back the seventh-grade geography tests during class on Monday,” she replied, “so go ahead and mark those papers first, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Consider it done.” I rummaged through the piles in front of me, locating Map Elements clipped together at the bottom of the second stack. I slid them out from underneath the other papers, showing off my success. “Found ’em!” Pulling out a chair, I sat down at an empty desk and scanned the first sheet. “Anything special I need to know, or is the answer key pretty straightforward?”

Val smiled, seemingly intrigued by my enthusiasm. “Answers are pretty cut and dry,” she confirmed. “Should only be multiple choice, this time.”

“Simple enough.” I inspected the first sheet for answers, acquainting myself with the content, then flipped the page.

When I got about three tests away from finishing the first set, Val’s curiosity broke our silence. “So…has anyone special invited you to the eighth-grade banquet yet?”

I looked up from my assignment, catching the twinkle in her eyes. Struggling to keep a straight face, I marked an incorrect answer on the page in my hand then laid down my pen. “Define special.”

Val leaned back in her chair and laced her hands together across her stomach. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe a certain gentleman named Gavin?” she teased. She watched as I mentally wrestled with playing coy. “Is that a yes…? No…?” Suspense lingered.

My smirk finally morphed into an undeniable smile. “Maaay-be.”

“I knew it!” she beamed. Her voice then singsonged additional sentiments, reminding me of my middle-school status. “Someone has a crush on you.”

Blood rushed to my face, and my cheeks tightened in a grin. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s just a date. Everyone in eighth grade is going. It’s no big deal,” I downplayed the moment.

Val shook her head. “Nah. I’m not buying it. Try again,” she encouraged. “There’s more to it than that.”

I continued to grade the test in front of me, pretending to ignore her.

“Well? Are you going to fill me in on the details, or are you just gonna leave me hangin’?” Her interest spurred impatience.

“Details?” I raised an eyebrow. “You mean like how he had a large teddy bear sitting at my desk this morning when I got to school? Or were you asking about the single red rose the bear was holding with a note tied to it, asking if I’d be his date?”

“Yeah. Those kinds of details,” she cheesed.

“Wait a second…,” I eyed her skeptically. “What aren’t you telling me?”

The twinkle in her eyes sparkled even brighter.

“You already knew the answer to that question, didn’t you?” An incredulous feeling washed over me. “How could you have known?”

She shrugged and tried acting innocent. “Just call it intuition.”

I shook my head. “No. There’s more to it than that.” I watched as her smile grew wider.

“Well, I did pass your homeroom teacher in the hallway this morning,” she confessed, “and I was present when Gavin arrived at the parent drop-off loop before the bell rang. It was kind of hard missing a bear that size coming out of such a small vehicle,” she snickered. “I just put two and two together. That’s all.”

I shook my head, bemoaning her detective work. “He could’ve been asking Jill or Tess or Amber,” I pointed out. “There are a number of other girls who go to this school, ya know?”

Val shook her head. “Oh, no. There’s only one you, and he’s been waiting a long time for this moment.” The smug expression on her face enhanced the mischief in her eyes. “So, how does it feel?”

“How does what feel?” I looked down at the test paper on the desk in front of me and feigned ignorance.

“Oh, you know what I’m talking about,” she countered. “He chose you. That must feel pretty great, right?” Her head bobbed up and down, anticipating my response.

A Cheshire grin displayed my excitement while heat flushed my face for a second time. “Yeah, I still can’t believe it. I’m going to the eighth-grade banquet with Gavin Jacobs. He asked me.”

“Feels pretty good, doesn’t it?” Val sounded almost as giddy as I felt.

I nodded. “I’d be lying if I said no.”

“Then don’t. Enjoy the moment,” she cheered on the moment. “It’s your eighth-grade banquet. It is a big deal, and you have a date with a very fine, young gentleman. You have the right to be happy.”

“I know…and it’s with Gavin.” I let out a soft squeal, barely above a whisper, hardly able to contain the happy I felt inside. But why me? my thoughts wondered. What would make him choose a nobody over Jill? I’m not the prettiest girl in eighth grade, and I’m definitely not the most popular. Did I miss something?

Straightening in her seat, Val reached for her gradebook and picked up a nearby pen. “I’m really happy for you, Kiddo. You deserve to finally have some good in your life. You’re going to have a great time. I just know it.”

Meeting her gaze, I absorbed some of her positive energy. “Thank you for sharing it with me.”

She shrugged, this time at the obvious. “Hey, what are friends for?”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Soft petal-pink cotton formed the conservative bodice and tea-length skirt of my custom-designed banquet dress. Delicate, white, rose-cut lace rested gracefully on top of the fabric, embellishing the short, puffed sleeves and main bodice, which extended to mid torso. Three-inch, pink-satin ribbon defined the waist, tying in the back, and pink pearl-faced buttons fastened up my spine, finishing the look of pure femininity and elegance. Floating into Mom’s and Dad’s bedroom on a natural high and white satin heels, I twirled in front of the full-length mirror, watching my dress swell at the hips and swoosh about my legs as it settled into place. “I feel like a princess.” Catching a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror, I let out a satisfied sigh. “It’s gorgeous!”

Stepping up behind me, Mom organized my long-layered curls into picture-worthy exquisiteness. “Close your eyes while I’ll secure this look,” she instructed. Closing my eyes and holding my breath, Mom coated my tresses with a fine layer of hairspray. “There. Now you’re ready,” she smiled.

Reaching for my white satin clutch, I pulled out a pink tube and applied strawberry-shimmer lip gloss to my lips and smacked them together, spreading the tint from top to bottom. “There. Now I’m ready.”

Looking at me through the mirror, Mom’s smile broadened. “Gavin won’t be able to take his eyes off you. You’re simply beautiful!” She squeezed my shoulders for emphasis.

Tears began to surface. “Now, don’t go messing up my mascara,” I scolded, reaching for a tissue. I delicately dabbed at the corners of my eyes and under my nose.

Mom chuckled, turning me to face her. “No worries. You look absolutely stunning!”

“Thank you,” I whispered, wrapping my arms around her neck.

Dad appeared in the doorway, his masculine voice breaking through our touchy-feely moment. “You gals about ready?”

Turning to face him, I properly curtseyed then fluttered my eyelashes. “Do you think Gavin will approve?”

“Wow! You look uh-mazing! Of course, he will. The boy would be stupid not to.” Chuckling to himself, he added, “Do I need to go get my shotgun?”

“Daddy….” I groaned in teenage fashion. “You don’t own a gun.”

Pride lit up his face, and he winked at me. “Semantics.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

From the moment I stepped out of the car and met Gavin in front of the school, I became his world. “You look BEAU-TI-FUL!” he exclaimed, mesmerized by my presence. Awe draped itself around his words as he reached for my hand. “May I?” Gently holding my fingers, he slipped a gorgeous three-tiered pink rose corsage over my wrist, shaking his head. “The flowers don’t do you justice.”

My cheeks warmed as a hint of shyness captured my voice. “Thank you. They’re pretty.” Lowering my eyes, I stared at the petite buds decorating my wrist and tried not to let my nerves get the best of me. The flowers smell divine, but, then again, so does he! Breathe, Hope. Just breathe. Mentally absorbing the moment, I tried not staring at his charcoal gray sports coat and matching pleated slacks, pink pressed shirt, dark gray silk tie, and black, polished, cap-toe Oxfords. So handsome! I forced myself to exhale.

Carefully picking up a clear plastic box sitting on the hood of Mom’s car, I pried it open and pulled out Gavin’s boutonnière—a single pink rose, lightly embellished with white baby’s breath. Willing my hands to stop shaking, I attempted to pin the flower to his suit jacket. Ignore the fact that he’s staring at you or standing so close he can probably hear your heart pounding out of your chest, I coached myself. This is totally normal. Girls and guys go to formals all the time. You’re not the first girl to pin a rose to a guy’s jacket. You can do this. I touched the delicate petals, straightening the lopsided flower. “There, I think that should do it,” I smiled. “Sorry it’s not perfect, but I think it’ll stay.”

Gavin covered the rose, along with my fingers, with his hand, his eyes fixated on my face. “Breathe. It’s fine.”

I nervously laughed, meeting his gaze. “Glad you think so.” Slowly retracting my hand, I brushed a hint of glitter from my dress.

“We’re going to have a great night,” Gavin predicted, “but, I think we should probably go get on the bus before we miss our ride.” He motioned to the group of eighth graders beginning to load onto our transportation for the evening.

“I’m ready when you are.” I hooked my hand in the crook of his arm, allowing him to lead.

“Wait, just one moment,” Mom piped in. “Let me get a quick picture, first.”

“Absolutely. Take two or three, if you like,” Gavin offered. Pivoting the two of us to face her, we both struck a pose. “I’d love to get a copy, if you don’t mind,” he added.

“Sure thing.” Mom smiled. “I’ll make sure to print doubles.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Gavin proved to be a complete gentleman the remainder of the evening. He opened doors and waited while I walked into a room ahead of him. He listened intently when I spoke and graciously involved me in all his conversations. When I began fading into the background, he honored me with attentiveness, seeking after my thoughts and respectfully acknowledging my opinions. In the subtlest ways, I mattered; and, that didn’t go unnoticed.

Arriving at our upscale Orlando restaurant destination, I glided into the banquet hall on Gavin’s arm. Jenna and her date, Geoffrey, followed close behind. Sizing up the dining room’s large pillars, high ceilings, and massive crystal chandeliers, Jenna gushed. “This is so glamorous!” Fine cloth linens, pristinely polished silverware, and crystal glasses etched with deep grooves and delicate patterns decorated each place setting at our table. Jenna leaned over her chair before sitting down and tapped the stemware with her fingernail, causing a light tinking sound. “Ooo, it’s the real stuff. A girl could get used to this!” she declared, gracefully standing back up.

“They did a nice job picking out the location,” I agreed, softly thanking Gavin for the chair next to Jenna’s. Folding the linen napkin across my lap, I smoothed out a few wrinkles then rested my hands on top of it.

Gavin pulled out his chair and sat to my right, taking a moment to unbutton his sports coat and straighten his tie. “They sure went all out,” he piped in, adding to the consensus. “Pretty spiffy place here. Good thing we thought to dress up.” An appreciative laugh dispersed over the large dining table.

Martini glasses filled with fancy fruit arrived as our first course. Light green liquid cradled the sculpted melon balls, exuding an aroma like minty mouthwash. Gavin took a small bite of cantaloupe, assessing the unique-smelling appetizer. His eyes grew wide, and his chewing diminished to a snail’s pace. Trying to rescue himself from the awkward moment, he coughed slightly and swallowed hard. “I thought kisses were off the table tonight,” he teased, glancing over at me. “I can’t imagine what other reason this place would have for serving mouthwash with dinner.” I pressed my lips shut with my napkin, smothering a rather loud chuckle. The other couples in our group erupted with laughter, as well, causing half the room to turn and look at us.

Geoffrey ignored the attention, consuming a rather big bite from his own portion of fruit. “You’re right, Man! It does taste like mouthwash.” He sputtered, nearly choking on the unexpected taste. “I thought you were kidding.”

“I told you,” Gavin jibed.

“Ooo, gross!” Bethany added from across the table. “Who sat around thinking this was a good idea?”

“Whatever this is, it’s not something I would have ever considered putting on my fruit,” Jenna added. “Guess my taste buds aren’t as highfalutin as I thought.” She wrinkled her nose, accentuating her disapproval.

Swallowing a mouthful of honeydew, I winced as the minty liquid burned all the way down my esophagus. Holding my napkin to my mouth once again, I leaned toward Gavin and whispered. “This really is awful!” I poked at the remaining melons in my cup, biting my lower lip.

“Don’t feel like you need to finish on my behalf,” Gavin authorized. “Can’t say I can stomach it, either.”

Jenna chimed in, as if on cue. “I think I’m going to pass on this course. It’s simply too…”

“What? Green?” Geoffrey chided.

“I do not like green eggs and ham,” Gavin comically burst out. Guiding our attention toward Bethany’s date, sitting next to him, he added, “I dare you to finish that sentence, Sam.”

Sam snickered and shook his head. “Nah, Man. You don’t need a sidekick. You’re doing great all on your own.” He jabbed Gavin in the side and nodded toward me. “However, if you’re wanting to add to your act, I’d be looking at keeping this pretty gal as your assistant. She’s makin’ ya look pretty good tonight.” Sam’s eyes twinkled as he spoke.

“Thank you, Sam. You clean up pretty well yourself,” I reciprocated.

Gavin’s eyes drank in the moment, his focus resting on my lips. He lowered his voice as he leaned toward me. “It’s nice seeing you smile. You light up a room when you’re happy.”

“Well, it helps to have good entertainment,” I deflected.

Giving Gavin a hearty pat on the back, Sam leaned my direction. “We’re expecting you to keep this guy in line tonight,” he teased. “Seems he’s taken a liking to you. Maybe you can use that as leverage.”

I eyed Gavin and cheerfully played along. “I can’t promise anything. You know Gavin.”

Sam let out an animated laugh. “Yeah. We all know Gavin. He just hasn’t found the right girl, yet.”

Gavin returned Sam’s nudge and smiled at me. “Yeah, but things may be turning around,” he predicted with an air of confidence. Staring into my eyes, Gavin searched for mutual feelings.

I returned Gavin’s unspoken question with an amused smile. “Maybe they are.”