Mixed with my admiration for the bird's beauty I couldn't help but feel a pang of envy. I wondered what it would be like to be a bird, beautiful and free, soaring above all the dirt and ugliness below. For a brief, ecstatic moment I was caught up in the fantasy of flight, seeing myself as a graceful, swooping bird… a confident, capable, glorious bird. Then, like a sword slashing into and fragmenting my little daydream, I heard high-pitched giggles coming towards me.
Three girls I knew, but whom I had never talked to, were sitting on a bench not more than fifteen feet behind me. I had no idea how long they'd been there, watching me, but my pale face flamed and I felt sick inside. I'd come to this part of the park three blocks from school every day for a month now, sure that at last I'd found a place where I could have lunch in peace. I was painfully shy, and I'd never been able to relate well with kids my age. I did fine with older people, but I was a big dud with my peers.
The girls were talking and giggling about me. I felt sure of it. True, there were times I imagined people were talking and laughing at me, but this time I knew it was more than my paranoia. Damning myself for the deep blush I knew was all over my face, I turned back to my sandwich and pretended not to notice the girls.
The food stuck, in my throat, and for a sickening moment I thought I would have to cough it up. Blindly I reached for my carton of milk and took a quick sip. But my hand was shaking, and I swallowed too fast. A thin trickle of milk ran from the corner of my mouth, down my chin and dribbled onto my blouse. I could have cried.
The giggles increased as I turned away to fix myself up. In a way, what had happened was a capsule performance of my entire life. That was me, the odd man out, the hopelessly strange one, the natural-born loser.
It was even obvious in my looks, in a strange sort of way. Oh, I'm not one of those homely girls who are shaped like a box and covered with pimples. In fact, I'm even sort of pretty in a way. And, safe in my room; naked, in front of a full mirror, I'm even beautiful. But when I'm around others, well… I just get all tight inside and everything goes all wrong. It's always been that way for me, even when I was a little girl. The only kids who would be my friend were the boxy, pimply ones, so I learned to enjoy being alone a long time ago.
At that moment if there was anything in the world I would have changed, it would have been to get rid of those girls. Instead they stayed where they were, giggling and talking, and I thought my face would turn to stone in my effort to ignore them. Then I realized one of the girls was coming towards me.
"Hi, Fran. Mind if I talk to you a minute!" The girl brushed at her skirt, sat down next to me and gave me a bright grin.
I hardly knew what to say. The girl at my side was Gerry, one of the most popular girls in school. I didn't even know she knew my name. I sort of shrugged.
Gerry looked over her shoulder at the other two, then turned her dark eyes on me. She hesitated while she openly looked me over as if I were a new coat she was considering taking home with her. "You could be groovy looking with a little makeup, Fran. And maybe if your clothing was a little more mod…"
I flashed on my mother sprinting me around getting new clothing, mod clothing… In a family where I was one of eight kids, and where a father and a paycheck only came by on rare occasions, I was glad to be wearing anything. But I didn't even consider throwing that at Gerry. I was still having trouble swallowing the rest of the sandwich.
The blonde girl seemed to lose interest in what I was wearing. She motioned for her friends to join her. Suddenly she was all business. "Look, Fran, I'm sort of in a jam. I promised to get a girl for the big pre-graduation party the boys are having. I think it's the new boy, Hank, who needs the date. The thing is, I promised to find a girl, but I already have a date and so does everyone else for the party. I was wondering if you could help us out. I'd really appreciate it. I'd just die if I had to let them down…"
I knew about the party. The football team and a few of the other popular boys had a sort of club, and they were throwing a party that night, a week before graduation. It was going to be at the old H. house, and only the handful of loser kids like myself would be missing it. But Gerry was telling me I didn't have to miss it…
I was having trouble understanding Gerry. Why was she offering to fix me up with a date? It might be true, about having a hard time finding a girl this close to the party, hut why me? Only I couldn't bring myself to ask. "You want me to go out with Hank? To the party?"
She tossed back her hair and laughed. "Oh, be a sport, Fran. Do it. I'll even lend you a groovy dress, okay? Please? Look, you're absolutely the only girl left I can ask. All the others who don't have dates already are duds like Betty and Rita."
Betty and Rita were girls I went around with when the loneliness got to me. And both of them were obviously unattractive. In spite of myself I felt a pang of pleasure at being lifted out of their class. I found myself nodding.
The three girls grinned at each other, then Gerry hurriedly told me I was to come to her house at eight, and then they were off, mumbling something about the next class.
I watched them go, then turned back to the bird. But it was gone. I realized my heart was racing. A date! Me!
It wasn't as if I'd never gone out with a boy before. I had. I went with Larry most of the year before, and I'd also dated three other boys at school. But they were all outsiders, too, and somehow they didn't really count. Not like this.
I didn't kid myself about why I'd been asked. I was sure every girl who was at all decent had been asked first. But maybe, by some miracle, by some fantastic stroke of luck, Hank would like me. Maybe something in me would come out, and this would be the whole new start of my existence.
The day went quickly. I bumped into Larry in the hallway, and turned down his suggestion that we go to a movie the next weekend. Larry was sweet. He was very sweet. Maybe that was part of what was wrong with him. I sneaked a peek at some of the boys in Gerry's bunch, the ones I'd be with that very night. They were so different, with their arrogant walks and the cool way they looked everyone over. I felt a terrific excitement shoot through me as I glanced over at Hank, the new boy, the one Gerry thought would be my date.
After school I hurried home and found the apartment almost empty. I managed to work the ancient lock on the bathroom door and I gratefully slipped into a tub of hot, soapy water. Relaxing, I thought about Hank again.
He looked very sure of himself. He'd transferred from a neighboring school. There had been some trouble with a girl, but I wasn't sure what it was all about. He was tall and good looking, with thick muscles and a strong face. Closing my eyes, I lost myself in a little fantasy. Hank would like me. He would think I was pretty. He would put his arms around me, and then he would kiss me. Finally, he would rub himself against me and push me back against the bed…
I loved sexy fantasies. It was a thing I had. I knew a lot about sex. Not from personal experience, really, but because as a kid I'd managed to watch my patents do it a lot. We lived in a two-room apartment then, and I would sleep on a cot in their room. I'd pretend I was asleep sometimes. Once my father came in drunk and mean, and my mother was already in bed asleep. In the dark I managed to see him wake her up by reaching around and squeezing her soft breasts.
She woke up angry, but that didn't stop the old man. He continued to force his big hands under her gown. She soon stopped being angry and held still. Then he rolled over on top of her, and began to move between her legs. There was something about the way she didn't resist him at that point, the way she held her plump body still while he plunged in and out of her, that frightened yet excited me even as a child. Oh, I knew why she didn't resist him. I'd also been awake a few of the nights when she'd tried to keep him from riding her. He'd be drunk and demanding, and she'd fight him silently, but always he would force her down, laugh low in his throat, and mount her just the same.