Amy was one of those extremely cute high school girls who was irresistible yet agonizingly out of reach to the "regular" guys in the crowd. You know the type. So beautiful that you get an upset stomach when you get close to her. A good upset stomach. But an upset stomach of the kind never felt if you are over the age of 18. It was a feeling of exclusion. Exclusion form the pretty girl club. A fear that a girl that beautiful could never have a second thought for any guy not on the proverbial football team. Interestingly, after years of feeling this exclusion, I find out she was just as scared as all the the guys and always wondered why the guys were scared of her. So a side note to current high schoolers.... that feeling does feel like a big deal because it is but don't let it make you retreat into the world of shyness. Just ask. If you never ask you will never know. And know this. The person you want to ask is as scared as you are. So just ask. OK...enough of the lecture.
I was actually friendly with Amy as she was in a lot of my classes but never more then that. Of, course, I wanted more but was too chicken to ask her out or talk to her about anything beyond dull schoolwork talk. See above advice.
So as usual in a suburb like Concord MA, us kids were thrust into all sorts of extracurricular activities such as sports, church stuff, and...yes...yes, dance class. I guess our parents thought it crucial that we learn things like the fox trot and the waltz so we could dance fancy at weddings.
So we have this class. The guys sit on one side, the girls on the other. When the instructor calls for a dance, you have to choose your girl based on the order in which you sit. So you pray to God that you don't get the fat wallflower or some girl you have just broken up with for some stupid high school reason. You stand in front of this girl with your heart pounding either because the girl is hideous or you are dying to have sex with her. Either way, that last thing on your mind is dancing.
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