Diary Friday: “He said, ‘I am going to terrorize you.'”

Yet another journal entry from my feverish junior year of high school, when I was madly in love, across a crowded room, with a senior named “D”.

MARCH

My life is getting odder by the moment. I don’t know what to make of it anymore. It used to be easy to see what was happening around me and think, “Hey, I get this.” But now —

Academically, things are peachy keen [Wow. Time-travel language used unironically], but around me – I’m in a whirlwind – or everyone around me is in a whirlwind and I’m standing there like a doof. [I completely do not understand what is going on, Sheila.] Okay — enough with the analogous stuff. I’m still really spacey. I came home from school today and fell asleep on the couch and I just woke up, so I feel blurry and out of it.

I’ll start from the beginning. OhmyGod. [That “Oh my God” is written in microscopically tiny letters. Perhaps to connote my depth of emotion.]

Today was a bowling day. It seems centuries ago! We went into the gym. He wasn’t there. [In my junior year, there is only person “he” could mean. Only one “he” for me. Even then, I was a one-man woman.] I always get panicky, like: “Oh no! He’s not here!” I like doing that because when he does come in, my heart does a little skip and a jump. [In other words, you’re a masochist.] Walking down to bowling was fun. Nick and someone were walking in front of D. and Dale and J. and I were behind them. Kate was behind us, hissing, “Go … Go …”

(At this point I feel like I have jet lag. That nap screwed me up.)

Anyway, I bowled with April and we were right beside D. and Dale. Of course that was fun. D. was competing with Hank [Enough with the one-syllable names … Jesus.] and D. was losing, so of course he was all mad. Boys take sports so seriously. It’s a riot. [hahahahaha]

D. said to me, “I guess I’m not a pressure bowler.” It’s so hilarious – how serious he gets about BOWLING. Dale is not too great a bowler. And D. is always sort of coaching him, but it doesn’t work. I’ll be up there bowling and I’ll see Dale’s ball start to roll. Then I can hear D. going, “There it is! There it is!” But somehow, it is never there, and Dale just goes back to sit down. It strikes me as hysterical. So I was sitting with D. at the little desk and Dale bowled. Of course, D. started saying, “There it is! There it is!” And the ball knocked over about 3 pins. Then, as D. marked it down, he said to himself, “There it was.” I think he was pleased with the screech of appreciative laughter from me.

After bowling (I got a 93), we started walking back. I was walking with April and D. and Dale were always behind us. And I heard D. saying to Dale, “On the whole, it was really good. At some points, it was a little slow, but –” Then he saw April and I grinning at him over our shoulders. “I wonder what you are talking about,” I said.

Then we were walking together, the 4 of us. D. critiqued parts of the show [He’s really annoying me, now that I remember all of this. What a know-it-all.] He said to me, “Your singing was excellent.” EXCELLENT. He said excellent. I said, “Thank you.” I was quite the thrilled. QUITE.

Then he said, “And the flute duet was really good.” (That was April and J.) “And that Pepsi Light skit was well-written, well-acted …” He grinned. “I felt like I was this kind of adjudicator or something.” [Yeah, well who asked you to adjudicate, you superior smug jackass? Why don’t you just try sitting back and enjoying the show, as opposed to keeping a checklist in your mind?? Why did I love this person?]

Suddenly, J. was yelling from behind us, “Peter, what’s the matter?”

I noticed that he was walking along alone, way ahead of us. J. started laughing, and yelled, “Just because you got a 49–”

I added, “You should be with people at a time like this!”

Peter sort of cowered behind a telephone pole and D. said, “He’s the only person I know who can successfully hide behind a telephone pole.”

[Okay, I am laughing out loud. That is pretty funny. Peter was a great guy.]

Back at the gym, we had about 10 minutes, as usual. I sat next to April, she was working on Math, so we didn’t talk. I just sat quietly and vegged. D. was all the way down at the other end of the bleachers. At one point, he went back into the boys locker room for a while. When he came out, he picked up his books and started walking … [Sheila, please stop staring at him from across the gym. It’s creepy.] And I just knew he was about to sit next to me, and as he came by me, and sat down, he said, “I am going to terrorize you.”

Now, I ask you – What was I supposed to say? I can’t even remember my reaction. I’m sure I said, “What?” I remember being very aware of April, beside D. She was listening through the whole thing, just dying.

He kept talking, saying, “I am gonna call you up in the middle of the night. And peek out at you from behind telephone poles. Don’t wash your hair, because when you open your eyes, I’ll be there.” Then he said, “No matter where you go, I’ll be watching you.”

[WTF??? I have no memory of this.]

He said this all in a very light tone, but you don’t just go around and say these things to people. [Yeah, you’d think …] You just don’t, and if you do, then you are POND SCUM.

What was he talking about? What was he talking about? He is so strange, and I cannot figure him out.

At that appropriate moment, the bell rang, leaving me sitting there like a geek, jaw hanging open, thinking, “What was that?” I just got up in a daze and started walking. I looked around for my friends. April looked at me and then came zooming over. I needed someone to prop me up at that point. She was going, “Sheila. OH MY GOD, I was just sitting there in absolute shock.”

“You were?! April, this is the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to me – OH my God – Did you hear what he said?”

“YES!” Suddenly, J. and Kate were around me going, “What? What?” But I just covered my face and said, “I cannot believe this.” For the next 2 periods, my mind was in a blank. I don’t know what to think.

After Chemistry, I was going up the stairs, and I saw April. I called to her, and she looked over at me. I said, “April … I still can’t believe …” She was still in a state of shock. [I love how this whole thing degenerated into a GROUP event.] I told you that with my friends all our feelings are shared, even if the others aren’t going through it. April was saying to me, “I couldn’t understand why you weren’t sexually molesting him!”

Nothing really happened in French. We’re reading Le Petit Prince, which I love. The book makes me cry. Today though, school was past my notice.

D. – I’m sorry, but you just don’t go around saying things like that to people!

In English, April presented me with her theory which I’ve accepted. [This is hilarious. This is STILL how my girlfriends and I hash out our problems.] She came in and said, “I think D. has trouble with concrete statements. He can’t deal with what is going on straight out. Like he couldn’t just say, ‘I really like you’ – so he says those – abstract things …” At this point, we both burst out laughing. Abstract! “Don’t wash your hair”????

In English we went to the library for research. J., Kate and I sat together, and of course we discussed boys. In lunch today, Nick came over to J. and said, “Your eyes don’t deceive you.” (Not “deceive me“). So we were talking about that and what the hell it might mean. There is a hidden meaning there! Like — what you think is going on is going on. Trust your instincts. I think that’s wicked that he said that. [Ha! “Wicked”!!!] Very deep.

I then said, “Why can’t mine be deep? I mean, yours talks about eyes, mine talks about telephone booths.”

We all just exploded into laughter.

So that’s my day.

I have grown so close to Anne this year, and I’m glad. We wrote a few skits for SK Pades. She has really got it together. She said to me, (I love this) “Anyone who reaches the peak of their social status in high school has got something wrong with them.” Anyway, she’s a great kid to confide in. After school, she comes up to me saying, “What’s this I hear?”

Unless I’m totally off my spool, which I don’t think I am … I’m practically convinced he likes me. [In this case, Sheila, your eyes DO deceive you.] I mean, that doesn’t make anything easier. I’m still scared to death to do anything.

There’s a sockhop on Friday. [What is this, “Happy Days”?] I am so petrified of looking stupid. I don’t want him to scorn me. I don’t think he will, but – see what I’m saying? [Actually, no, I don’t. You know why? Because you haven’t really SAID anything for me to “see”.] Just knowing that I don’t think he’d laugh in my face doesn’t ease the burden.

I had a dream that Kate made me call him up and ask him out. And I did. And he was so nice. He was laughing at himself and saying, “I think it’s about time I took some initiative here.”

Anne said to me, “He’s dying for you to ask him.”

But then I think – why doesn’t he ask me? Isn’t the situation obvious enough? He has to know I like him. I’m dying for him to ask me.

I don’t know what to do.