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Dear Adam,

Do you want to go with me?

 

Yes

No

 

 

Go where?

 

In a different time or place, the first love letter I ever received may have read something more coherent like “go out” or “go steady”, but in my 5th grade class, the verbiage was simply “go”. He wants to “go” with her… they’re “going” together… these phrases meant true love, not merely a pleasant afternoon excursion.

 

Unfortunately, I was more than a little introverted during these years …my social life bordered on autism… so I wasn’t exactly hip with the slang of the age. Something seemed grammatically off-center about the whole note, and it bothered me. Oh sure, I could deduce what she meant, and that was scary enough. But it seemed like an important decision, and she had it boiled down to a single, incomplete predicate and a couple check-boxes.

 

Peggy handed me the note as I passed the coat closet on my way to the bathroom. Peggy was fairly new in our class, having only been in our school a couple months. I can’t recall ever having heard her speak… and (as I’m sure you’ve figured out by now) she sure as hell hadn’t heard much from me. Maybe once in a great while.. when a teacher called upon me (involuntarily) to answer a question. But neither the product of 8 & 7, nor the site of Napoleon’s defeat hardly seem anything to get worked up over (she must have wanted me for my spindly, scrawny 12 year old body). Frankly, it surprised me that anyone would notice me.

 

I should have replied “No”. I hadn’t even noticed her until now, I knew nothing about her except that her name was Peggy… and sure, I could have picked her out in a lineup, but otherwise… zip. I wasn’t interested. In fact, I’d had a bit of a crush on Amy for about a year by that time. And though I wasn’t planning to do anything about this infatuation, becoming Peggy’s boyfriend would put a terrible kink in the fantasy.

 

But still, I admired Peggy’s courage. I certainly didn’t have the guts to even write such a letter, let alone actually give it to the object of my affection. She’d put herself on the line, and I knew I held her pride in my hand. I didn’t have the heart to turn her down. So I did nothing at all. I didn’t check either box, and hoped that if I left it alone it would go away.

 

Peggy wouldn’t be stopped though. A week after the note was delivered, our class was having a small party in which I couldn’t participate because I’d fallen behind on my lessons. My teacher gently let me know that I’d have to sit out in the hall and catch up on my academics. (I didn’t mind so much… reading in the hall seemed more comfortable than socializing.) Peggy, looking for another opportune moment, DIDN’T TURN IN HER HOMEWORK so that she could have another moment alone with me!

 

I knew I was in trouble when she walked out the door.

 

“Did you read my note?”

 

I nodded.

 

“What’s your answer?”

 

Wow. She cut right to it. I was on the spot, I had but a moment to think of a way to let her down easy. How could I get out of this without hurting her feelings? I knew of only one way… I nodded.

 

“Yes?” she asked.

 

“Yeah,” I said… “okay.”

 

A moment later, Adela walked into the hall… she needed study time too. Peggy told her the “good” news. “We’re going together!”

 

It was official.

 

That night, shortly before dinner, my mother answered the phone and told me the call was for me. I rarely got calls.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hi Adam, it’s Peggy!” She must have looked me up in the book. This was bad. I had hoped the boyfriend thing was just an honorary title, but now she clearly expected me to participate. I had to actually talk to her.

 

Fortunately, she was able to carry the conversation more or less without me. Suddenly this girl, who I hadn’t heard two words from before this day, was rambling on in a rapid succession of words. I didn’t know what she was saying… I was too panicked for that… but I was able to decipher when she finished a sentence, a necessary que for some sort of agreement from me, and that seemed good enough.

 

Then suddenly, as if my nerves weren’t already shot, a third party giggled into the phone.

 

“CHRIS, GET OF THE PHONE!!!” Peggy yelled. I winced. “OHHH! It’s my little brother!”

 

“Peggy’s got a boyfriend! Peggy’s got a boyfriend!” Chris started chanting.

 

“CHRIS! SHUT UP!!! Adam, I’ve got to go! I LOVE YOU!” She hung up.

 

What the fuck?

 

In a daze, I hung up the phone. I felt shell-shocked.

 

My family was naturally curious who this girl was that I was talking to, and I explained to them about my girlfriend. My mother took it very well, she was excited for me… She probably was happy that I was coming out of my shell, or perhaps she was glad to discover that I wasn’t gay. My older brother, on the other hand, without knowing its recent history, began a startling rendition of Chris’s chant: “Adam’s got a girlfriend! Adam’s got a girlfriend!”

 

“MATT! SHUT UP!!”

 

I can’t say how our romance progressed for Peggy, but for me, it didn’t really progress at all. Peggy was already declaring love, and certainly wanted something from me. But for my part, I stayed the course at my monosyllabic end of the conversation. She called me nearly every night. The conversations always ended with her screaming at her brother and shouting her affection for me as she was running off, presumably to beat him.

 

At school, I was safe until recess. I was something of a “Wall Ball” all-star (think racquet ball, but with a large rubber ball & no racquets). I wasn’t the best player, but I wasn’t far off. But on the occasion, when I lost a round and had to wait in line for my turn to come around again. Peggy would run up & grab my hand and pull me off to whatever game she was playing with her friends… often “tag” or “hide & seek”. She found several cozy hideouts for us, which left us in close confines and often face to face, but I never seized the moment.

 

Sincerity has always been one of my defining attributes. I’ll joke around, of course, but when I say something seriously, I mean it with all my heart (dating someone in whom I wasn’t interested, notwithstanding). It was this quality which left me so awkward with my various romantic prospects… A pre-teen shouldn’t worry so much about seriously committing to someone, but I wasn’t about to kiss her or tell her I loved her unless I was prepared to truly go the distance.

 

Peggy must have sensed this. Only a month or so into our courtship, she called me on the verge of tears. “It’s over, isn’t it?” I’m not kidding, she really said this.

 

In my own defense, my behavior had remained consistent since the beginning of the relationship. I don’t know why it suddenly occurred to her that I was unhappy. But here I was, with her handing the end of our awkward love to me on a silver platter. The damage was done, I’d already hurt her, though I wasn’t sure how… and God only knows how much effort it would take to keep it going. So I got out of our love using the same words I used to get myself into it.

 

“Yeah… Okay”.

 

She hung up.

 

The next day at school, she still had red eyes. I felt terrible. I had never really hurt someone like this before… Sure, I’d embarrassed Connie, but I didn’t believe that she actually felt anything for me in our one-day romance. And to think, the only reason I went out with Peggy in the first place was to avoid hurting her feelings.

 

It wasn’t long after this that her family moved again. I was starting to get a complex. First, Connie moved shortly after our horrible afternoon journey, now Peggy was taking off. I imagined these poor girls going home to their families and telling their horrible tales. Their parents would reply: “he did what?!?! C’mon, get your things packed!”

 

But the guilt was certainly less acute without her in the classroom… I started thinking of Amy again… maybe it was time for me to take action. But how? Maybe a note? I doesn’t have to be eloquent… just ask her straight out, does she want to go with me? I know! Maybe include check boxes for a convenient reply.

 

I never did write the note to Amy though. She moved.

 

Part 1 • Part 3 • Part 4