For the first installment in this series, go here: Love and Dating Escapades #1: First Crush
When I was around thirteen years old, we moved from Springfield Missouri to West Valley City, Utah. For a newly blossoming teenager, Utah was like stepping into Willy Wonka's chocolate factory--if you replaced the candy with boys.
I wasn't horribly boy-crazy, meaning I didn't think about them every second of every day, but I had my fair share of crushes. I also kept to my no-dating-until-I-was-sixteen rule. I could have dated earlier, since my mom told me that she would let me choose. Smart thing for her to say, since she knew that I followed the rules to a fault. In fact, the first time I had ever heard of a "pity party" was one I was invited to by my fifteen-year-old friends who were missing MORP (prom spelled backwards, girls asked guys) held a couple of days before my sixteenth birthday. (We had a blast, especially since one of our friends was such a fluffy-headed gal that she thought potatoes came from some kind of animal. Seriously!)
When I was fourteen, one of the boys I had a big crush on was in my ward, an older brother of one of my guy friends. Scott was sixteen, and I was completely gaga. I knew there was no hope for us, since he treated me as a friend, and was dating the older sister of one of my friends. She was a sweet girl, cute and blonde. Talk about a triple threat--but she wasn't a threat since I wasn't even remotely in the picture.
Scott's family had an extra ticket to go see the Christmas Devotional at Temple Square, so his mom invited me to go. I adored his mother--she was both classy and fun. So, I went. I got to sit next to Scott, who I was all too aware of, and noticed that he put his hand on his girlfriend's knee during the devotional. She was still fifteen. After the devotional was over, sometime in the next few days Scott's mother asked me if I thought what her son did was appropriate. I told her "no", and she agreed with me. I wondered why she asked me. Maybe to find out how I felt about being the third wheel on the pew.
Ah, the sweet innocence of youth.
For some reason though, Scott and his girlfriend were extra nice to me. I loved to dance, so they invited me to go over to her house so they could teach me to swing dance. Since Scott lived right by me and she lived about a mile away, so he offered to pick me up.
I was so excited! It would be my first time riding in a car with a boy.
When I only had around ten minutes before he was supposed to arrive, I couldn't stand the anticipation anymore--I went outside to wait in front of the carport. I walked around, grasshoppers jumping in my stomach. Then the unthinkable happened, about two minutes before my watch said he should be there.
I don't know what I had eaten the night before, but I'm guessing it was the equivalent of a big batch of homemade, unsoaked, fully cooked pinto beans. I was a pressure cooker that had nearly reached its limit. I didn't need a bathroom, but I did need a quiet space where no one would visit for a few minutes.
I thought about waiting, but decided not to. Wait and then what? Try to sit tight in the car and hope a bump in the road didn't prove my undoing? Wait until we got to her house, then run to the bathroom and risk someone hearing or invisible trails following me out? No, that wouldn't do at all.
So I quickly ran to the back of the carport and...well, you fill in the blanks.
When the strength and caliber of what had just transpired hit my nostrils, relief flooded me head to foot. Thank goodness I didn't wait! I turned to walk back up to the front of the carport--and froze.
Scott had just arrived, and was coming up the driveway on his bike. No car, no air-conditioned windows separating him from the air in my yard. I was confused, disappointed, and horrified all at the same time.
I flew into full-on panic mode. This can't be happening. Oh please, please don't come any closer!
I walked over to meet him, hoping to stop him before he hit the invisible wall. He smiled his gorgeous smile and said, "I couldn't take the car because...(insert reason I forgot here)...so I thought we could ride our bikes."
Recovering at the speed of light, I nodded. Anything to get us out of there as soon as humanly possible! "Sure, that'll be fine."
I hurried to the carport post where my bike was chained. Please, oh please don't follow me!
What was I supposed to say? "Um, I'm sorry, you have to stay there because I just proved how much of a lady I am not!" Right. Totally uncool. So I tried to get my bike loose as fast as I could. My fingers turned to thumbs as I fumbled, but I finally got it and pulled my bike up to where Scott had stopped, a few feet from me.
I swung onto the bicycle and we set off.
I will never forget what a great guy Scott was. Not only did he pretend to ignore the noxious cloud hanging in my yard (I guess he could have not noticed, but I doubt it!), but on my birthday he took my bike and put new tires on it. I had wondered about the lame excuse he gave me for needing to borrow it the day before.
His mother raised him well.