Chapter 30: Sadie Hawkins Day

November 1978

Friday wasn’t a good day. The story of Melanie’s accident swept through the school. I didn’t hear any rumors of suicide, which made me feel a bit better. After my second period class, I went to the pay phone and called the number at the hospital that Mrs. Spencer had given me. They called her to the phone, and she told me that Melanie was doing better and that she was awake.

Mrs. Spencer told me that they planned to move Melanie out of the ICU late Friday if there were no complications. Melanie woulds be able to have visitors on Saturday for a limited amount of time. I let Mrs. Spencer know that Pete, Jennifer, and I would visit Melanie on Saturday afternoon. I asked her to call me this afternoon between 4:00pm and 4:30pm to let me know how Melanie was. She said she would.

The day actually seemed to fly by. I was surprised by that, but then realized I wasn’t really anticipating the dance. I didn’t know Cassie that well, so wasn’t sure what to expect. Jennifer seemed to think something might happen, but I assumed my usual attitude of expecting nothing and being grateful for anything. Adding in Melanie’s situation, and I just wasn’t really looking forward to it. I had given my word, and I always kept my commitments — I’d go.

When I got home, I swam as usual and then showered and got dressed for the dance. I was ready early because I wanted to be by the phone from 4:00pm to 4:30pm for Mrs. Spencers’ call. At about 4:15pm the phone rang. I answered, and it was Mrs. Spencer, as I had hoped.

“Hi, Steve. She’s being moved out of ICU now into a private room. She’ll still have all kinds of monitoring equipment and IVs, but she’ll be able to see you for about five minutes. I think we’ll be able to get Pete in to see her for the same amount of time. I told them you were her boyfriend, I hope that’s OK.”

“If that’s what it takes, but I’m hoping Pete fills that spot again.”

“Me too,” she said. “I know you and Melanie had some kind of falling out, she wouldn’t talk to me about it. But she did tell me today that you got Pete to call her. You’re a good friend to her, Steve. It’s too bad that you and Melanie never really were in love, you would have made a great partner for her.”

Except we were. And that was actually the source of the problem.

“Thanks, Mrs. Spencer. Can you tell me about her injuries?”

“A broken arm, a broken leg, a concussion, and four cracked ribs. It was the concussion that had them worried, but she seems to be OK now. The other stuff would always heal, but she was unconscious for quite some time and they were concerned. When she came out of it, she seemed fine, though she still has some symptoms. She has a long way to go to recover.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Spencer. We’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”

I hung up and dialed Andreas. He suggested I take the day off because he had already made arrangements for the rounds I had been making. He said me he’d see me next Saturday.

A couple of minutes before 4:30pm a yellow, four-door Plymouth Fury, which looked as big as a boat, docked in our driveway. It looked to be about eight years old by the body style. I assumed it was Cassie, so I walked out to meet her. She motioned me to hop in, so I got in the passenger seat.

Cassie was wearing a white peasant blouse with large black polka-dots in the style of Daisy May from Li’l Abner. She had on a short skirt of the same style, but leggings to keep her warm. She looked pretty good, with the blouse showing off her figure. Her conservative style had hidden nicely shaped and sized breasts and a slim waist. In that way, she reminded me of Mary, who also hid her curves at school.

“Hi, Steve! Ready for some fun?”

“Sure! What’s the plan?”

“Dinner and dancing, of course,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.

“Where are we going for dinner?”

“TGI Friday’s at the Tri-County mall. We have just enough time to get there, eat, and get back before the dance starts.”

While she drove, we chatted and started to get to know each other. She had two older brothers who had already graduated. They lived in a small subdivision off Route 131 just before Wolfpen-Pleasant Hill Road, the road the High School was on. Her dad was an engineer at General Electric’s Aircraft Engines Division, where one of my uncles worked. My grandfather had worked there for a time as well, and my mom had been a secretary there in the 1950s, before she met my dad. Cassie’s mom was a homemaker and was president of the PTA.

Cassie said she was planning to go to college and wanted to be an elementary school teacher. With her grades being similar to mine, I suspected she would have no trouble getting into college. And her personality seemed like it fit a teacher. Of course, how she dealt with boys my age was going to be different from how she would deal with first through fifth graders. I decided I liked her and felt she could be a friend.

Dinner was fun. I had Chicken Fried Steak with country gravy, spicy French fries, and a salad with Gorgonzola dressing. Cassie had mushroom steak with mushrooms, mashed potatoes, and a salad with Italian dressing. We opted to skip dessert to save time. There was always Graeter’s after the dance if we wanted.

We drove back to the school for the dance. Even with skipping dessert, we arrived about 15 minutes after the dance had started. Cassie didn’t seem concerned, so I didn’t say anything. She took off her leggings, and we quickly walked into the school and then into the gym. We found a table and dropped our coats across a couple of chairs. Just as we did that, I saw Mary with Ben and noticed two seats at her table, so I asked Cassie if we could move there.

Mary squealed and hugged me. I shook Ben’s hand, and we exchanged a look that expressed my gratitude for him lending me his girlfriend for perhaps the wildest day I would ever have. I knew nothing would ever be said out loud, but the handshake and the look said it all. I introduced Cassie and Mary asked immediately if she could dance with me later. Cassie readily agreed and said she’d be happy to dance with Ben when Mary and I danced.

As we finished that conversation, the DJ played Copacabana by Barry Manilow and Cassie grabbed my hand to dance. Fortunately, dancing with Joyce had helped me improve my abilities to the point where I no longer looked like a spastic clown. I’d never win any dance contents, but at least I could manage to not look dumb.

The next song was The Name of the Game by ABBA, which was the song that Birgit had quoted in her last letter to me. I couldn’t handle it, so I excused myself to use the boys’ bathroom.

_Your smile and the sound of your voice
And the way you see through me
Got a feeling, you give me no choice
But it means a lot to me;_

Mary must have known that the song affected me because she followed me into the hallway and stopped me before I got into the men’s room.

“You OK, Steve? I saw a horrible look cross your face.”

“It’s this song,” I said, with tears running down my face. “Birgit wrote me a last letter that she hadn’t mailed before she died. She quoted this song to me.”

“Oh my God!” Mary gasped. “OK. Go get calmed down. I can talk to Cassie, OK?”

“Thanks, Mary.”

I took my time because I had to let that song finish before I could even think about going back into the gym. I got some strange looks from a couple of the guys but then Ralph came into the restroom and said that Mary had sent him to make sure I was OK. He stayed until I was calmed down enough to wash my face and go back to the gym.

When I got back, it was clear Mary had explained everything to Cassie.

She came up to me and hugged me and said, “I’m sorry about Birgit. I remember her. I didn’t know you guys were involved. Are you going to be OK?”

“Yeah, I think so; thanks. It’s just hard sometimes. And that song has very special meaning.”

“It’s OK. Do you want to go?”

I did, but I also didn’t. Leaving would hurt Cassie and besides, all I would do is think about Melanie and Birgit all night and drive myself crazy.

“No, let’s dance. Please don’t let this spoil our evening.”

“Thanks,” she said.

We danced to Disco Inferno by the Tramps. I was feeling better and dancing seemed to help. I realized any song but The Name of the Game or Love Isn’t Easy (But It Sure Is Hard Enough) would have been fine. But those two I felt would always bring me to tears. Of course, my mind was wandering again. I needed to get my focus back on Cassie, at least for the next few hours.

Mary’s timing was uncanny. When she asked Cassie to switch dance partners, the DJ put on When You’re In Love With a Beautiful Woman. Needless to say, Mary plastered herself to me in her usual way. Ben and Cassie were dancing in the hands-on-shoulders-and-hips style and Cassie was looking at us a bit oddly. I saw Ben lean in to whisper in her ear, and she nodded and smiled.

“I see you still like me, Steve!” she giggled.

“Are you kidding? I know this body inside and out. Not to mention a crazy day when you and two other girls tried to kill me with sex. I owe your boyfriend big-time for that.”

“Don’t worry. He got a similar treatment. It didn’t get anywhere near as crazy, and he didn’t do as well as you did, but I don’t know anyone who can!”

“You’re bad, Mary!”

“You know it! And I’ll tell you a secret. I started letting Ben fuck me without rubbers. You and I are done, and I just had to have it!”

I laughed, “Thanks for finally admitting we’re done. You and Ben make a great couple.”

“We do. And you’re right. I’m exclusive with him and he with me, now that we got the threesome out of our system.”

“Mary Harrison, what’s gotten into you?”

“Ben, repeatedly!” she giggled.

“Same old Mary!”

“No, if I were the same old Mary, I’d take you somewhere and fuck your brains out. Dancing with you has me so hot I can’t stand it.”

“Ben will have to suffice!” I said with a laugh.

“Oh poo!”

We both laughed. The song ended, and we went back to the table where Ben and Cassie joined us.

“Cassie, did Ben tell you that Mary and I have a history?”

“He did. He also said that it was over and that you were absolutely trustworthy. You could dance with his date like that and he was not worried at all.”

“Ben’s a good guy,” I said.

“And Steve’s a VERY good guy, if you get my drift,” Mary said.

“Mary, behave!” I said.

“Oh poo!”

All four of us laughed.

We danced more with our own partners. The third to last song was an ABBA song, this time Take a Chance on Me. It was one that I had played from the Album that Birgit had told me to get, but it didn’t hold the meaning of the other two.

The second to last song was Sometimes When We Touch by Dan Hill. Cassie stepped into my arms and put her head on my shoulder in almost the same position as Mary. Her body felt good against mine and I willed myself not to get hard. I was successful.

The last song was Hopelessly Devoted to You by Olivia Newton-John. Cassie pressed herself against me as tightly as she could. About halfway through the song, Cassie moved her head and looked me straight in the eyes. It was clear she wanted a kiss, so I kissed her softly on the lips. That was enough to send blood rushing to a place I really didn’t want it at that moment, but over which I no longer had control. Cassie smirked.

She whispered, “I hear that you dance better lying down than you do standing up.”

“Where did you hear such a scurrilous rumor?” I whispered back, but in a way that made it teasing, rather than serious.

“Oh, around. So, do you?”

“I’m only a mediocre dancer, so the comparison might not be a good one.”

“Not what I hear! Want to go parking with me?”

Parking. Here I was, fifteen, with more than a dozen different lovers, and I had never once even made out in a car, let alone had sex. I wasn’t assuming anything, but I was pretty sure that’s what she wanted.

“Sounds like fun, Cassie! Let’s do it!”

She pulled me tight and ground herself against my erection. That seemed to confirm what she wanted, but I was always aware of limits.

The song ended, and we said our goodbyes to Mary and Ben and headed out to her car. Mary winked at me. I just smiled and shook my head.

As we were pulling out of the parking lot, Cassie said, “I’m not the only one who has heard those rumors, by the way. Why do you think Janet Owens, regarded as the best lay in the school, asked you to the dance?”

I laughed, “Well, despite having a reputation for being a lot of fun, or as you put it, ‘a great lay’, she’s also an airhead. Totally not my type.”

“Wait a minute! You would turn down sex with the best lay in the school because she’s not intellectual enough? Is there something seriously wrong with you I should know about?”

The tone was light, not accusatory, so I answered back in a similar fashion.

“Well, first of all, she’s NOT the best lay in the school. I know who is, but I’m keeping that knowledge to myself because I don’t want the information to get out. In fact, I know who the three best lays in the school are, and she isn’t likely to displace anyone in the top three. Second, even the best guy can only screw for so long. Eventually you have to talk, and I cannot deal with airheads. It’s a turn-off.”