Chapter 2: High School: Things get interesting

There is nothing quite like the first day of high school. Okay, later in life college and the first interview for a real job might come close. Fast food and video game attendant don't count. I mean like, interviewing for your new job in a legal office.

Yeah, the first day of high school is, well, horrible! I mean, it's cool; you're hot stuff now, in the big leagues. New school, new teachers, real classes, girls... oh yeah, girls. Big girls, with like, big girl parts and tight jeans and makeup, and really short skirts! Yeah baby! And then there are the really big dudes, with the really big muscles, who look like they want to kill you just for noticing the girls. And the teachers, who look as if they are positively ecstatic to be sitting behind the little tables, in front of all the long lines of students trying to get into their classes. Oh, and they just love the freshmen who have no idea what they are doing. The wonderful feeling you get when you finally get to the front of the line, only to discover that it's the wrong line.

But I had a plan. That only lasted until about the second line. That's when I found out that freshman don't actually get "free period." Sorry, juniors and seniors only. The only exception made for underclassmen was for returning sophomores enrolled in specific classes, and required permission slips signed by both their parents and their guidance counselors.

As a freshman I only got one elective class. Most of the guys went for things like wood shop or auto shop. Not me, the one thing I wanted more than anything was to get into psychology. This really cracked up my friends. Mark thought it was hysterical.

"Dude, you're crazy! No way are you getting into psychology. That's like one of those cake classes that the seniors take so they can goof off and get an easy grade. No way are you going to get in. The list must be like a mile long."

Unfortunately, he was right. There were only two psychology classes that I could possibly get into no matter how I juggled my schedule and not only were they full but they had waiting lists. But I stuck it out anyway. Stood in the line and waited my turn to put my name on the list. The teacher, Mr. Shelby, wasn't even there anymore.

I asked one of the other teachers if they knew where he was and she politely pointed him out coming back across the auditorium. Her name was Miss Swann and was she hot! Can you say babe? Guys were lining up just to get close to her. Of course when you got to the front of the line and found out that she taught Sociology and Art it weeded out most of the lookers. I lucked out later when my Social Studies teacher went on maternity leave. Miss Swann took over her class for the rest of the year and I found out that she is really an awesome teacher.

Mr. Shelby was slowly walking back across the auditorium from the water fountain. With all his classes full, I guessed he had needed a break from the throng of disappointed faces. Having nothing to lose I decided to talk to him.

"Excuse me, Mr. Shelby? My name is Edward Matthews." On a whim I stuck out my hand. "If you have a few minutes to spare, sir, I would like to talk to you about your class." (I'd gone through the whole JEM problem again in junior high and had since switched to J. Edward Matthews on any official paperwork I had to fill out. I discovered, as you will, that it didn't work. But hey, a guy's gotta try.)

He seemed shocked at first but smiled and shook my hand. "Mr. Matthews is it? Freshman?"

"Yes Sir, I don't want to keep you from anything if you're..."

"Slow down, Mr. Matthews." He interrupted, "I was just surprised at the very old fashion idea of a hand shake being part of an introduction."

"Sorry, Sir. I didn't mean to..."

"Slow down, Mr. Matthews," he interrupted again, "I didn't say I was offended. Actually I'm quite impressed. We don't get a lot of that around here. Not even from the staff, much less the students. You must be interested in my advanced class; you're already past the level most of my beginning students achieve from the whole first year. One year I spent an entire semester just trying to get the concept of first impressions past the second row. It was a dismal failure. It's rather refreshing to meet a young man who actually pays attention to social conventions."

"Thank you, sir. My dad has spent several summers trying to get the idea across to me. If you don't mind I'm supposed to ask you how my handshake was? But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about so we can skip it if you would rather not."

"Quite all right. Actually, it was a pretty good shake. A little tentative but that was probably due more to nervousness, the fact that our hands are quite different sizes and that I was a little too stunned to pay full attention. We'll try it again later. In fact, let's make an experiment out of it. Any time you happen to meet me in passing this year, shake my hand and say hello. I will try to pay more attention to the details and let you know how you are doing. Mostly I want to see if we can start a new trend. See how many of your fellow students jump on the bandwagon. If nothing else it should be a real kick to see the expressions on some of the faces when they see it for the first time. Now then, which class are you signed up for? I don't remember seeing you earlier."

"No sir, I'm on the waiting list for your 6^th period class, I have required stuff most of the rest of the day and it was full before I got there. What I wanted to ask you, sir, was if I could possibly talk to you about dreams?"

"Dreams?"

"Yes sir."

"Mr. Matthews... Edward, wasn't it? Do you prefer Edward, Ed or Eddie? Or do you perhaps have another nickname?"

"Any of those are fine, sir. I try to avoid nicknames. It's a long story." <<Please don't go there>> I thought to myself. There must have been something in my voice because he looked at me for a second before going on.

"Well, Mr. Edward Matthews," he said with a gleam in his eye and a definite smile on his face. "Something tells me there is an interesting story there but we'll leave that for another time. Dreams are a pretty deep subject and while we do touch on them in the beginning class, it's really just a passing glance. Is there some aspect of dreaming that you are interested in?"

"Yes sir, several things really: 'Cognitive' dreaming for one, non-Freudian interpretation of dreams and dream mechanisms, possible correlations between clairvoyance and dreaming, sleepwalking..."

His look cut me off. "Mr. Edwards," he began, "I can see you and I are going to be getting to know each other very well over the next four years. What period did you say you were trying to get in to?"

"Sixth period, sir. But it's already full."

"Welcome to sixth period Beginning Psychology, Mr. Edwards. I know, it says the class is full. Leave that to me. In fact, let's go take care of that right now shall we?" So saying he proceeded to lead me back to the registration table. Miss Swann was still there, surrounded by a throng of admirers trying their best to stare without her noticing. She looked up as Mr. Shelby approached the table.

"Hi, Bob, there was a young man, freshman I think looking for you. Oh, there you are," she said as I cleared the crowd. The crowd did an impressive vanishing act as soon as Mr. Shelby showed up. "I guess this means he found you."

"Ah, so you are to thank for our meeting. Susan, I owe you lunch," he said as he quickly looked through the list of names on his waiting lists for classes. "Actually, make that dinner. May I introduce you to Mr. J. Edward Matthews?" He stepped aside and pulled me forward with a hand on my shoulder as Miss Swann automatically reached out her hand for mine. "Something tells me I'm going to be thanking you a lot for steering him in my direction."

I took her hand, very conscious of the fact that shaking a woman's hand would be different but not sure quite how it would differ. Her hand was warm but not damp the way some men's hands were, and softer. It was like shaking hands with a satin sheet. But something weird happened. When she touched my hand there was, well, it's hard to explain, it was like an electric charge, but not a shock. I hoped it didn't show too much, but I could feel the blood rush from my face. I could practically hear my heart thud in my chest, and I was very aware of where all the blood went.

She gave me just the slightest smile, "Nice to meet you, uh, do you go by Edward, Eddie, JE... oh, no probably not that." Her smile changed to a smirk as she tried to suppress the giggle and released my hand.

Suddenly all that recently departed blood and more rushed right back to my face. Just about that time Mr. Shelby apparently got it and chuckled not so quietly to himself.

"Ah, I think I just got an idea about that 'long story' you mentioned, and your dislike of nicknames. I'm guessing you aren't fond of jokes about the 'family jewels' either." I thought I would die. "Probably shouldn't mention that you are the 'gem' in your father's crown." He chuckled some more.

I thought my face was going to catch fire. Why is it that the earth can never seem to open up and swallow you when you need it to? Miss Swann could no longer contain herself either and the giggle finally got out. She slapped Mr. Shelby on the arm.

"Bob, you're terrible. Leave the poor boy alone. He's probably been hearing it since he could crawl. He's at the awkward age. You know-" <<Oh God, don't! >> She did. "A diamond in the rough." They both cracked up, <<Just kill me >>, then she leaned across the table and put her hand on my shoulder. That same "charge" hit again. "I'm sorry, I know it's terrible of us but really, if you could see the look on your face right now."

Suddenly I found myself laughing right along with them. "You're right. I should probably just get over it. I doubt if there is a joke I haven't heard. And I'm sure I'll hear them all again. Actually my name is James Edward Matthews. I thought if I just changed to J. Edward it would be easier. Oh well, scratch that idea. I answer to just about anything. My parents have always been a little more formal after they figured out the curse they had placed on my life. They call me James. My sister and my close friends call me Jimmy."

Mr. Shelby placed his hand on my other shoulder. "Well, I think we are off to a good start and I hope that this is just the beginning of our friendship. So how about this, in class and when other people are around I'll be Mr. Shelby, just like with everyone else. And you will be Mr. Matthews. When we are alone, my name is Bob. And I hope to be enough of a friend to call you Jimmy. What about you, Susan?"

She turned up the wattage on her smile and looked me in the eye. Suddenly life was worth living again. There was a very odd glint in her eye as she said, "As a freshman of course you are not in any of my classes, and if others are around it would not be proper, but when it's just us," she reached out and took both my hands between hers, "please call me Susan. And I would be honored to be in the select group of close friends that call you Jimmy. I think I would like to be that kind of friend."

Something in the look and the touch of her hands suddenly had all the blood rushing south again. I'm not sure but I think I mumbled something like, "That would be swell." <<Swell? What are you six years old and your last name is suddenly Cleaver? Swell? How lame is that?>> Fortunately, Mr. Shelby rescued me.

"So then, Mr. Matthews, I'll look forward to seeing you sixth period tomorrow." I recognized the formal name and sure enough, another teacher was walking up. From the shorts, polo shirt and tennis shoes it was pretty obvious what she was, if not who. Mr. Shelby filled in the blank for me.

"Coach Jenkins, good to see you again. We're just making new friends. This is Mr. Matthews, one of our incoming freshman and the newest addition to my sixth period class."

I found myself shaking hands with yet another new person. Wow, three in one day, a new personal high. "Coach Jenkins." I said.

"Mr. Matthews, I think I've seen you before. Don't you have a little sister who plays basketball?" She inquired, taking my hand in a soft but firm grip.

"Yes ma'am, actually I do. Do you know Allison?"

"I'm friends with Coach Stewart over at Watson Junior High. She coached Allison's summer team two years ago and can't wait to work with her again this year. I think I remember seeing you in the stands a few times. She starts 7^th this year right?"

"Right, but not until next week."

"Well, Lynn has been anxiously looking forward to seeing how she has developed. She has very high hopes of an all-league team this year. I hope she's right because I get her girls in two years. Well, most of them anyway." She put a hard edge in her voice and grabbed my hand in a hard squeeze. "Your family's not planning on skipping town, are they?" Just as quickly she let go and smiled and we all had another good laugh.

"No," I said. "I don't think we're going anywhere soon. But I'll try to keep you posted if that changes. Or would it be safer to just quietly disappear in the middle of the night?" Everyone had another laugh and I noticed Mark staring at me from across the room, looking very perplexed. I remembered that his mom was picking us up after registration so we didn't have to wait for the bus.

"Well, it's been nice meeting all of you. I guess I'll see you, Mr. Shelby, tomorrow at sixth period." <<What the hell, you're on a roll >> I thought, deciding to be bold. I took one hand each of Coach Jenkins' and Miss Swann's, <<no, Susan's>>, in each of mine and kissed them in what I hoped was a courtly fashion. "And I hope to see both of you lovely ladies again soon as well." Miss Swann suddenly blazed a bright red, causing both the coach and Mr. Shelby to burst out laughing.

"See you tomorrow, Mr. Matthews." Mr. Shelby clapped me on the shoulder and turned back to the table.

"Better keep an eye on this one, Bob," chuckled the coach. "Nice to meet you too, gallant sir. I'm sure I'll see you again. It's James, isn't it?" she inquired as I dropped both of their hands. Susan's hand seemed to linger for just a moment as she took her hand away. "Oh Susan," the coach continued on turning away, "if you could only see your face. I can't wait to tell Lynn about this."

I headed for the door feeling much better about my future. Mark was waiting for me.

We headed out to the front and sure enough, his mom was waiting for us. We jumped in and headed off.

"Thanks for picking us up, Mrs. Davis," I said as I snapped my seatbelt into place.