Monday, November 12, 2012
I was fourteen then and in the ninth grade.
Back in the Mid-Jurassic Period, students were allowed to leave the school grounds for lunch. On that particular day, I was walking to the diner with a friend who was in the eighth grade. I’ll call her Lily, but that wasn’t her real name.
We were halfway there, when Lily stopped in the middle of the street, grabbed my arm, pulled me closer, and whispered in my ear, “See that guy coming toward us.”
How could I not see that guy coming toward us? He looked nasty—scowl on his face, black leather jacket, tight jeans. The word hood popped into my head.
“That’s [Tough Guy],” Lily said.
Although I hadn’t been formally introduced to Tough Guy, I knew some things about him, and they were not good things. He was a person whose reputation preceded him.
“He had to get married,” Lily whispered as he strutted past us. “Now he has to get divorced because he has to get married again.”
Yikes, I thought. “That’s crazy,” I said. “And anyway, maybe you shouldn’t believe everything you hear.”
Actually, Lily sort of heard right. The timing was a little off though. Tough Guy did get divorced within a few months. And he did have to get married again, but that happened about five years later.
He married Lily.