The Best Years: A Vignette in Three Parts - Part Three

When the evening of the Sadie Hawkins Dance finally came, she went for a long walk, carefully avoiding the end of town where the school was now full of music and dancing.  But an uncaring wind carried snatches of rock ’n roll music to agitate the worm of shame each time she managed to convince herself she was glad Brent hadn’t said yes.  It probably wasn’t any fun at all and it would be so awkward and embarrassing to have to be there, pretending she was enjoying herself.

Her friend who had helped with the corsage had stopped asking if she had heard from Brent.  No one else knew.  Sometimes she wondered if her mother might have guessed at her shame, for surely Mom had seen the corsage, so carefully prepared and gaily bedecked.  But she didn't want to hear Mom reassuring her that it would all be better when she was older or saying that it was Brent's loss if he was too stupid to see what a special person she was.

For a short time she even wondered what Brent was doing tonight, what he might be thinking.  Had he accepted an invitation from someone else?  Was he sitting alone at home, hoping the phone wouldn’t ring?  Or was he snickering at what she had tried to do, to step out of her place and be someone she wasn’t?  She, who had hoped to say casually, as though it were a common occurrence for her, “oh yes, when Brent and I were at the Sadie Hawkins dance…” was now sneaking along dark streets hoping not to meet anyone she knew.

But of course, she did meet someone.  It was Mrs. McGrath, who had been her Grade 5 teacher, retired now and out walking her yappy little dog.  Between the inane shrill yaps Mrs. McGrath exclaimed, “Oh you dear girl, you should be at the dance.  Don’t miss out on the fun.  The high school years are the best years of your life.”

“Yes, Mrs. McGrath.  Goodnight, Mrs. McGrath.”  She was able to say the words despite the worm in her stomach that had slithered high enough to gag her throat.  Then she continued walking until she felt she couldn’t walk anymore.  And walked still more before she went home to destroy – calmly, thoroughly, and systematically – the hideous corsage that lay completed on her bed.

(The End)