Meet me by your locker

When I was growing up, there weren't any kids on my street my own age. Retirees, sure. And the occasional young married couple renting from one of the retirees. But kids my age were a rarity. That's why my heart pounded with excitement when the phone rang one lazy July afternoon. It was our elderly neighbor across the street. Our family knew her pretty well; I of course didn't like that she gave out raisins on Halloween but was willing to overlook that fact today. She asked my folks if I could come over and play with her granddaughter Jen for a few hours. Jen was visiting from out of town and started to get a little bored being all alone at her Grandma's. Understanding this boredom completely, I ventured across Judistine Drive and knocked on the door. A tall woman answered. Hesitantly, I said, "Hi, I'm here to play with Jenn?" The woman smirked. "I am Jen." Oh crap.


I'm 10, and this girl with burgundy (dyed!) hair and a crop top was 14 or 15. An adult from where I was standing. Why would she want to hang out with a dorky little kid like me? As it turns out, boredom made her less choosy about her friends and we hung out in the shady backyard all afternoon. She was five years older than me, and in high school! She wore makeup every day and had a locker! She'd been to real dates and dances! I was fascinated by her. We read YM and Seventeen magazine. She put a Tupac tape in her Walk Man and let me listen to a few songs. She was my new hero.


In December, she visited for a few days over Christmas break. Then we shared some candy on Easter and Jen told me about her first drinking experience. I sat in awe of her story, which started with someone's Mom being out of town and someone else's older brother buying them a case of beer. Beer was gross she said, but she learned to like the bubbly, happy feeling it gave her so she was willing to try it again. She also let her boyfriend up her shirt, but she was sober enough not to let him in her pants. These stories thrilled and frightened me, and I was desperate to hear more. But, Jen's folks were getting ready to head back home, so I had to go.


By the time I saw Jen again, I was a freshman in high school and she was in college. College! As giddy as I was by this development, I was even more giddy at the thought of finally impressing Jen. I thought I knew a thing or two, and was ready to show Jen how grown up I was. I put on my favorite Bongo jeans and Gap t-shirt. Some eyeliner and body spray. I thought I looked cool, and she would be impressed by how much I'd grown. Jen greeted me with a big hug, said she liked my hair, and began telling me about college. The parties, the dorms, and the guys. Again, I was reduced to wide-eyed wonderment. Try as I might, I couldn't play it cool in the midst of her new experiences. After a few minutes, she asked how everything was going for me. Did I like high school? What activities did I do? What were my friends like? I told her school was OK, I was playing volleyball and in the drama program and that my friends were few, but I was meeting more people all the time. Jen asked if I had a boyfriend, I told her no but there was a guy I sort of liked. Then I began to gush on about my best friend, how she had met this guy at lunch, and he was a sophomore and he really liked her! They had been going out for almost a whole month. He was on the wrestling team and was so handsome! They talked on the phone almost every night, ate lunch together, wrote notes, the works. He was smitten with her and she totally knew they were gonna get married.


I finished my story breathlessly, expecting Jen to be impressed that my friend had found herself a keeper so soon into the year. Jen just said, "Yeah. I was gonna marry my boyfriend when I was 14, too." There was no sarcasm or even the slightest patronizing tone to her voice. She simply insinuated that lots of people feel that way about their first boyfriend. Since not everyone is running off and eloping with the same guy they had algebra with, it obviously fails more often than not.


At 14 though, I didn't realize this. I thought for sure Jen didn't understand the depth of my friend's relationship. She and her boyfriend would make it! This would end in a happily ever after. They'd do it.


They didn't. My friend and her boyfriend broke up awhile later and were just another intensely brief high school relationship. Yes, some couples do make it through the maze of adolescence and that's peachy. But what I'm really hung up on is Jen's comment. She spoke volumes in that one little sentence. "Yeah. I was gonna marry my boyfriend when I was 14, too." In hindsight, it was wise and almost cryptic. It has stayed with me for over a decade, and although it was an offhand comment, it has given me a lot of perspective over the years. I doubt Jen ever even knew what she gave me with those words.


Sometimes, as my friend and I would learn throughout high school, things fall apart. That's all. It isn't usually fair or predictable. Like not getting into your dream college or not getting your first choice of career. You muddle through for awhile, start to find some redeeming qualities in your new situation and just make the best of it. As time moves forward, your challenges and joys become apparent. At some point, if you're lucky, you look back and think, "I wouldn't change a thing. I couldn't imagine being anywhere else."


That's the idea Jen planted in my head: Life is so huge, don't get too hung up on the fact that things might not go according to plan, as in not everyone marries their boyfriend at 14.

Besides, that *Nsync-themed wedding she was planning would have been really tacky.