That ‘90s Girl

I met Melanie in grade seven. My family had recently moved to a new city so I was the new kid in school. I guess you can say she was the first girl I ever met there. When the time came for the teacher to assign me a seat, the spot next to her was the only one available. The seating in the classroom was arranged so that students were either in groups of three or four with one exception: for some reason, my seating arrangement with Melanie was the only one that was in a group of two. So we ended up sitting together, just the two of us, with our desks joined, facing each other, on my first day of school, while everyone else sat in groups of three or four, and it stayed that way for a while. I don’t quite remember my first words to her nor her first words to me, but I do remember her catching me trying to copy off her. I was surprised when her reaction was to lean back so I could see her work, especially when we barely knew one another. I might’ve said thanks quietly and there might have been a quiet acknowledgement on her part. It was so simple, the way it began, and before we knew it, it would grow into something more.

I would learn later in the school year that she had a crush on me when my sister, who was one grade below us, told me that Melanie ended up in the same cabin as her in camp and she admitted her crush on me during one of their “girl talks.” I wasn’t sure what to do with that information at first. I was just dealing with so many things like adjusting to a new place and a new school. My self confidence was so low that my mind refused to believe that a girl could take an interest in me and I talked myself out of taking any action. Besides, I wasn’t even sure I was attracted to her. She was pretty, but far from being the prettiest in school. Unfortunately, at that age, before I knew any better, looks counted for a lot. The prettiest girl in school was all that mattered in my young, naive mind. That all changed when an incident at camp made me the target of Melanie’s anger. We were swimming by the lake when I accidentally used up most of her sunscreen by mistake. I thought it was sunscreen provided by the school for general use by students. It turned out to be hers and I had used up most of the bottle. I was extremely apologetic, but that didn’t stop her from lecturing me. Her anger should’ve bothered me but seeing her all fired up, combined with the intoxicating coconut scent of her sunscreen while she stood in front of me on the beach in a swimsuit that captured every single one of my guy friends’ attention made me realize that I had a crush on her too.

There were so many coincidental crossing of paths between us that sometimes, I couldn’t help but feel that maybe fate was intervening to bring us together, as cliché as that may sound. Take for instance, the story of how I learned that we actually lived in the same neighborhood. My sister and I had to take the bus home from school one day (we normally got a car ride home) and the bus stop was in no man’s land, away from where the other students were catching the bus. When we got to our stop, we expected to be the only students there but we found Melanie and her younger brother (who happened to be in my sister’s grade) already waiting there ahead of us. We all boarded the same bus but I didn’t get a chance to talk to Melanie because my sister seemed to be avoiding her brother (out of shyness, more than anything). So we sat on opposite sides of the bus, in awkward silence and waited for our stop to come up. When our stop came up, it became clear that Melanie and her brother were also getting off on the same stop. We all hopped off the bus together, and then to our mutual surprise, we all proceeded to walk in the same direction. Some curious glances were exchanged, which felt slightly accusatory, as if we were trying to figure out who was following whom and why. I don’t think we talked the entire way, as we were all equally weirded out. Eventually, they reached their house and my sister and I marveled at how beautiful it was as we continued walking past towards our home, which was still several houses away. I was relieved that Melanie and her brother would not have to see our place, which at that time, was just a small, dark basement suite. It took me a while to get over the fact that we lived in the same neighborhood without realizing it, and it briefly occurred to me that if that wasn’t a sign that we should be together then I don’t know what was.

Later that year, Melanie and I both got invited to a Halloween party at a classmate’s house. We arrived separately but somehow ended up squeezed together in the only couch in the room. Melanie was wearing a sleek catwoman costume which, in my eyes at least, easily made her one of the most attractive girls at the party. I couldn’t afford a costume so I had on normal street clothes which I paired with a cheap but ugly mask from the clearance bin. The funny thing was all night I was obsessing over how lame I looked but Melanie calmly and sensibly assured me I looked okay. I got the sense that all she cared about was me, not my costume, and she saw past anything else that wasn’t really important. This all took place in the early 90’s (which explains the lack of social media elements in this story) so a lot of music at the party were R&B hits or “slow jams” as they were more commonly called. The prospect of having to dance terrified me but I was left no choice when Melanie pulled me up with her, as she was getting bored with just sitting on the couch. It was our first time slow dancing so we were both nervous and awkward. Each time we made eye contact, we would exchange shy smiles and quickly look away. Before we knew it, three songs have passed and we were still dancing. Our moment together was interrupted by overzealous teasing from our friends who made a big deal about us being together which quickly escalated into the girls screaming that we made a cute couple. Melanie and I were too shy to admit that we liked each other so we futilely tried to draw attention away from ourselves by pointing out that other people were dancing too.

As grade seven came to a close, I remember my mom receiving a phone call from Melanie’s mom about organizing an end of school party together. It seemed that word about us acting like a couple had reached her parents. My family wasn’t really in a good spot financially and socially at that time, so my mom politely declined. I remember being relieved and crushed at the same time by that decision. I was relieved that we didn’t have to spend money that we didn’t have but crushed because I knew how disappointed Melanie must’ve felt. After that, I thought that was the end of our story. I found out on the first day of grade eight that she moved away to a different part of the city and she moved to a different high school so we weren’t neighbours and classmates anymore.

A new girl piqued my interest in high school, a dazzling beauty by the name of Claire, who, with her professionally-styled, shoulder-length hair and her fair skin, differed strikingly from Melanie, who had long plain hair, glasses, and tanned skin. Also, unlike Melanie, Claire was completely uninterested in me despite my best efforts, which were pathetically unimpressive to begin with. To bring me out of my depression, my friends proposed going to our first school dance together. They thought it might give me a chance to get Claire to see me in a different light. I remember how hard it was to ask my parents to buy me a ticket since we were financially hurting at that time. But they were supportive in the end. They even made sure I dressed well by providing a pair of dress pants and a long-sleeved shirt borrowed from my dad. It was embarrassing but it was all we had to work with. As for cologne, my dad let me borrow his strong-smelling “English Leather” cologne which made me smell old. My look was rounded out by blue “no-name” gel on my hair. I started second-guessing why I was going to the dance in the first place. I would look and smell out of place.

More second-guessing followed when, upon my arrival at the gym for the school dance, my dress shoes failed the scuff test and I was asked to remove them. But they were so old and worn that I thought maybe that was actually for the best. I certainly wasn’t thrilled about walking around the gym in my socks, however, especially when I was made fun of by my classmates who had their shoes on. To make matters worse, I found out that the new girl I had an interest in, Claire, had a boyfriend from another school and she brought him to the dance. I felt like I got punched in the gut. I was about to call it a night when I thought I caught a glimpse of Melanie among the crowd. Was I hallucinating? It couldn’t be. But there she was, beaming at me like something out of a dream. I walked over and said an awkward, “hey, it’s you!” She gave me a playful look. “Yup, it’s me,” she replied with a giggle as she gave me a hug. It turned out her best friend who goes to my school, and who was our mutual classmate in grade seven, had invited her over as an outside guest to our school dance. Melanie looked stunning that night. It was a makeover straight from a 90’s teen movie. Gone are the glasses that made her look nerdy (not that I minded it, I actually thought they made her look smart) as she started wearing contacts. The soft curls of her hair spiraled gently down to her shoulders, and she wore an outfit that subtly complimented her striking figure. I didn’t hold back in telling her on how beautiful she looked. She smiled and joked about running into our elementary school principal one day (a very nice old lady) who commented that she had transformed into a very beautiful young woman. She said, with a smirk, “and what was I before? Ugly?” I reassured her that she looked great back then too. Then I noticed that she, too, had been asked to remove her shoes as they also failed the scuff test. We had a good laugh about seeing how dirty our socks got. As if on queue, Janet Jackson’s song, “Anytime, Anyplace” started playing. Our eyes instantly met as the same thought occurred to both of us. I held out my hand, she smiled and brushed her bangs behind her ear before taking my hand. We made our way to the dance floor then we held each other close. Colourful lights glittered around us and reflected in our eyes as we slow-danced to Janet’s smooth vocals. From the sidelines, one of my guy classmates made his way over to poke fun at us. Melanie effortlessly brushed him aside without breaking a beat. She has always been confident but gone was the shy, quiet, bookish girl that I used to know. The rest of the night was a blur. I wanted to dance with her again, but for some reason, we lost sight of each other. I was asked to dance by two other girls who were interested in me, but whom I had no interest in. I obliged them but I really wanted one more dance with Melanie. The night ended and I thought I lost her again.

Fate intervened one last time before it finally gave up on bringing us together. One of my guy classmates from grade seven who also moved on to a different highschool somehow got word of the situation between me and Melanie and decided to do some intervening of his own. He pressured me to three-way call her so I could ask her out to the next dance. This was during a time when my parents had a really bad fight over finances in front of me and my sister. I couldn’t really think of the next dance, let alone afford the tickets. The three-way call to Melanie was an awkward one with me babbling and being incoherent. It ended with me embarrassing myself and severely pissing her off. I never heard from her again after that. It was probably the last straw in a long string of disappointments that I personified for her. I wondered if she would still give me another chance if she knew my side of the story. But I looked at the road ahead and all I saw was that I was still dirt poor. What could I give her that a guy who was well off and more confident than me can’t give her? I felt that being with me would only hold her back. So I gave up any thoughts of pursuing her so I could focus on digging my family out of our tough financial situation. I thought I was making a noble sacrifice, but looking back, it was a stupid mindset to have had. I should have just been honest in the first place but my insecurities got the better of me. It’s easier to know what I should have done now but at that time, in the heat of the moment, it was difficult to think clearly.

As an epilogue to this story, I once mentioned to one of my closest friends that she was one of my biggest regrets and he mentioned running into her. He said she still looked great and that she had a boyfriend. Many years after that, I looked her up on the internet. I didn’t try to make contact but saw indications that she was happily married with kids. If that is still the case, then I’m happy for her. I guess fate could only do so much to bring us together. I just didn’t make enough effort to get us the rest of the way. I can’t change the past but I can try to make sense of it. Regardless of how things turned out, I look back on our brief time together more with fondness than regret and I’m grateful that our paths crossed. Although, sometimes, I do wonder about her side of the story. I never did find out why she moved away and why she changed schools. I think I heard a rumour that her parents split up, which is why they moved, but I was never able to confirm it. I also heard that her brother might’ve been involved in drugs but I was never able to confirm that either. Lastly, I wonder if she even remembers me at all. I can only hope that I didn’t negatively impact her life in any way. It all happened so long ago, it doesn’t even feel real anymore. Perhaps, all that’s left is in my mind now.