The Men and the Boys: Sandy

A 16-year old knows everything. Everything. Life, love, politics, finances. This is how it is, and this is how it's going to be. End of story.

I'd chosen to stay and take my chances. Why did I do it? Because according to everyone, even him, he was in a miserable relationship. I really, really liked him. I knew he liked me, and he knew he liked me. If you put two and two together, it was obvious that he would eventually see how much better I was, break up with her, and be mine. Throw a horse into the equation, and we ride off into the sunset. Bonanza!

Over the next few weeks, I played my cards strategically. I was very talky. When I saw him, I was very pretty. I smiled, was touchy feely and super attentive to everything he had to say. Even if it was about her. I justified it this way: better to know everything about her and have it come from his mouth, then from someone else. Honesty is the best policy, right?

Totally jaded. But back then, I didn't think so.

Sandy's school was having a Valentine's Day dance that year. Georgia and a bunch of our other friends were going, so I tagged along. I'll admit I had my own agenda: Sandy was going, and so I knew she would be there. I wanted to get a look at the other girl.

I still remember what I wore and how I looked that night, because it took me hours to put it all together. Low rise, slightly baggy blue jeans, and a crazy sheer patterned blouse on top. Underneath the blouse was a black body suit, and on my feet were multicoloured stitch Docs. Georgia had helped with my hair and makeup.

Tragic for the new millenium, but back in 1992 I was smokin', and I knew it. Look out, Sandy. Look out, girly.

My parents drove us to the dance. How embarrassing, but that was the only way I was allowed to go. After I shooed them away, Georgia and I met up with our friends, and then made our way through the main entrance and into the huge school booming with dance music. Those doors opened up into a long hall, which right then was clustered with people. Matt was there with a bunch of the guys, and a bit further down was Sandy. He wasn't alone.

Georgia kicked me in the shins, but I didn't budge. No one knows me like Georgia, so she took my hand and dragged me on over. Halfway there Sandy caught sight of us, and smiled. He looked happy to see me, but she didn't. I guess she'd been hearing about me, too.

Here was the girl that wasn't just my competition, but the girl Sandy wouldn't part with. We looked each other right in the eye. I had assumed she would be a great beauty or have some feature, some trait that would make her irresistible enough for him to stick with her the way he did, but I couldn't find anything. She was pretty plain, in fact. Slim build, brown eyes, long straight brown hair. I won't pretend I wasn't just a bit gleeful to notice she had a few split ends.

Sandy introduced us all. I was gracious enough, but she just shot me a quick (kinda fake) smile, grabbed Sandy's hand and dragged him away. I didn't watch them leave. I hadn't expected much more than that anyway, so I followed Georgia, Matt and our friends inside the gym to get in some good dancing.

Not a few minutes later Sandy showed up, alone, with a sour look on his face. They'd argued, she'd insulted him and stormed off. I didn't press for questions. I was just happy he'd come along, by himself, and was apparently starting to realize he'd been with the wrong girl all along.

After that, he was the same old Sandy. Apparently happy to be there, and apparently happy to be with me. We talked, we walked, we jiggied on the dancefloor to a few fast ones, and only a couple of times did I catch a blank expression on his face that meant he was somewhere else. I told myself he was still reeling from the shock but that in a short while, we would be together.

Sandy and I were standing against the gym bleachers when a slow song started to play; I don't remember which one. I do remember standing very close to him and watching all the other lovey couples, hoping he would ask me to dance. I also remember watching his back as he walked away, weaving through all the people, and finally out the door. I knew where he was going, and I made sure I saw every step he took until I couldn't see him anymore.

I'm not going to do this, I thought, I won't. I'm not going to stick around forever waiting for him to change his mind, getting hurt all the while. I gathered up Georgia, and we left.

Having strict parents worked out to my advantage here, because boys weren't allowed to call me. This was pre-cell phone era too, so with Sandy I'd done all the calling. I knew he would have something to say about what had happened at the dance, but also knew he wouldn't risk getting me into trouble.

I didn't bother dialing his number. I didn't want to hear it anymore, and over the next few weeks did my best to forget about him and move on with my life.

Of course, he had to go and do something completely unexpected.