The night of the dance finally arrived.

This was our first real date. 
I don’t remember exactly what I wore.
I’m pretty sure it looked a whole lot like what Maybe had described.
I’d gone shopping.
I wanted to get it right.
Besides…
I always liked dressing up when the occasion called for it.

My brother drove me to the dance.
Getting dropped off in his Triumph TR4. That was a whole lot cooler than  anything I could have dreamed up.
  It was snowing.
Not hard.
Just enough.
  On the drive over…
he started coaching me.
Real coaching.
He knew this wasn’t just another school event.
This was my first real date with Maybe.

He reminded me to be a gentleman.
Open doors.
Listen more than I talked.
Treat her with respect.
Make sure she had a good time.

He expected more from me than what  passed for normal junior high behavior.

Truth is… so did I. He wasn’t trying to teach me how to impress a girl.
He was teaching me how to treat one.
We pulled into the school parking lot.

Arriving at your first real date in your brother’s   British sports car didn’t exactly hurt my confidence.
I thanked my brother…
climbed out…
and there she was.
Already waiting.

“The snow in her hair”

“The light in her eyes” She was beautiful.
I just stood there for a second.
“Wow…”
“You look great.”
She smiled.
“Thank you.”
Then she looked me over…
smiled again…
and said,
“You look great too.”

That was all a fourteen-year-old boy needed to hear.
Together…
we walked toward the front doors.
I held the door open for her.
She smiled.
“Thank you.”

I remembered my brother’s advice on the drive over.
So far…
I was doing okay.

Inside, Maybe introduced me to her world.
To her friends she’d smile and say,
“This is the guy I’ve been telling you about.”
To the teachers…
“I’d like you to meet Billy.”
I don’t remember every introduction. I just remember realizing…
she’d been talking about me with her circle of friends.

That felt pretty good.

Somewhere along the way…
I’d stopped being “the new kid.”
I’d become Billy.
At least to her.
And I really liked that.
  Eventually we danced.
I had rhythm.
Just not where it counted.
I had plenty of rhythm in my hands.
And plenty in my heart.

My feet… were pretty much making things up as they went along.
I was faking it.
Probably… faking it pretty poorly.

The funny thing was…
Maybe didn’t seem to care.
She just smiled…
followed along…
and somehow made it all work.

I’m pretty sure she was doing most of the dancing.
I was just trying to stay out of her way.
I did learn that dancing isn’t nearly as complicated when you’re looking into someone’s eyes instead of down at your feet.

Somewhere during the evening…
an ice fight broke out.
I don’t remember exactly how it started.
I may or may not have had something to do with it.

Funny…
Some memories stay with you because they changed your life.
Others stay with you because of who those memories were made with.
Maybe… was one of those.

Eventually…
the music stopped.
The lights came up.

Teachers started encouraging everyone toward the doors.
Just like that…
our first real date was over.
I walked Maybe out to her car.
Her mom was waiting.
  We stood there for a moment…
neither one of us quite ready to say goodnight.
Finally…
I leaned over…
and gave her a little kiss goodnight.
She smiled.
I smiled.

Then I opened the passenger door for her.
“Goodnight… Maybe’s Mom.” I had not met her, Maybe’s Mom was the best I could do.

She smiled.
“Goodnight, Billy.”
Maybe climbed inside.
I gently closed the door.

Looking back…
I guess I’d been the topic of conversation with her mom, too.
I stood there…
watching their taillights fade away into the snowy night.

Then I turned…
walked over to my brother’s TR4…
and climbed in.

He looked over with a grin.
“Well?”
I smiled.
“It went pretty good.”
He laughed.
“That’s it?”
I shrugged.
 “Well… what all do you want to hear about?”
  That was apparently all the invitation he needed.
 The ride home became a play-by-play of the evening.
 He wanted to know everything.  “Did you dance?”
 “Yep.”
 “Did she seem to have a good time?”
 “I think so.”
 “Did you walk her to the car?”
 “Yep.”
 “Open the door for her?”
 “Yep.”
 He nodded.
 Then he smiled.
  “Did you kiss her goodnight?”
 I tried not to smile…
 but I wasn’t fooling anybody.
 “Yep.”
 
He grinned.
 “Atta boy.”
 
The rest of the drive home was filled with more questions…
 and a whole lot of laughter.

I never did tell him about the ice fight.

Some stories…
are just better left off script.

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