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This story starts out in eighth grade. All the best middle stories do, at least in my experience. All the worst ones, too.
Like this one.
I was always the one in my group of friends who never had any boyfriends or “talked” with guys (was it just my middle school that called getting to know someone before dating “talking”? Or is that a universal thing?).
Anyway, I finally started talking to a guy, which was a big deal for me. On top of that, he was older AND from another school in a different county from mine. That made it a big deal to pretty much everyone else at school, too...I really don’t know why, though—kind of silly looking back on it (All of middle school was silly and embarrassing if you really think about it).
One day, the boy I was talking to asked me to go to the movies with him. I was afraid to ask my parents because 1. He was asking to go on a school night, 2. My parents like to meet EVERYONE first before I go with them somewhere, and 3. He was a BOY and I had never asked to hang out with a boy, let alone go on a “date” with one (Is it really a date if neither of you are even old enough to drive yet?)
I built up the courage to ask my dad, and to my surprise, he actually said yes! On top of that, he didn’t even question me! Or want to meet the guy!! I was completely floored. Of course, my dad would still ultimately meet him whether or not he required it, because he had to be the one to drive me and drop me off at the movie theater to meet up with the boy I was “talking” to.
Finally came the day for our “date.” I got ready as best as I could because I was never one to get dolled up or dress nicely. Since my family lived about 30-45 minutes away from the movie theater, my dad and brother decided to make the most out of the time they would be out of town and decided to watch a movie, as well.
Due to the movie times, my dad and brother’s movie started before mine. So I was sitting down, looking at my phone, waiting, when someone startled me by walking directly in front of me and leaning down in my face.
To my surprise, it was the boy I had been talking to. He smelled so good, looked really nice, and was taller than I anticipated. I was excited, but suddenly I was very, very nervous too. It was almost time for our movie, so we walked towards the ticket booth.
After being directed to the proper theater, he decided to stop and get concessions. He told me to go ahead and grab us some seats.
He slowly made his way up the stairs before the movie started with a Dr. Pepper and a box of Sweetarts.
Anyone that knows me knows that I really don’t like Sweetarts. However, he didn’t know this, and offered me some anyway. Of course I said no, and for some reason I could tell this made him uneasy, although it really shouldn’t have.
Finally, the movie started, and I began to become a little absorbed in it. That is, until I felt air hitting the side of my face, coming from the direction of my date.
I turned to look at him and it appeared that he was blowing air in my face, which confused me. I didn’t know what he was doing, so I simply turned back to the movie and began to get reabsorbed in it.
That is, until I felt him blowing on my face again. This time, I didn’t just look at him, I gave him a puzzled look, too. He didn’t notice though, I don’t think, because his eyes were closed. I quickly dismissed it and decided to not ask any questions, as I turned my focus back to the movie yet again.
Shortly after, though, I felt him blowing air on me again! This time, I was a little impatient on top of being fairly confused, and I looked at him with a slightly annoyed look before I blew air back at him. He opened his eyes and once I knew he understood that it was deliberate, I started watching the movie again.
He turned back too and never blew on my face again for the remainder of it. Afterwards, we left the theater and said goodbye.
We parted ways after a more-than-awkward hug and went home. Whilst on the way home, I received a text from him, but I didn’t read it, as I had a headache and didn’t want my phone to die before getting home.
Once finally home, nearly 45 minutes later, I remembered I had a text. I opened it and immediately wished I hadn’t.
The text read, “I was trying to kiss you. Three times actually.”
And I instantly knew that he wasn’t blowing air on me...he had been trying to kiss me!!
I was mortified. I didn’t know what to say, so I waited a while to text back, even though it had already been 45 minutes since he had texted me.
When I finally responded, all I could manage to reply was, “Really? I didn’t notice...”
Ugh, I’ve always been the worst when it came to boys.
The next day at school, all of my friends were excited to hear about my “date” with the “cute older guy from Thompson,” but I was too embarrassed to tell them anything about what really happened.
So I lied.
I told them that last minute my dad said I couldn’t go and that I had to cancel because of that. It was the most believable thing I could come up with that would generate the least amount of questions.
Luckily for me, they bought it, and I never talked about (or even to) that boy ever again after the whole incident was over.