Thank God for Marjorie

The day began like any other. The sky wasn’t any bluer than normal, the dogs weren’t barking any louder than usual, and Marjorie and I were walking to school, like we always did. She was my neighbor and in a grade below me at Bayland High.

Even though Marjorie was 16 and I was 17, something about her always made her feel older than me. Or maybe it was me. She was always rubbing in the fact that “girls mature faster than boys.” But you know what? It’s the fact that she knows junk like that makes her feel older, more mature somehow. Anyways, I felt like I could relate to her more than most girls (and even guys, truth be told).

As we walked the three blocks to school, Marjorie chattered on about different things: the upcoming Talent Show, her new role as editor in the newspaper, and other things I half paid attention to. So her next question came as a shock:

“Who are you taking to prom?”

I looked at her and realized that prom was this weekend and I still didn’t have a date. Thank God for Marjorie.

I smiled lazily and slung a friendly arm around her neck. “Who’s my date? You are, silly.”

She quickly slid out from under my arm and smiled at me. I noticed that the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Yeah, well you should have asked me if you wanted to come with me,” she sniffed. I’d never seen her look like this.

“I, uh, I’m sorry, Marjorie,” I stuttered, slightly taken aback. Trying a new tactic, I straightened my shoulders and said in a solemn voice, “Will you do me the honor of being my prom date, Marjorie Henderson?”

A real smile spread across her face, lighting her green eyes and making her freckles jump. There was a wistful quality to that smile though that made me feel somehow nervous.

“I’m sorry, Jon. I already have a date.”


“You don’t know him. He’s a sophomore.”

Her voice was so cool, so measured that I wanted to grab her and shake her, shake her until she felt as rattled as I did in that moment. And it was in that moment that I realized I was in love with Marjorie Henderson.

0 comment(s):