The minutes leading up to the summer of 1976 were some of the most nerve-wracking in Christine's life. Looking back at those moments as a woman, she would think about how stupid she was being at the time. As she grew up she was married, ran for school president and rode The Rattler at Six Flags, but still she couldn't match the feeling of being stuck in that Junior High classroom, smelling sweat and bubble gum and reading the same line in Romeo and Juliet over and over again.
She was sitting at the scratched up school desk quietly, like she always did. The worn thin book held together by tape and her freckled fingers. Christine hadn't turned the page in perhaps 25 minutes. Of course this went unnoticed by her class, just as everything else did. Red converse ankles were folded underneath her chair. A variety of names were written on the rubber toe, including but not limited to: Mitch, Sabrina, Carl and Jodi.
Her bushy red eyebrows creased in the center and she concentrated, trying to not think about the rush home and how unpleasant that was going to be. or maybe she could just stay behind and be humiliated. Chris decided to only do it if Sabrina was, which seemed fair. And even though she had that sorted out, she couldn't stop thinking about it. Her mind went on to other things, like what she was going to wear that night, at the last junior high party.
She had to make this one count, because she'd skipped all but a few of those in the past, and was now left with a less than stellar set of social skills. She'd never even kissed anybody before, and there was no way she was going into freshman year without kissing a dumb boy first.
Maybe she'd go for Carl. Carl was nice, he liked her, he was her friend. But he was a few inches shorter than her though... she wasn't sure how that was going to work. The guy's supposed to be taller than the girl, right? At least, that's what Christine had been taught, by her older sisters and by society itself.
Maybe Mitch? No, gross. They were practically brother and sister, and there'd be no way she could face Jodi if she found out. Jodi was probably one of her best friends in the world, even though she was four years older.
Maybe she'd just find someone, who cares who it is. Just some random guy to get it over with, so she can move on with her life.
Her eyes had moved from her book to the window. It was a nice day outside, and Chris longed to be out there. Not doing any sports or anything, god no. She'd given up on that a long time ago. Just sitting in the soft green grass, her head clear of worries about the coming year.
'What, drawn, and talk of peace? I hate the word. As I hate hell, and all Montagues, and thee.' Chris read Tybalt's line again in her head. Not really understanding, or caring. Straight to the window her eyes went again, but this time it was at the sound of a car pulling up outside the school.
"Okay you freshman fucks! Listen up!" A voice yelled from outside, further amplified by the supermarket-style microphone he had. "It's your lucky day," The whole class looked out the window, and Christine winced at the harshness of his words.
"Usually you'd be spending you're freshman summer getting you're asses busted, and running for you're worthless little hides. But this year because we feel so sorry for ya, we're gonna take it easy on ya, and save us all a lot of time." Chris smiled slightly to herself, knowing that none of this applied to her and the worst she'd leave school today with was grazed knees and a bruised ego.
"So if you meet here," The man outside gestured to the place where he stood "Right here after school, today, you only get one lick from each of us. But if you run like cowards, well, it's open season all summer long boys."
Chris turned to the boys behind her, a shit-eating grin plastered on her face. "Shut up." Mitch mumbled from his position at the window, and she put up her hands in mock surrender, turning back to her seat.
"Oh yeah Mitch Kramer?"
Chris' head whipped around again, this time with an expression of total fear. Mr Payne, who was seated at the front, grinning, gave no help to the boys, or Chris. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying himself more than the boys outside were.
"Mitchy, Mitchy Mitchy Mitchy," The man let out a lazy laugh and Chris got up to look with Carl, pulling down the off-white blinds with two fingers. She got a better look at them then.
And there he was, Don-fucking-Dawson.
He went around with Christine's sister, Vivian, when she was a senior and he was a junior. And even though he felt completely emasculated by the fact that he was dating a girl older, and an inch taller than him, he knew that he could never get anything better than the goddess that was Vivian Price.
She was six feet tall, an impressive feat for a girl, especially one of eighteen. Most of that height though, was made up of her long, tanned legs, made longer, often by platform sandals but occasionally by a pair of red heels if the situation demanded it.
Sh had curly hair, just like Christine. But her hair wasn't the bright orange-red that stuck out in odd directions like Chris'. Hers was more of a wave. A graceful wave that flowed down her back. Stained pale gold from the sun.
To cut it short, she was the pretty one of the family. While Vivian got her mothers looks, Chris got her dad's. Her dad being, of course, a fat, middle aged balding man who worked in an office.
Her younger sister, on the other hand, was an annoying freak. And that was putting it nicely.
At least she didn't have to deal with Viv anymore, since she was leaving for college soon, but Chris was stuck with Lisa for at least another four years. And that was the best-case scenario.
Lisa was going into sixth grade, and was the complete bane of Chris' existence at that point in time. She never seemed to grow out of the whole "Five-year-old with a running nose and sticky fingers" thing. So at age eleven was a freak not only amongst her siblings, but also her peers.
So there she was, stuck between a freak and a goddess. And all she was was Chris. Average height, average weight, average build. Freckled with a mane of red hair piled on her head. Standing out constantly, but still somehow, unnoticed.
And just like that, the bell rang.