Notes at the end.

...

9th Grade, High School

Age: 13-14

September 2006

...

In the middle of September, the senior class begins to hang posters in the hallway announcing the theme for homecoming as Red Carpet Romance. After the first posters go up, it's all anyone can talk about in classes, passing in the hallways, on playing fields, and at lunch.

Homecoming was always a big deal when they were growing up. The whole town became awash in the school colors in preparation for the big Friday night football game. Store owners would hang signs and red and blue streamers in their windows. Alumni would be welcomed home with special discounts. Mr. Kelso always had a school-themed sundae that he dubbed "The Warrior" in honor of the high school mascot and nearly took an entire football team to eat. Mikey had managed to get his picture on the Wall of Fame for finishing it once.

Now that they're in high school, it's an even bigger deal. It's more than just the game and the parade. There is an entire Spirit Week leading up to Friday night, culminating in a pep rally that takes the place of Friday afternoon classes. The game is, as always, a big deal. But this year it's an even bigger deal for them as it's the first year they'll be separated in the stadium. Gus joined band in middle school, a way to connect with his father who would tell him about the USO during his tours in Afghanistan and Iraq, so Gus will march in the parade and sit in the band section of the bleachers. Vince and TJ, as members of the freshman football squad, will stand with the JV team right in the front of the student section. Spinelli, Mikey, and Gretchen will be a little farther up with the rest of the freshmen.

Though she hasn't said anything, Spinelli is the only one particularly perturbed with their segregation. Gretchen and Mikey may be two of her best friends but they are horrible football spectators. Mikey covers his eyes at every tackle and Gretchen's lectures on concussions and brain damage can really bring the game down. Ever since she was little she watched the game with Vince and TJ on either side. The three of them have been shouting at refs from the stands since kindergarten, when she begged her dad to bring her when he brought Joey. She had whined for days, neither of her parents believing that their little Pookie would sit through an entire high school football game without wanting to go home.

The joke was on her father and Joey – they didn't see her the whole night. She stood with TJ, Vince, and Mr. LaSalle, complete with big red and blue bows in her hair, each the size of her face, her mother always so insistent on dressing her in the most stereotypical Southern little girl outfits.

It isn't like she's the only girl that likes football. Football is a way of life and Gretchen isn't the rule, she's the exception. Spinelli could probably get Meghan Rigalli and some of their other friends to stand on her other side, a new screaming buddy to hopefully drown out Mikey's shrieks of terror every time it takes more than a second for the tackled player to stand back up. But even Meghan and the rest of their soccer friends seem more concerned with picking out dresses for the dance than they are about the football game, a stark departure from middle school.

They had even asked her to come with them to Townsedge Mall after practice but she had ballet and couldn't. She wouldn't have minded going. She has to get a dress at some point and going with her friends would be infinitely better than going with her mother, but part of her also feels conflicted. She has her reputation to uphold and if she goes gallivanting off with her friends to the mall what will that say to the classmates that are just getting to know her? The kids who didn't go to Spiro Agnew need to realize she's the toughest girl in school. She hasn't asserted herself enough to look too girly yet.

She pulls on her boots and grabs her backpack from her locker, waving to Mademoiselle Pavlova and the younger dance class as she leaves. Everyone else is already gone, but she was late, having spent too long after practice talking about the stupid dance with Meghan and the rest, so Mademoiselle had her stay the extra time to help out with the younger kids.

She opens the door and smiles when she sees TJ leaning against the bike rack, his face buried in an old Senor Fusion comic. He must sense her coming because he looks up as she hits the last stair and starts to put the comic away.

"I was beginning to think you skipped today," he says, his eyebrow raised, his voice trailing off in a way that questions why she didn't walk out with the rest of her class without actually saying the words.

She would never skip ballet and TJ knows that. He is one of the few people who realize just how important ballet has become to her since her mother forced her into it back in elementary school. Enjoying ballet would brand her as a delicate priss, the exact antithesis of the image she has carefully designed. It's why she was late. Meghan didn't understand why Spinelli wouldn't skip something she complains about all the time to join their friends after practice. It had taken her more than a few feeble excuses to get the other girls off her back and by that point there was no way, even biking at her personal best speed, that she would arrive on time.

But she doesn't want to get into that and the dance and everything that might bring up. So instead she smirks.

"But you stayed anyway."

"I guess you can just call me a sucker," he says, adjusting his cap as his lip curls into a crooked smile that makes her gut bubble. "I haven't gotten a chance to talk to you all day."

That is because they stayed up until almost dawn texting each other and not only did TJ sleep through his alarm – which isn't unusual – she slept through hers, only waking up when her mother came in her room in a panic. Their usual lazy bike ride to school had been more of a race. She barely sat down in her seat, huffing and puffing, before the final bell. TJ hadn't been so lucky, earning a lunchtime detention from his first period teacher for walking in after the bell and disturbing everyone.

"Well, whose fault is that, Mister Comedian? I heard about your grand entrance."

"Mr. Fitzgerald doesn't understand a good tardy joke," TJ says, bending down to begin untethering her bike from the rack. "Everyone else thought it was hilarious."

"You knew you were gonna go down for it though. Fitzgerald's the worst."

He pulls her bike away from the rack and gives her a toothy grin.

"It was worth it. I've never seen anyone turn that red that quick." He chuckles to himself. "Fitz ignites faster than Prickly did and that's saying something."

"You're a disaster," she mumbles, but her cheeks hurt from how big her smile has become.

She reaches for her bike but TJ shakes her off.

"Nah, I've got it," he says, holding onto the handles.

"What about yours?"

"I walked," he says. He ducks his head sheepishly. "I figured we'd get a little more time that way."

Her gut bubbles again so she adjusts her soccer bag on her shoulder to give her something to focus on besides her stomach clenching.

TJ started waiting for her after ballet at the beginning of the school year after what she can only describe as a period of withdrawal. That's what it felt like. When preseason started in August, they barely saw each other with their vastly different schedules. The freshman teams had to fight for available field time, meaning that their practices never lined up at the same time. Then school started and they didn't have any classes together, just the schoolwide lunch period. This had been such a drastic change from camp –

She crosses her arms and looks at her feet. They haven't talked about the two weeks they spent at camp together since they've been home.

"Unless, you know, you have somewhere you have to go," TJ says, pulling her out of her thoughts.

She shakes her head and the disappointment melts from his face as they begin to walk. Just like that, the switch is flipped again and the nervous energy between them dissipates. TJ even knocks her arm with his, his typical cocky grin illuminating his face once more.

"So how come you didn't come out with everyone else?" he asks. "Mademoiselle Pavlova give you a fancy solo?"

She snorts.

"Close," she says sarcastically. "I was late so she decided to use me as free labor."

"And you were getting on my back about causing trouble today," he teases.

She gives her best nonchalant shrug. "We make a pretty good pair."

"Yeah we do."

He lets go of one of her handlebars to hold his hand up for a high five. She reciprocates and neither pulls their hand back. Her heart pounds as their arms start to drop with their hands still connected. With a slight adjustment, their fingers intertwine and they're holding hands walking down the street.

Her tongue ties as her heart keeps racing. Stupid is beyond an understatement for how she feels about that.

She doesn't know why her body is reacting like this. Holding TJ's hand is nothing new for her. TJ shows his affection for everyone through touch and has since they were little kids. Even in elementary school, when they were too young to realize the implications, he'd reach for her hand if he noticed she was more upset than an arm slung over her shoulder would help. It's so natural for TJ to touch her that despite not being a touchy-affectionate person herself, she feels an unbelievable sense of calm when he reaches for her – be it a hug, an arm on her shoulder, or a hand to hold.

But something happened at camp. Or maybe it was before camp. She can't really pinpoint any exact moment, just that while they were at camp there was a weight to the action. Maybe it was that they were alone, surrounded by a camp of strangers. Maybe it was because they danced at the semi-formal dance and then again at the camp dance. Maybe it's because she thinks he might like her back. But for whatever reason, the act holds a heavier weight now, one that bubbles in her gut and makes her heart race and all sorts of other feelings.

She really wishes she could read his mind because she would rather die than out herself when she isn't a hundred percent sure he feels the same.

Eventually her heart calms down and they walk in a comfortable quiet. TJ is usually a Chatty Cathy, which makes her wonder if his tongue is tied just like hers, the nerves too much to let any words out. She wishes she could say something, get them talking, and maybe it would feel more like normal.

Mr. Kelso steps out of his store just as they're approaching. They both let go at the same time, as if the other's hand has caught fire, but she notices Kelso glance down to where they were joined, the old man then looking up at them with a sly smirk.

Maybe she's imagining that last part.

"Hello, TJ. Spinelli," he says, in the genial way that Mr. Kelso always greets them. She likens Mr. Kelso to Mr. Rogers – kind, warm, but knowledgeable of the ins and outs of everyone in his neighborhood. "Just putting up this sign. Can't believe homecoming is 'round again."

TJ's voice comes back before hers.

"Yeah." It's a little pitchy, like it was in middle school, but he shakes out of it quick enough. "It seems unreal that we're actually gonna be a part of the whole thing this year."

"The float decorating for the parade should be a good time," Kelso says. He grins a little too wide. "And the dance too. Do you have dates?"

Spinelli is sure that if she looked in the mirror she would be bright red at Kelso's fishing. But TJ doesn't even bat an eyelash.

"Come on, Mr. Kelso. We're freshmen. Freshmen never go with dates."

"That's not true," she mumbles. Then she slams her lips together to keep from saying anything else.

This is what she wanted to avoid. The girls on the soccer team were teasing her this afternoon, her crush apparently obvious to them. She is loathed to admit that if TJ asked her to go as more than friends she would say yes, even though it's completely against everything she wants to portray to the rest of the school.

TJ shrugs. "Yeah, I mean, the Ashleys will probably con some suckers into going with them," he says to her before turning back to Kelso. "But we're going as a group. Just like old times. The two of us and the guys."

"And Gretchen."

TJ turns back to her with his face contorted in confusion. "What?"

"You said the guys. Gretch's a girl."

TJ shakes his head. "You know what I meant."

She crosses her arms and scowls. This shouldn't bother her. Whenever their group is talked about in the collective, everyone is included in the guys. But today it ticks her off. If she hadn't been standing there and instead it was Vince or Gus or Mikey, TJ would have probably said the same thing. The two of us and the guys. Kelso would have understood that she and Gretchen were included but still.

She moves over and grabs the handlebars of her bike.

"That actually reminds me. I forgot I was supposed to meet Gretch after ballet," she lies. She is sure both TJ and Kelso can see right through her. "I'll see you later. Bye, Mr. Kelso."

"Wait, Spin–"

But she doesn't turn around. Instead she hops on her bike and starts peddling. She turns down Third Street and passes the playground, seeing Vince at the basketball hoop. He shoots a hundred free throws every day after practice and she figures that must be what he's doing. She could go over and blow off some steam. Vince usually lets her interrupt his free throws for a game of HORSE but TJ will walk down here and see her if she stays and she really doesn't want to get into it with him. So, instead she just keeps going, dropping her bike by the garage when she gets home. Scruffy, her family's big baby of a mutt, comes running to the door to greet her, tail wagging and ready to jump up on her.

Scruffy calms her down, even if she knows it's temporary. As soon as TJ sees her bike he'll know she's home and not at Gretchen's. Even if he doesn't check for it, she knows he'll still call or text her, wanting to know what made her run and if he has to apologize for anything. She doesn't want to think about that right now so instead she just focuses on Scruffy, who has now sunk to the floor for a belly rub, his tail wagging and his eyes begging.

So she follows him down to the ground, kneeling in order to give him what he wants, not able to say no.

...

The student government, or Student Senate as it's called, is one of the few clubs in the entire school with open membership and no tryouts. Anyone is allowed to join and for the first half of freshman year, it's a little bit of a free for all. Not wanting to overwhelm the freshmen with elections right off the back, there is no president and his cabinet until the second semester, and so for the first half of the year the faculty advisory that the class will have for the four years of high school leads the Senate in their activities.

For the freshmen, that means Franklin Dudikoff.

This is the first year that the twenty-five-year-old is teaching at his old school district and he is glad to be back in familiar hallways. He had interned at each of his three former schools during his undergrad education and had made the switch from elementary to secondary education after sitting in on an honors physics class. He was hooked.

He particularly likes the idea of having the freshmen Senate – they are still bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, still excited about every new thing but also still too nervous to step too far out of line. And he would get to grow with them, see them off to colleges and jobs. He is excited, to say the least, to be entrusted with the fourteen-year-olds' still wide-open minds.

But no one is quite as excited to see him as TJ Detweiler.

The minute Mr. Dudikoff walks in the room, he grins and leans over in his seat to whisper in Spinelli's ear.

"Spin, it's The Dude!"

She shakes her head at him, rolling her eyes at his childlike excitement, but then TJ feels Vince elbow him on his other side and he turns that way. Vince nods his head toward the front of the classroom.

"Isn't that The Dude?"

TJ nods. His appearance has changed a lot more than The Dude's had in the five years since Mr. Dudikoff had student taught in Ms. Grotke's fourth grade, so while the teacher may not recognize him, he is sure that this is the same guy. The Dude, as he was called at Third Street, had been playground folklore brought to life in their classroom for a week – a former king, a Prankster Prince, Numero Uno on Muriel Finster's Most Wanted List. Frank Dudikoff was everything TJ has ever wanted to be and more.

Having The Dude as their faculty advisor is going to be very tender.

The first Senate meeting for the freshmen occurs the week before the homecoming football game, in order for the class to prepare for the Spirit Week leading up to the game and dance. Mr. Dudikoff stands at the front, going over everything that needs to be done in preparation. They need to advertise to the other freshmen about the daily dress-up days that had been decided by the seniors. They need to decorate the "freshman hallway" – the first floor hall to the left of the main lobby that housed some math classrooms – in the freshman theme, which was always "School Spirit" so they didn't have to choose themselves. They also need to decorate the freshman float that will be used in the homecoming parade to ride down Grand Street and welcome the varsity football team to the field on Friday night. All in all, there's a lot of work to do and they need to recruit more of their classmates to get it done.

"So, where do we want to start?" Mr. Dudikoff asks.

There are about twenty or thirty students packed in the tiny room during their lunch period and no one seems to want to be the first to talk. The teacher just waits, figuring someone will take the lead eventually.

TJ looks around to see if anyone is going to talk and then he raises his hand, standing up in the process.

"I think we need to divide and conquer," he says, walking up to the front and pointing out the different events that the teacher has written on the board. He takes his own dry-erase marker and looks out at the students. "Anyone have any preferences? Ashleys, I know you do. So, spill."

"Like, put us down to be the decorators," Ashley A tells TJ. "We'll be heads of the decorating committee."

"Yes, we'll do the designing for the float and the hallway," Ashley B continues.

In the back, Spinelli leans across TJ's empty chair toward Vince, who leans down to meet her.

"So, basically, they're planning on bossing the rest of us around and not getting their hands dirty," she says.

Vince smirks. "But, you see, they just got their nails done, so it would just be unfair for them to have to do any work and ruin them."

Spinelli snorts and the four Ashleys turn around in their seats to glare at her, even though Vince is also snickering at his own joke. The four girls still look perturbed as they turn back to the front, where TJ is taking names for actually decorating the float and the hallway.

She turns to Mr. Dudikoff, who has completely handed TJ the reins and instead sits on the windowsill with his arms crossed and a sort of awed smile on his face. It is pretty incredible how easily TJ can work a room. She barely recognizes some of the kids, especially the ones who didn't go to Spiro Agnew for middle school, and yet TJ knows every single person's name, never having to awkwardly pause when writing down who will be decorating what and making sure they have enough hands on deck to get both done.

"You five fools in the back," TJ teases once he has the majority of the board filled with names and times of the rest of their classmates. "What day? Thursday or Friday?"

The hallway will be done on Thursday in preparation for the School Spirit Day on Friday. Then in the time between school and the homecoming football parade on Friday they'll work on the float, starting in as soon as the flatbed arrives. The Ashleys, unfortunately, will be at both as the designated decorators, so that's not really a deciding factor.

"Can we do Thursday night?" Gus asks. "I need to be with the band on Friday."

Spinelli wrinkles her nose. She has both morning and afternoon ballet sessions on Thursday, to accommodate the big homecoming hubbub on Friday, so she won't be able to do it, but she also doesn't want to make a big stink about it in front of everyone. She'd get labeled by these new kids as a dainty priss because even though knows how physically tough it is to be a dancer the rest of the school does not - and she will not lose her rep in the first month of freshman year.

The groups are pretty even anyway. It's not like she'll be missed. She'll just talk to TJ on the way out if she even needs to make the distinction. She's sure some of these kids will flake out anyway.

The meeting doesn't last much longer after that. They don't have to vote for a theme for their hallway or float since the freshman theme is always the school colors. So, with a plan for the hallway and the float, they're left to enjoy the small amount of lunch they've got left. Most people file out but TJ gets stopped by Mr. Dudikoff.

"Teej, we'll meet you in the hallway!" Vince calls out and TJ waves them off.

At first Spinelli follows Vince, but once they make it to the door she turns around. If The Dude is taking the names, she should probably make her switch known.

"Well, that was a lot more efficient than I was planning," she hears Mr. Dudikoff say as she walks over to the front.

TJ shrugs in response. "Eh, you just have to be direct or the Ashleys will walk all over you."

"Class elections for freshmen aren't until January, but I take it you're interested."

Again TJ shrugs. "There's some stiff competition."

She rolls her eyes. Since when does TJ have competition for things like this? There hadn't been class presidents or even student council in middle school, but TJ would have been it if there had been.

TJ turns and smiles at her. "Hey! What are you still doing here?"

She nods to the board. "I have ballet on Thursday so I need to switch."

"Oh, right, I should have remembered that," TJ mutters.

She feels her stomach clench in response. None of their other friends remembered yet he thinks it's important. She watches as he erases her name and his from Thursday on the board and rewrites them in the Friday lineup, leaving the other four on Thursday. If her stomach flips anymore it's going to end up in her throat.

He turns and smiles. "There. All fixed."

He didn't have to move his own name. Honestly, he'll probably go both days anyway to make sure the Ashleys don't turn the float pink or whatever. But he moved his name with hers and even though there's no one else left in the room except Mr. Dudikoff, it feels important.

His behavior toward her has been almost infuriating lately. They haven't had much time alone since she freaked out at Kelso's. Their morning bike rides have been quiet and when they're around their friends it's business as usual. It's their text messages that have taken a new turn. If she wasn't sure he was flirting with her before, she's sure now. He'll type things that sound cliché and romantic but outside of that bubble nothing ever comes to fruition. All flirtatiousness drops outside of the virtual world they've created.

Maybe she's reading too much into things.

"Here, I'm just gonna write these names on paper really quickly," TJ says, but Mr. Dudikoff shakes him off.

"I've got it. You're not class president yet," the young teacher jokes. "Go on. I'll see you two later."

TJ balks enough to be polite but doesn't take too much more prodding to leave the rest of the work to Dudikoff and he and Spinelli leave the room. The other four are still waiting for them, leaning against the wall outside of the classroom. The bell rings just as they converge and a few of them groan. There goes the rest of lunch.

"What are you guys going to do for the spirit days?" Gus asks as they head for the stairs. They all have class on the second or third floors, so they'll have a little distance together before they have to separate.

"Well, the first two days are perfect opportunities to do group costumes," Mikey suggests. "That could be fun."

Spinelli rolls her eyes. "It could also be lame."

TJ runs ahead just enough to beat them to the stairwell, standing on the first step to face his five friends.

"Safari Day will be easy," he says. "I can be the guide and you all can dress up as animals."

"How come you get to be the guide?" Spinelli complains. "I'm not going to walk around school all day looking like a giraffe!"

"Of course you're not, you'd be the shortest giraffe ever," Vince says with a smirk. "I'm in! I'll be a jaguar – they're the fastest."

"Actually," Gretchen says, pushing up her glasses. "The Jaguar may be the fastest car, but the cat is not the fastest land animal. That would be the cheetah."

He shrugs. "Same thing."

"I think I'll be a zebra," Gus interrupts, seeing Gretchen open her mouth to discuss the differences between the two big cats. "That should be an easy costume."

After Mikey and Gretchen also agree, TJ turns to Spinelli with a grin. "Got the majority. What's it gonna be, Spin? You in or out?"

She crosses her arms and glares, but after a minute she caves, just as he knew she would.

"Aww man, Teej," she groans. "Why do I let you talk me into these things?"

"Perfect, we'll figure your animal out later," he says, turning to the rest of the gang. "Because we also need to split up for Twin Tuesday."

He glances at the gang. "Mikey and Gus, you're both blond. Happy twinning." Then he debates for a second – do the more logical thing and put Gretchen with Spinelli because they're both girls or put Gretchen with Vince so he can be with Spinelli. "Gretchen and Vince, you're both tall. That means, Spin, you're with me."

The rest of the spirit week dress-up days – Pajama Day on Wednesday, Superhero Day on Thursday, and School Spirit Day on Friday – don't have any immediate pairings, so they leave those alone as they rush up the stairs for class.

...

Notes:

Spinelli's dog Scruffy is mentioned in a few episodes but is never seen. I decided that he's a mutt for the purposes of this story.

Mr. Dudikoff was a student teacher at Third Street when the gang was in 4th grade and given how nervous he was and how he was only there for a week, I guessed that it was his first rotation, which would probably make him a junior in college and about 20/21. Hence how he is 25 now. He has been a 'real' teacher rather than a student for about three years, but this is his first year back in his own school district.

One question I have for you is in terms of the formatting of this story. Freshman year will be segmented into 3 parts - September (surrounding homecoming), January (surrounding the election), and April/May (surrounding the end of the school year). I currently have the entirety of September done and it sits at about 36 pages in Microsoft Word (15,000 words). I'm estimating January and the Spring one to follow similar formats. What would you prefer:

1. Do as I've done with 8th grade and cut them into more manageable chapter lengths (so we have September 2006 part 1, September 2006 part 2, etc)

2. Put the whole chapter in its entirety even if it's very long

I'm leaning toward option 1 to make it more manageable to read at a time, but I thought I'd put it out to you all.

Please let me know your thoughts!