Even though the length of my relationship with Donna was shorter in duration than the infatuations I had with Becky or Jan, the breakup had a significantly greater impact. This was probably due to the fact we had actually spent time together and grown to know each other over the six or eight weeks, whereas in the other two situations, though they may have lasted months or even a year, it was mostly at a distance with a smattering of face to face contact. Her absence left a void.
Fortunately, youth has certain advantages. Despite whacked out hormonal systems, teenagers have amazing resilience and regenerative powers. Not to diminish the pain and anguish I endured as the result of being rejected, but unlike Romeo I never felt suicidal. Of course Donna did not drink poison she merely discovered what many teenagers realize that her emotions were fickle.
Faced with the prospect of having to take another class that summer to attain senior status in the fall I decided to knuckle down and work hard to raise my GPA. Unlike the previous year the class I needed was offered at Marshall High. Another thing that was different was the majority of students in this class took SA, or superior ability, classes during the school year.
I am not sure how students were selected into the SA track. Many, if not all, had gone to Sixty-fifth Street School. However, if I learned nothing else during that summer it was the students I assumed truly were superior had no greater gifts than I did, at least not in English.
Four things stand out in my memory of the class, the story we read, its form, a student, and the teacher. In prior years we had read Elliot’s Silas Marner and Dickens’s Great Expectations, but neither of them prepared me for Golding’s Lord of the Flies.
In the story a group of British boys are left to fend for themselves after their plane crashes on a deserted island. Their exploits move from an attempt to form a civilized democratic society with rules and benevolent leadership to the liberation of an inner savage and animalistic hunting, torturing and killing. Having grown up to expect the best of people Golding’s narrative of an ugly depraved being lying just below the surface civilization provides was extremely disturbing.
Adding to the value of this story was the fact that it was not a segment of a large hardcover anthology. Each student in the class had his or her own paperback copy of the novel. No longer were we reading schoolbook text, we were reading an adult book.
Of course we were still in high school, and therefore my expectations were the same as any other class. Despite being told of the importance of regular attendance my friend Stu consistently showed up late when he showed up at all. I am not sure whether it had to do with his playing in a band or his disregard for rules. In either event, I knew he was not going to pass the class. Wrong. He aced the midterm, the final, and the course.
Finally, it may be as a result of having someone my own age reject me, but Mrs. Willoughby, who only taught at Marshall High during the summer, evoked a level of interest in me similar to young Michael in The Reader. Only in this case she could read. Actually, it was the way she read, sitting at the front of the room on a hard chair with her tanned legs crossed at the knees and her silver blonde hair illuminating her face as her sultry voice projected profound images of the characters in the book, that captured my fascination. Though I did manage to raise my grade point, in contrast to the fictional Michael, my attraction to the older woman remained pure fantasy.
Did you have high school fantasies? Tell us in the comment section.
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