He was an adept roller, able to go backwards and make that hairpin left turn at every rounded corner of the rink. I was woefully struggling in the small practice rink off in a darkly-lit corner. We had played together for many years, but this was our first official date, since it was not in my little red house, my bedroom, his basement or in the woods on our favorite path, not during junior choir or upstairs in his house, listening to a recording of Pope’s a Telltale Heart or over a bunsen burner experiment on his dining room table.

We were both very nervous, and acted so differently with each than we ever had before. Sean felt awkward that I felt awkward. I was quiet and he was quiet. If he had had the wherewithall, Sean commented, he would have just grabbed my hand and pulled me over to a quiet corner and talked with me until the music stopped. Unfortunately, he was stymied and I was waiting for his lead. Sean didn’t want to ruin our friendship. Neither did I. The afternoon ended in emerging from a dark hole into the blinding sun, an uncomfortable ride in his mother’s station wagon and then eyes down-glanced, whispered good byes.

This date followed shortly after our first kiss and the wintergreen lifesaver closet incident. I grabbed him in (your former bedroom closet, too, I might add), and proceeded to share the marvel of sparks shooting from between my molars. Sean remembers wanting to stay in that closet with me forever. I wanted to too, but lord, what would I do with him? Even on our first kiss, I tweaked his nose a couple of times before finally giving the poor guy a kiss among the rubble of the Benjamin Handy Blacksmith shop foundation.

The woeful date was followed not long thereafter by a doomed meeting in the John Winthrop Junior High School gym. Sean’s usual group of friends were glaringly absent that evening during the student council’s sponsored dance. His mom, as usual, was the town constable on duty. Damn.

I refused Sean’s proposal for a dance. After all, he had abandonned me in the kiddie roller pool. Sean’s mom saw her son was not dancing and convinced sweet Holly Hallden to ask him to dance. The following day, Sean received a note from Holly, very nicely making it clear that they were not an item, despite the dance during a couple’s song. Sean replied, “No problem.”

Neither of us went back to a John Winthrop dance for the rest of the school year, and then Sean moved that summer.