QotD: High School Romance

What was the best date you went on in high school?

If by best, you mean most confusing, awkward, and historically calamitous, then easily my Senior Prom. My boyfriend and I had broken up 6 weeks prior to Prom.  I know because post-break-up, in my shallow high school girl mind, I wondered who (if anyone) I would be going to Prom with.  Along came A, who happened to be intensely smart, cool, and doting.  He was definitely a dark house candidate, being a year younger than me, and not particularly handsome, but he pursued me like the jewel in the desert that I was, and asked me to go with him to Prom weeks before anyone else was being asked.  Coincidentally, he was the ex-friend of my ex-boyfriend, so there was certainly an element of high school revenge as an undercurrent.

Preparations were afoot for the big night.  His mother rented him a convertible as our transport.  He consulted me on the style and shape of his tux.  We even planned on driving out to the beach after the dance, even though this was at least 2 hours away (his suggestion, he wanted to be different from everyone else).  A friend of mine assured me a most amazing corsage had been selected for me.  He made reservations at a well-known, high-end Italian restaurant that I'd always wanted to go to.  There was a lot of build up to the night.

But, as any good high school story goes, the night was one perfect disaster.

For one, he seemed nervous from the time he picked me up that evening.  In the photos my parents took with both of us, his nervous smile is forever proof of this.  The dance itself was fine, though we opted to leave early so we could get to the beach portion of our evening. He drove for two hours, and of course it was almost pitch black when we got to the beach.  I remember I was getting ready to get out of the car when he said, "Can we talk?".  I sat back down.  The tone in his voice was serious enough I started to wonder if was dying, or something else equally catastrophic.  He sighed repeatedly, and had a hard time getting out what he wanted to say.  Finally, he turned to me, and said,

"There's no easy way to say this.  So, I'm just going to say this.  I've come to realize these last few weeks that.......I'm gay."

I still wonder why he chose that moment to tell me, and even stranger, why he refused to talk to me after that night, as I hadn't said anything remotely rude, other than conveying shock (I was after all 17 and sheltered).  Perhaps in the confusing, hormone-fueled times that are high school I was merely a test to his emerging sexuality.  In hindsight, his overtly gentlemanly ways (held hands, pecks on the cheek, but nothing more) and his obsessive, well-atuned sense of fashion made the news obvious.

A couple years later I ran into him when I was home from college on break.  He had forgiven me for whatever it was that he felt I did improperly, and I forgave him for ruining one of the most romantically built-up nights of my high school career. At that time he was out (to everyone), going to school in San Francisco, and having the time of his life.  I wished him well.  Though there are still those times when I wonder, why Prom night? Perhaps he didn't want to ruin it for me.  Perhaps he didn't want to ruin it for himself.  It's high school, what more can you say.