By Kim McNealy Sosin

I was wearing them the day I caught him with that freshman girl. There I stood in my dirty white buck shoes, white anklets, and gray wool straight skirt, staring in open-mouthed dismay. All I could focus on was the new girl coyly smiling at John, the pattern of light coming through the school principal’s windows lighting her face and reflecting off the display case that announced “Class of ‘59.” 

John’s junior class ring hangs on a gold chain around my neck, but here he is, flirting with that cute freshman nobody. He knows I’m watching; he must know I’m both humiliated and mad as hell. Is he breaking up with me? With me: cheerleader, honor roll student, class president last year, homecoming queen…Well, you get the point, and I hate to brag. 

During the next class period, I look around at the guy potential. Ron is smart and will be more successful than John anyway, Brian is a basketball star and due for a scholarship, and Roy is a great dancer. I can easily do better. But all these guys are dating my friends. I need to look again for someone free and cute. Slim pickings this time. Oops, Mrs. Sterner is calling on me. I wonder what she asked. My friends’ faces are buried in their books, not one of them peeking up. They have no idea. Now I’ll flunk English and it’ll be all John’s fault. Well, maybe not flunk…

For the rest of the day, I’m trying my best for the right attitude: Just who does he think he is? or Who cares about this guy, anyway? or I’m going to coolly hand this ring to him and tell him to have a good life.  But I’ll do that later, right now I’ve got to get out of here before I cry. 

What a long weekend. Saturday night with my mother watching Lawrence Welk. No dates, John is apparently busy, maybe with that flirty freshman. We usually meet on Monday mornings before school to start the week off happily. I don’t even know if he will show up this time. We are done.

And here he comes, with her in tow. Oh my god, this will be the end of us. I think I should jump in and dump him before he dumps me. But I don’t. He looks so normal, as he smiles, says, “Hi Kim, meet my cousin Jane. She’s having a little trouble getting to know people in town. I told her how awesome and helpful you’ll be.” 

Oh. I’m standing here stupid-speechless in my dirty white bucks, rethinking the value of trust.  

I hear a cardinal calling, calling, calling for his mate from a nearby treetop.

“Kim?”  John says.

I look at him, then at Jane, and in the distance the school bell rings.