Contest #188 winner 🏆

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Romance Coming of Age Funny

“Stop daydreaming Mr. Delano.”

In a moment, Mrs. Frampton, subjecting the tender wallflower of my affection to the grotesque spotlight of her own indifference, made cease the contemplation of my life’s own end, the one theme of my existence: Andrea Taylor.

It’s the Spring of 2005; I am a 7th grader at Fort Sumter Middle School, home of the Trojans. Andrea sits enthroned one row ahead, three columns to my right. I have mixed feelings about this, for while it affords me an almost uninterrupted view of her during second and fifth period, it also places her immediately adjacent to Kyle Schwimmer: another seventh grader, possessed of summit-less bicep peaks, which forces me to a fixed conclusion that he’s been injecting steroids intravenously since infancy, and whose hair, defying no less than two laws of thermodynamics, I am sure, manages to appear wet and shiny hours after we all have a just expectation that it should be dry. I despise Kyle Schwimmer.

Andrea herself, ah! Andrea, crowned with brown tresses, and bangs; layered alternately and Kevlar-like in Abercrombie and Hollister tank tops; floating on a cloud of all-white Etnies; and tastefully adorned in torn and acid-washed denim: if Helen, Esther, Cleopatra, Meghan Fox herself stood before me, they could, collectively, aspire to light but a Yankee-candle of affection before the blast furnace that is my love for Andrea Taylor.

She dignifies all she touches. Braces, hitherto unthinkable, become the obvious conclusion of several months’ jagged back-and-forth between myself and my mother: she, keenly impressed by the delayed gratification of orthodontics; I, unwilling to suffer an infinite two years of public degradation before my muse. That is, until Andrea arrives one Monday morning, her teeth elegantly arrayed in alternating pink and key-lime green squares – her two favorite colors, and now mine. At best, she freely elected the ornamentation and the entire school, nay the entire world, must soon follow suit. At worst, she was compelled by her parents, and to join her was now a question of solemn solidarity.

“I said stop daydreaming Mr. Delano! You’re not even on the right page! You had better snap out of it before this evening. And to think, you before the entire school!”

As the sole member of my 7th grade class to make the Principal’s List for four quarters consecutively, I was nominated by the Student council, that reverend body, to deliver the customary student-speech at the Spring awards banquet. My entire family would be present, as would a large portion of the student body, their own families included. My speech was already prepared some week in advance, but the grandeur of the event – the achievement of garishly mismatched ties and dress shirts of which adolescent boys seem uniquely capable; the attendance of one’s forebears; the event’s occurring at night! – all of this called for something more than a bare statement of the facts, a weak-kneed acknowledgement of one’s faculty and peers; it demanded romance. 

Everything had prepared me for this moment: by which I mean chiefly Disney channel movies, but it feels like everything. I must take the occasion to declare my intentions, my love for Andrea. I set to work. 

Let it not be supposed that the account I now relate is unrealistic, for I am convinced that if the same series of events does not unfold hourly at middle schools across the country, it is to be attributed less to any want of imagination or romantic inclination on the part of adolescent boys, and more to their own diffidence in making such feelings known. My case may be singular in that I did declare my love, but then, mine was no common love. 

The night arrives. I scramble numbly from the third row of my mother’s van just in time to witness Kyle Schwimmer emerging from the passenger seat of his older brother’s Mazda Miata, a convertible. A pox on all his house! I’m wearing a light-blue button-down, hastily-ironed khakis, and, in defiance of all my mother’s objections, a striped tie: green and pink. Kyle is in all black. I think this is ridiculous. I take a second look. It doesn’t seem quite so ridiculous. I wonder why I did not wear all black. I hate Kyle Schwimmer.

We begin to walk past what should be familiar sights, but in the dark, and on a night of such moment, I recognize nothing. That is… until I hear her voice. Andrea and her parents are following just feet behind us. My younger brother trips over a step. I despise him with my entire soul. She doesn’t seem to notice, or to impute his failings to me despite our near relation. I hold the door open. My mother thanks me with a half-tone of surprise which, I trust, instantly exposes my sham gallantry for what it is. I cannot escape the suspicion that in the short time it took us to move from the van into the school, I have fallen, like one of Milton’s angels, to the furthest recesses of the pit in Andrea’s esteem. She smiles as she enters through the door – I am confident that no door has ever been restrained by such a superfluity of force – and is heard to say, “Hi John!” I ascend all at once from Inferno to Purgatorio to Paradiso. I respond in monosyllables - though, apparently, to some effect, as she graces me with a smile and proceeds accompanied to the cafeteria-made-banquet-hall.

She wears a strapless white dress with black polka dots - I wish she wouldn’t bare her shoulders, what if Kyle Schwimmer sees? - black flats, a red handbag, and a puzzling mix of blush and eye-shadow, the effect of which might have proven comical to an elder member of her own sex, but which appeared to me the very incarnation of beauty.

A half hour passes during which I’m ushered to a seat onstage by Mrs. Frampton, the cafeteria grows steadily more full, and my bowels become a butterfly house. Finally, it is my turn to speak. I address my peers, their parents, our faculty and administration, make some general remarks about the progress of the year. In short, I read the entirety of my two-minute speech which had passed successively beneath the careful scrutiny first of my father, then of Mrs. Frampton, then of the assistant principal. But I am not done. Unfolding from my shirt pocket another sheet of college-ruled paper, scrutinized by none but myself, I begin. 

I am catatonic. The few claps which do follow serve only to foreground the vacuum I’ve made of this middle school cafeteria. I’m shushed down the steps by Mrs. Frampton to the empty seat between my father and younger brother. The assistant principal clears his throat and continues as though I’d never said a word. I don’t dare meet my mother’s eyes. Shuffling ensues as the guests are released to the buffet table. My parents think it best that we excuse ourselves. The sole glimpse I catch of Andrea is of her staring directly down, neither white nor red, but somehow both, entirely, simultaneously – with a parent’s hand on each of her shoulders.

We drive home in silence – at least as far as dialogue goes: the radio insists on playing, and I wonder why every single song seems a mockery of the events of the last hour. 

It would be true to say that I spend the evening in agony. It would be equally true to say that I was very nearly buoyant. It was like one of my track meets: an agonizing affair so long as it continued, and even immediately after the race was run, but it just felt so good to have it over with.

I spend time in front of a book, though not quite reading; in front of my television, though not quite watching; and finally, I turn to the family computer. Dare I? She wouldn’t…? I log in to AOL Instant Messenger and there, carved in black pixels is AndreaaaT93. Petrified, mortified, ossified: like some antediluvian fish buried beneath the waves of judgment and become stone, I undergo internal decomposition in a moment. I move to log off when a window appears:

AndreaaaT93: I love you too. :)  

She moved to Colorado that summer; her father received orders to a new base. 

It’s the Spring of 2023. I’ve not seen her since. I’ve loved others, or at least said I did. Still I can’t help but wonder how much happier the world might be if we all married the first girl we fell in love with. Has my love ever since been so disinterested? I used to wish that a bear would burst into the halls of our school, so that I’d have something to behead, something to lay at her feet. I wanted to become a soldier, just so I could perish carrying a small portrait of her in my breast pocket. I plundered songs and movie scenes for lines to express, if only to myself, what I could not but feel. It was idolatrous, but, perhaps, not without meaning. Why was I so soon enthralled? Why, in 7th grade, looking for a dragon to slay, a princess to save? 

It will be observed that the contents of my panegyric have been excised from the narrative. The reader may rest assured that Andrea was wooed with all the accumulated prowess an eleven year old may be justly expected to muster. I invoked Shakespeare, Noah Webster; several verses of Stevie Nicks’ “Landslide” and more than one Coldplay song were flagrantly plagiarized; in short: I declared my love to her in no uncertain terms. Kyle Schwimmer teased me ferociously until the end of the year. But then, Kyle Schwimmer was never, if only for a brief moment, loved by Andrea Taylor.

March 11, 2023 02:45

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125 comments

Mavis Webster
20:52 Mar 14, 2023

This has honestly been one of my favorite pieces I have read in a while. It was witty and entertaining, dramatic, and with a good dose of eccentric middle-school flair. Some of my favorite lines are the ones that follow: "I have fallen, like one of Milton’s angels, to the furthest recesses of the pit in Andrea’s esteem." "I ascend all at once from Inferno to Purgatorio to Paradiso. I respond in monosyllables - though, apparently, to some effect, as she graces me with a smile and proceeds accompanied to the cafeteria-made-banquet-hall." "P...

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Tom Bombadil
16:49 Mar 15, 2023

Thank you so much! This meant the world! Jury is out on their love story : )

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Khloe Upchurch
17:21 Feb 05, 2024

I agree

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KD Weinert
21:30 Mar 17, 2023

Excellent, Tom! I love your protags flowery vocabulary. So funny coming from an eleven-year-old! Especially funny that you leaped over the climax of the story, leaving us to wonder exactly what the speech was like. It's much better left to our imaginations. A well-deserved win! Congratulations!

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Tom Bombadil
00:43 Mar 20, 2023

Thank you so much for the kind words KD! You mean you didn't speak like that as an eleven-year-old? : )

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Wally Schmidt
19:19 Mar 17, 2023

This story perfectly encapsulates the awkwardness and bravery of a middle-schooler in love. What I love the most is that his love is not unrequited, as most first loves are, and that he is able to carry that moment and feeling around for the rest of his life. So well done-congrats on the win!

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Tom Bombadil
01:04 Mar 20, 2023

Thank you very much Wally! I hadn't considered how it might be unique in that respect; I certainly had my share of unrequited, adolescent infatuation as well! So appreciate you reading.

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Elisa L.
18:39 Mar 17, 2023

"Kyle Schwimmer teased me ferociously until the end of the year. But then, Kyle Schwimmer was never, if only for a brief moment, loved by Andrea Taylor." I loved this line, it's my favourite. Keep up the good work!

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Tom Bombadil
00:44 Mar 20, 2023

Thank you so much Elisa! So appreciate you taking the time to read!

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04:25 Mar 18, 2023

Brilliant comedy, so many funny lines of taking 11 year old student life seriously, in "solemn solidarity" wearing braces,etc.. Sort of a Confederacy of Dunces unselfaware narrator. I almost wish the tone of slapstick comedy carried through to the ending, as I didn't understand the, I love you (they didn't seem to have any interaction before this) and then she leaves. Maybe this is based on a past experience? But huge congrats on the win, I did get a big laugh out of so many parts of this.

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A.K. Pittman
14:01 Mar 18, 2023

I thought it was perfect. I did not read it as slapstick funny but instead I read it as an accurate portrayal of adolescent angst. The humorous parts were carefully cupped between this boys innocence and his wild emotions. It was a bittersweet love story.

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14:37 Mar 18, 2023

I thought it was brilliant too. Especially, some of his prose was stellar.

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Tom Bombadil
00:40 Mar 20, 2023

Thank you so much Scott! Appreciate you taking the time to read, and glad it gave you a laugh or two!

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Alguy 457
01:54 Mar 18, 2023

Outstanding. Loved it. One cops all the emotions of young love, it made me jealous of your skills lol. Great job Tom well deserved win 🏆

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Tom Bombadil
01:01 Mar 20, 2023

Thank you so much! Your words really are such an encouragement!

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Carrol Halliwell
22:28 Mar 17, 2023

I love, love, love this story. You are an exceptional writer. You must be, because I didn't want the story to end. Congratulations Tom. Oh, and now I'm heading to a dictionary to find out what "panegyric" means. 😂

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A.K. Pittman
14:01 Mar 18, 2023

Lol I did look it up!

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Tom Bombadil
00:41 Mar 20, 2023

Full disclosure: I double-checked the definition before using it myself, haha! Thank you so much, and thank you for taking the time to read it!

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Lori Ann
22:02 Mar 17, 2023

I could visualize the boy in love. Well done!

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Tom Bombadil
01:02 Mar 20, 2023

Thank you very much Lori! Thanks for reading!

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Andrew Fruchtman
20:46 Mar 17, 2023

Wonderfully nostalgic and sweet. Well written and funny. Congrats on the win!

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Tom Bombadil
01:02 Mar 20, 2023

Thank you so much Andrew! A pleasure to write, and an even greater pleasure to receive such kind words!

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Theresa Anna
19:12 Mar 17, 2023

“ I used to wish that a bear would burst into the halls of our school, so that I’d have something to behead, something to lay at her feet” Amazing! Laughed out loud reading this. Congrats!

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A.K. Pittman
14:02 Mar 18, 2023

Yes. That was awesome!

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Tom Bombadil
01:10 Mar 20, 2023

Theresa, your appreciation of that line sent me in search of one of my favorites; I thought you might appreciate it as well: Speaking of his adolescent crush, David Copperfield says: "...wishing that a fire would burst out; that the assembled crowd would stand appalled; that I, dashing through them with a ladder, might rear it against her window, save her in my arms, go back for something she had left behind, and perish in the flames. For I am generally disinterested in my love, and think I could be content to make a figure before Miss Lark...

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Theresa Anna
17:37 Mar 22, 2023

Perfect !

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Carla Ward
00:02 Mar 20, 2023

A delightful foray into the abyss of pre-adolescent attraction and infatuation. I loved this.

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Tom Bombadil
00:45 Mar 20, 2023

That means the world, Carla; thank you so much for reading! Abyss is right!

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Maggie McCann
23:29 Mar 19, 2023

This was so witty and clever, and a blast to read. I thought that the modern setting, mixed with the almost poetic kind of language you used, made for a very enjoyable story! This was very deserving of the win. Keep up the good work!

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Tom Bombadil
00:46 Mar 20, 2023

Thank you Maggie- so appreciate you reading!

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Glenda Toews
16:10 Mar 19, 2023

I enjoyed this piece a lot. Well done!

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Tom Bombadil
00:46 Mar 20, 2023

Thank you so much, Glenda!

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Ashli Dinkelman
03:03 Mar 19, 2023

Nicely done. It was cute.

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Tom Bombadil
00:47 Mar 20, 2023

Thank you very much Ashli!

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Marty B
01:18 Mar 19, 2023

Great fairy tale story of love that burns so bright it burns! Poor Mr.Delano, unable to make a connection with his One True Love (OTL) and so without a bear, or a war, has but one chance to defeat his rival- the Evil Kyle, and so must light his own reputation on fire in sacrifice to express himself to OTL. And it worked! Until her Great Warrior Father, spirited her away to the Mountain kingdom of Col-a-R-ado. The elaborate prose added to the story. I liked this line- It was like one of my track meets: an agonizing affair so long as it c...

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Tom Bombadil
00:49 Mar 20, 2023

Thank you Marty! I had to include it: that post-track-meet-feeling left indelible marks on my soul!

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Jose Gonzalez
01:16 Mar 19, 2023

Great story and a nice stylistic choice to not include the speech. You allude to it in the end, great choice. Much deserved win

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Tom Bombadil
00:52 Mar 20, 2023

Thank you so much Jose! Hope whatever you imagined in its place was satisfying!

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ANDERS BECKMAN
22:18 Mar 18, 2023

Your prose possesses such beauty that it elevates what some may consider to be a menial topic to a level of divinity. The passionate and uninterrupted love so eloquently conveyed in the first part of your story contrasts effectively with the awkward and almost embarrassing midsection, finally sliding into a simply incredible ending; after the validation of the protagonist's passion, the object of such passion disappears abruptly. The final few paragraphs do a wonderful job of summarizing the story and tying it all off. My favorite part of th...

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Tom Bombadil
00:54 Mar 20, 2023

Thank you so much for writing this Anders; it's very thoughtful, and I'm so appreciative you took the time to read!

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Anne Wilkins
22:02 Mar 18, 2023

Congratulations, such a clever, witty and actually heart warming story. Your MC had such a unique almost Shakespearian voice filled with old world charm. I love the descriptions of his love, the reference to braces, and how he feels about Kyle Schwimmer. Well done!

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Tom Bombadil
00:55 Mar 20, 2023

Thank you so much Anne; your kind words mean the world, and encourage me to continue writing!

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Mason Smith
21:40 Mar 18, 2023

I loved this story. Such wonderful writing, I couldn’t stop reading. Please, keep writing on here so we can see more of your wonderful works. An amazingly well-deserved win.

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Tom Bombadil
00:56 Mar 20, 2023

Thank you so much Mason; it's very encouraging, and I so appreciate you taking the time to read!

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Mason Smith
18:06 Mar 21, 2023

I always try to red the winning stories to hopefully better my own writing, but none of the others I have read have been as much of a delight to read as this one.

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Mason Smith
18:06 Mar 21, 2023

I always try to red the winning stories to hopefully better my own writing, but none of the others I have read have been as much of a delight to read as this one.

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Mason Smith
18:06 Mar 21, 2023

I always try to red the winning stories to hopefully better my own writing, but none of the others I have read have been as much of a delight to read as this one.

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Chitralekha Hore
15:21 Mar 18, 2023

Congratulations on your win! Loved every bit of it. John's character kind of reminded me of Kevin Arnold from The Wonder Years.

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Tom Bombadil
00:58 Mar 20, 2023

Thank you so much Chitralekha; thanks for taking the time to read!

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