Welcome to a series of stories that basically make up my autobiography. It’s not entirely thorough, but I’ll do the best I can with the memories locked away inside my head. Could be therapeutic for me. Could be humorous for you. Either way, enjoy…
Previously on Life Story… I took driver’s ed from a creepy guy that insisted we all call him coach. I failed the test the first time and I think I owe it all to the creepy coach.
So should I just pick up with the 11th grade? Sounds good enough, I guess.
Junior year was a lot like my other high school years. Meaning I just didn’t care that much. Sure, I still applied myself just enough to get by, but that was all. I got by. I was still in the same old classes with the same old people. Something else that stayed the same, I was just as social as ever.
That may not be true, though. This was the first year in school that I was invited to a real party. It wasn’t one of those parties that you see in the movies, where parents have taken off and there’s a beer bong floating around and it eventually gets broken up by the police. No, the parents were there and it was kind of subdued. Honestly, I always though that the only reason I was invited was because I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
I was sitting in class, minding my own business, hanging out at a table with several of my classmates. And these were some of the more popular kids. I’ve mentioned before, I was never popular. So, really, just about anyone, in my eyes, was more popular than me. They were talking about a party on the weekend. And the girl that was throwing it looked at me and said I should come. She didn’t have to invite me. She was just one of those genuinely nice people, a rare find among the popular high school kids.
Otherwise, socially, there isn’t much else to talk about. I took a girl to a Garth Brooks concert. One of those first and last dates. I think I asked her out again, but got the “we’re just friends” line. Which was fine with me. I don’t remember if I went to the Homecoming dance that year. I may have gone, just because I thought it was one of those things that I should do because I was in high school. However, I know I skipped the prom. I didn’t ask anyone to go with me, so I wasn’t turned down. I just didn’t go. No big loss.