I remember this! Great story, Sharron. I love the boy's verdict on his teacher - 'useless information' and 'like a lame juggler'. Terrific! He's a good lad, though - he didn't skip class. Fingers crossed that Julie's waited for him....
At that age and hormonal level, life is overwhelmed by drama and angst. I still remember the absolute emotional devastation of not getting a phone call from "him".
He did the right thing by going to class, hope Julie recognizes that. I was an honor student and most of it was "useless information". No not to be a teenager again. . .
Although I wouldn't mind being thirty again .... but smarter. A lot smarter. Thanks Sharon. We have the same first name. Sharon went out of fashion in the 1950s. I am guessing we may be of the same era..?
I know, right? At 17, I could mope around at death's door for three whole days, and then finally "he" would talk to me in the corridor next to the lockers and I would be in absolute HEAVEN. Emotions run rampant, it's all non-stop drama.
Unforgettable, the way those hormones ruled our young lives. We were totally out of control of our emotions and desires. I remember well the urgency of , well, everything!
That story brought back memories. I remember sitting through my high school Algebra class - the last one of the day - hoping Dan would be waiting for me at my locker.
Waiting for the bell of freedom, when the torture was over, and sweet Julie will be there. I can feel that boy's sweaty palms, and his racing heart! Oh, puppy love!!
As I read it occurred to me I could have been that teacher, droning on and on about some "useless" fact that seemed fascinating only to me. And the poor captive students sat, impatiently, watching the clock move like molasses on a hot day. Nicely captured, Sharron! xo
I felt that way, too, as a teacher of ESL to adults. I LOVED English and I LOVED teaching it. To my immigrants, though, it was only one more hurdle to jump in their harried lives... It is all POV. Thanks CJ
Ah, boy in love. Lost last brain cell. )))
Poor thing. Testosterone poisoning...?
No prescription for that. bummer. only time.
I remember this! Great story, Sharron. I love the boy's verdict on his teacher - 'useless information' and 'like a lame juggler'. Terrific! He's a good lad, though - he didn't skip class. Fingers crossed that Julie's waited for him....
At that age and hormonal level, life is overwhelmed by drama and angst. I still remember the absolute emotional devastation of not getting a phone call from "him".
Cool that he did go to class. I hope Julie waited for him.
A teens life is SO hard. ha ha ha. Thanks James Ron. I loved your latest tale.
He did the right thing by going to class, hope Julie recognizes that. I was an honor student and most of it was "useless information". No not to be a teenager again. . .
Although I wouldn't mind being thirty again .... but smarter. A lot smarter. Thanks Sharon. We have the same first name. Sharon went out of fashion in the 1950s. I am guessing we may be of the same era..?
Ah, the memories of anticipation of a first love and how slow time can be.
I know, right? At 17, I could mope around at death's door for three whole days, and then finally "he" would talk to me in the corridor next to the lockers and I would be in absolute HEAVEN. Emotions run rampant, it's all non-stop drama.
Been there! Ain’t we all?
Unforgettable, the way those hormones ruled our young lives. We were totally out of control of our emotions and desires. I remember well the urgency of , well, everything!
That story brought back memories. I remember sitting through my high school Algebra class - the last one of the day - hoping Dan would be waiting for me at my locker.
Waiting for the bell of freedom, when the torture was over, and sweet Julie will be there. I can feel that boy's sweaty palms, and his racing heart! Oh, puppy love!!
As old as we are, memories of those overwhelming teenage emotions are deeply imprinted.
As I read it occurred to me I could have been that teacher, droning on and on about some "useless" fact that seemed fascinating only to me. And the poor captive students sat, impatiently, watching the clock move like molasses on a hot day. Nicely captured, Sharron! xo
I felt that way, too, as a teacher of ESL to adults. I LOVED English and I LOVED teaching it. To my immigrants, though, it was only one more hurdle to jump in their harried lives... It is all POV. Thanks CJ
Oh how many such hours have I spent in classes like this. I hope Julie waits too.
These poor angst-ridden, insecure, lustful teens. I wouldn't go back to that for anything. Thanks, Sue!
Yep same era. The best of times and the worst of times.
Ah yes, those long school days of watching the clock tick in reverse, thinking about nothing other than ...
Well told, Sharron!
Hormones Rule! You remember how it was. Thank you Nathan for going back into the Archive. Hardly anyone does that!
Pleasure. (I'm working through my overflowing Substack inbox and trying to catch up on a load of the reads I've missed over the last few weeks!)