With 11th grade, being a member of the photo crew, my school year started a week earlier with the teachers and not with the students. My relationships with photography were very tight. Also, there was no photography III class for me. I fell in with the Photograpy II class, but with a personal study.

Finally, school started up for everyone and I was now in the boring process of establishing myself in the new classes. One thing for sure, English class was going to take my favorite billing for this year because just as in sixth grade, Jean was again standing directly across from me. I couldn't help but look at her. In amazement, I thought to myself, "Oh my God, Mike. Your little girl lost her mosquito bites, she has breasts!"

I just kept looking and was glad that she kept her long wavy hair. She was still very much that little girl I fell in love with, just much taller. I then compared her to the image of her I had in the dream from sixth grade. I was amazed she was so very close to that image, if only her legs and arms were a bit more developed. I knew from her run in with me from last year, she had that strength.

Jean noticed me looking at her and became a bit embarrassed. She tried to ignore me at first; then became irritated and more agitated as time went on. I could not have cared less and ignored her concerns. Suddenly she became very angry and put forward her head in a mocking stare. I crossed my arms, stuck up my nose and continued to stare. She was shocked and now confused. I enjoyed her struggle of trying to figure out what to do next.

All of a sudden she gasped and started looking at me, smiling in a way that melted my heart. We just stood there, studying and admiring each other. I raised my eyebrows, scratched my chest and took in a deep breath. She blushed and looked me up and down and bobbed her head. What look was she greeted with? I had become hairy, with pumped up arms and legs, a broad back, defined and pronounced chest, long hair and I sported a full beard. I was still a freak in dress and spirit, but I no longer partied.

Finally seated, though we weren't sitting together and had people between us; we couldn't have been placed much better for a direct view of the other. Every day was a blessing and a beautiful sight as we tried to keep our glances at each other under wraps.

A few days later, she walked up to me before class, "M-Mike Mike. I, I, I have been learning si- sign language and and le-learned to spell you name. I-I'll show y-you during class." I told her that I am honored and will look for it in class. I am sure that it crossed her mind a few times that wasn't a good idea, I kept looking over to her embarrassment and the teachers ire.

At the end of class, I motioned to Jean and she responded with a silent, "What?" I then made wiggly gestures with my fingers and she once again signaled, "What?" I then pretended to do sign language and pointed to her, then myself and mouthed the word, "Name."

She then broke into a smile and with her one hand, held her pinky figure in the air and made a gesturing motion with the other hand's finger of twirling a string around it. I instantly became angry as pointed to her to say that wasn't true, but I stopped dead in my tracks. Once again, she was right! I licked my finger and drew it through the air, giving her that one.

I was amazed that I still had the exact same feelings for her, as I did the moment that I first saw her. I had to keep glancing over and she became embarrassed. I tried to stop, but couldn't and Jean finally looked at me directly and stuck her tongue out. Without hesitation, I cocked my head and made the motion of a French kiss. The shocked Jean turned away and wouldn't look at me the rest of the period. While I pinned away in my chair for overstepping my bounds and ruining my possible relationship with her. I decided not to look at her for the rest of the period.

I tried to keep myself at my word, but I started getting the feeling that Jean was now watching me. I ignored it until my neck was literally on fire. But every time I glanced, there was a very quick movement that seemed to come from her, but she still wouldn't look at me. I was baffled over this.

The teacher changed her lecturing position and I appeared to be watching her, but over a period of five minutes, had slowly moved my eyes toward Jean. Sure enough! I caught Jean in a dead stare, one that scared the hell out of me. Jean suddenly realized that I was looking at her and jumped.

When she looked back at me, she licked her finger and ran it through the air. I stuck my tongue out of her. She smiled and made the same motion as a French kiss, but quickly put her hand in front of her face and made a twisting motion, as if she had my tongue between her index finger and thumb. She had the most devilish expression on her face. We both laughed.

A week or two later, after track in Gym was football, and I was the last to be called to participate to be on a team. Our quarterback was also the school's quarterback and the ball was hiked and we ran out. Even totally out in the open, I had to convince him to throw me the ball. Once it finally did, I caught it and ran it in for a touchdown.

I was again called for the play, running out in the open, this time the ball was heading straight towards me. Just before I caught it, I saw Jean's face with a bright flash of light. Next I remember the team and the Gym teacher was standing over me asking me if I am alright. The quarter back expressed his dissatisfaction, "Leave the hot dogging to us football players, sheese try to catch the ball with your teeth!"

In English class that day, all I could do with Jean was look at her. She wasn't happy at this and became very angry when I started laughing. She pulled out her compact and looked at herself in the mirror. This made my laughter worse. She then bit her lip and sat with a glare looking at the thermostat and it was a wonder that it didn't burst into flames. I couldn't stop laughing to save my life!

When the bell rang, Jean got up and let it be known visually how pissed off she was with me, and I heard the words from Miss Rankin, "Mike, stay after class!"

"I want to know what was so funny in my class."

"Nothing."

"Nothing! Something sure the hell was. Now tell it to me."

"Well I heard this joke. There were these two guys ..." I would think of Jean face and burst out laughing. I tried again to recite the fictitious joke and again burst out laughing. I finally eroded Miss Rankin's patience after about the fifth round."

"I am giving you an extra homework assignment. Tonight, go to the dictionary and look up the word, 'humility.' And bring some with you tomorrow!"

The next day, before Jean walked into English class, I caught her and said, "Jean, I'm sorry for yesterday. In Gym class before I came, I was about to catch a football, saw your face and got knocked out with a blinding flash. I went to class and was looking at you to see how long it would be before I got struck by lightning."

That day, I noticed that Jean would just look at me and shake her head. I finally looked over and she went, "ZZZZZT." We were both barely holding back our laughter. I was very glad the good old days were back.

Not long after that, Jean walked up to me in the hall after class and gave me the most loving smile a man could get. When she went to say something, nothing but spit came out of her face and coated mine. With a horrid look, she ran away down the hall with her hand in front of her face. I thought it was funny, but knew that Jean was upset.

I tried to talk with her the next day, but Jean wouldn't have any of it. Period! I wanted to tell her that everything is all right, but she wasn't letting me. However, knowing Jean I came prepared. Halfway though class the teacher commented, "Michael, what is that on your head?"

"A spit shield ... I mean force field." I was lucky not to get hit with one of Jean's eyeballs.

"Take it off!"

"Miss Rankin, it's an art project."

"Well this isn't art class, take it off now!"

"Yes, mam." I looked at Jean, crossed myself and then took it off. Miss Rankin was standing there looking at me with her hands on her hips. Jean was blushingly embarrassed, but would glance over with a smile. I made a cylindrical helmut out of mylar from the art room.

Not every thing was so light hearted. One day after class, Jean walked up to me and said, "Mike, I need to talk with you. It's important. Mike. I'm sorry, never mind." She walked away.

The next day, she walked up again and said, "I do need to talk to you about something."

"Jean, talk to me about anything that you want to."

"No, Mike. I shouldn't be doing this." She walked off and I had to scratch my head.

A couple days later, "Mike, there's rumors about you."

"Ok, that's fine and I want everything to be right with us. Go ahead."

It drove me nuts that she'd just stand there, "I can't."

"Could you tell me who said them?"

"No, Mike that wouldn't be right."

I yelled, "God damn it Jean! I am more then happy to talk about them, but need to know what they are. Don't come up to me, if you can't tell me.  You're driving me nuts!" Jean felt sad and walked off.

After class, she dropped the hammer, "Mike, they say you're doing drugs."

I didn't need to know who. "Jean, I don't but I did in 9th grade, and you're probably hearing stories about that."

"What did you do?"

"I'll make that easy on you. I didn't do cocaine, heroine or PCP." Boy did that raise her eyebrows!

"Do you regret it?"

"No, I don't. To me it was nothing more then an experience that I enjoyed. But the mistake would have been in continuing it. It may have even helped me out."

She perked up, "How?"

"Well drugs do cause brain damage, and often it repairs itself. In 8th grade, I tested in the lowest 5th percentile for mechanical aptitude, which got me punished by my father. Last year, I tested in the upper 5th percentile in mechanical aptitude and abstract reasoning. That's what makes me so good with photography."

That answer seemed to impress her. "Would you do them again?"

I totally panicked, Jean to dressed like a freak girl and I knew that other of her family members did drugs. I trusted Jean's judgement and didn't want say anything that would keep us apart. Jean told me it's alright and rubbed my hand, but the truth had to come out, "No, Jean. I wouldn't."

She seemed to have a new found respect for me what she walked away, but about ten feet later I yelled, "Jean!" When she turned around, I added, "Drugs do affect you, please be careful for me. OK." She nodded her head.

I was glad at this change in Jean, with her being less shy. It crossed my mind that maybe she's flirting with other people, but I was glad that she was flirting with me. I didn't realize how not true that was until Gymnastics started.

I saw Jean waiting on her turn for an apparatus, but she was irritated this other boy was staring at her. He was a 9th grader, so it didn't take long for him to start acting like a total jackass in getting his friend's attention, pointing at Jean and making boob gestures. I stood there watching, wondering at what point I will walk over and punch him in the face.

Jean moved on him first, stood in front of him and stared him down like a drill instructor. First, the boy was uncomfortable and then he started to cry. At that point Jean yelled at him, "How do you like it? Huh. It's fun to be stared and gawked at, isn't it you jerk!" The boy ran off to the locker room.

The event not only told me how lucky I was, but how special it is for both Jean and myself. It did give me a twang of guilt looking at Jean the way I did, so I decided to apologize. I changed like a fireman in the locker room and waited outside for her to come out of the gym. I walked up and said, "Jean, I know that you don't like being looked at, but I look at you to. I just want to say that I am sorry, but I love what's on your inside just as much."

Jean's eyes sparkled, but she just grunted, "Hmmm."

I now knew that the feelings were love generated, and I had to step up, be man and ask her out. The very next day in class, I got her attention and motioned her to stay fter class, as I wanted to talk to her. She was collecting her books, but dawdling. I walked up to her and just started to shake and made the mistake of forbidding myself to do so.

The shaking got so much worse. Jean, I think, offered to help by extending her hand, but that made my shaking even worse, so she left leaving behind looks of genuine concern. After class, I basically went to the darkroom and had a temper tantrum.

The next day, Jean was prepared to give me another chance and even tried to make it easier for me to approach her. Well I wasn't shaking and even managed to say, "Jean ..." I got lightheaded, feeling my eyes going to the back of their sockets and collapsed with only two desks that kept me on my feet. I couldn't believe how hard this is for me. It didn't help that Jean had a pondering enjoyment over my predicament, the next day.

I had no plans to attempt asking her out again the next day, nor the day after. It was more like next week when I motioned that I wanted to talk to her and was simply amazed at the calm that I had. It was no problem for me to walk up to her. She was picking up her books and I said, "Jean." When she turned around, I saw her lovely lips and almost threw up on her. How close was it? I had bulging cheeks and she ducked, running out of the class room.

The next day, Jean had something to say about it all. As I walked in, she barked out my name, "Mike!" When I stopped and turned, she mockingly said, "I think your behavior towards me is totally ridiculous!" She then put her foot down,turned and walked straight to her desk. Walking though two rows of desks, chairs and people.

As I sat down, I saw the totally nervous Jean trying to fix everyone's desks. This time, Jean and I both licked our fingers and drew them through the air. We could only laugh, but a new thought entered my mind as I penned a note to ask Jean.

Just as the bell rang, I ran up to Jean's desk and she was shocked. I then talked to the girl beside her and Jean got very upset as I knew one of two things were going though her mind, "He's going to embarrass me, or he's going to ask her out to show me the way it is supposed to be done."

She was confused when I asked the girl a homework question and I banged my binder down on the desk. I had to just about put that binder though the desk before it got her attention and read the note, "Jean, if this is what we're like trying to go out, what is going to happen to the people of Parkville when we finally get it together and kiss."

Jean's mouth opened so much that I could hear the air rushing in before she shot from the class room like a bullet. I figured that once again, I screwed things up and don't have to worry about asking her out anymore.

The next day, the teacher decided to create discussion groups. I was now in the back of the room by the door and Jean was in the front by the opposite window. I was collecting my books to leave when suddenly, Jean put her head inches from mine and said with the most evil look on her face and a drawing raspy voice, "They'd Explode!" That was it! I laughed for a slit second and went to put it to the test. I wrapped my arms around her and finally gave her that kiss I always wanted to, but when I opened my eyes she was just about out the door.

These, "Discussion groups," were constantly changing, but it seemed to be only Jean and I moving around. We still sought each other out and carried on, having a real good time. It wasn't very long before the teacher asked both of us to remain after class.

"Mike and Jean, I'm putting you both back in your original seats. That's least distracting for the last of the class."

I replied, "Miss Rankin, if we're that much of a problem, why didn't you give us detention?"

"Oh now, wouldn't that be the perfect date for you two. Short of shooting you both or bringing in your parents to arrange a marriage, I don't think there is any way to solve your problem."

"Miss Rankin, we not even going out yet." I shot back.

"No, but how I love watching you try. You're dismissed."

Walking out, Jean finally added as he looked at me and whispered, "We're pathetic!"

Around Christmas, both us ended up in a genuine study group.  She was sitting in front of me and I latched on every detail of her that I could. It was time and I was ready. I said, "Jean, You're the best woman in this world and I want you to so much be the one going out with me. Can we get together?"

She looked totally confused, so I repeated. I couldn't believe it, she was still confused. Am I saying anything wrong? I decided to pay more attention in my next attempt. I was horrified and embarrassed that my mouth was moving, but no sound was coming out. I started to cry, but Jean put my hand in hers and started rubbing it.

It felt so wonderful and I knew those were the best words that a man could ever hear, provided she was making sound. She tried again and we silently laughed and shrugged our shoulders. At opposite end of the classroom, I motioned with sign language that one day, we will be together! She nodded in agreement.