Back home, I was doing photographic prints at night and working for Mrs. Fast during the day. From her home, I could look out the window at the building's basement where I used to work for the print shop that was now a dance studio.

What I was watching, was becoming a possibility of a photographic adventure of an idea that Mr. Schwarz and I had discussed doing. I knew the lady was also living on the first floor of the building and when she stepped out of the basement area in her leotards. The idea and my feet immediately took flight to her.

Freddie was also fine for a few minutes as he simply laid in a hospital bed located in the dining room, and I slipped out to meet her, asked her to model for me and told her my idea. "I wondered if they make striped leotards."

She looked strangely at me, "Well, they do."

"I'm a photography student at Parkville Senior High, and I wonder if you would consider modeling for me, in striped leotards. I would be willing to pay for them. I also live up the street so it would be more convenient for you to come over. I will also give you copies of the prints for your use."

"You know, I would like that and will do so." We immediately made arrangements for the shoot. I had to make a background and she had to pick up the striped leotards. To make the background, I purchased a couple of cans of spray paint and planed on using the plywood base in the basement at home since we no longer used it for the pool.

I was in the process of spraying it when my father commented, "Hey Mike, most graffiti artists don't practice at home."

"Funny dad, I am making a background for a shoot I am doing. The model will be here later today." Dad didn't believe me, but at the appointed time, she knocked on the door as was standing there in her striped leotards. I was not only aroused for a split second, I was instantly hard.

I was rather embarrassed, since something like this never happened to me. What was worse, she seemed to instantly notice. I figured it meant the shoot was over, before it started and told her, "If you don't want to model for me, I understand."

She sort of giggled and said, "Nope, everything's OK and I have no problems with anything."

I thought to myself, "Well, I sure have a problem!" I took her downstairs into the basement and Dad greeted her with, "Holy hell! You're Mike's model?" My impromptu studio was actually out in the basement as I needed the garage door open for the light.

Other then the fact that my moving around was debilitated by the Bas Relief that filtered through my jeans. It was a professional shoot and I still managed to keep my mind on the job of photographing her. I think my situation was a source of amusement for her.
I credit the model for keeping the shoot a success, since it was the fact that she was a lady and maintained a certain, grace over my demise that it worked out so well. My father was further embarrassing me as he was constantly moving back and forth and checking things out.

After the shoot and the model left, Dad walked up to me and said, "I don't really agree with you spending all of your time with photography, but I am starting to see what you get out of it."

I had the images done and showed them to her, and I let her pick out what she liked. She didn't care for the high contrast work, as she mentioned that it made her appear to have hair on her arms. I also found out the story of what happened to the print shop and she mentioned that her mother is coming over and I could meet her if I wished. I completely shied out from meeting her.

There was to be one other last minute shot. I walked by the bathroom door when my budding sister was looking in the mirror with a towel wrapped around her. I immediately got my camera and started shooting. It was think first, and suffer the consequences later, luckily my sister didn't take exception and simply ignored me.

With camera in hand, I went downstairs and told my mother what I just did, leaving it up to her to destroy the film. Mom simply said, "No, at this point, it's not necessary, but I would like you to show me the photographs."

I contacted them, printed my chosen one out and handed it all to my mother; the whole kit and caboodle. Mom liked them, saying, "No everything's fine. You know, you're a pretty good artist, Mike. I don't find them objectionable. In fact you really captured the moment of a girl turning into a woman very well."

It was an image of my sister standing in front of a pedestal sink, with a towel covering up her front, but leaving her back and butt exposed, as she looks into the mirror. There is only one other picture that I admire, that had the theme of a girl coming of age and was proud I was able to capture a moment like that.

It was now time for school to start and like the year before, Mr. Schwarz picked me up the week before the students would attend. It was the usual house cleaning and get things ready affair. I noticed that the year book had set up for the reshoots and the year book girl was in charge.

I walked up to her and said, "Boy, I'm glad that I caught up with the reshoot! Put me down as I have to go home and get my good clothes on."

"Just forget it!" I was shocked. "If you weren't here to have your picture taken when you were supposed to, you're not going to be photographed for the yearbook." While pissed and wanting to argue, I walked away hurt from the lack of consideration.

Another event had me a bit miffed, but it was my own fault. With the darkroom set up and working, I was putting on the finishing touches to the prints I didn't get to. I had a lot of dry mounting to catch up on.

Mr. Schwarz and I got together to work on my senior showcase exhibition and one of the one's he wanted to put up was the print of my sister. "Now there's a good one to display."

I loved that photograph, but at the same time, I didn't want it to be exhibited for the entire school to see. Not yet learning from the lesson with the way I handled the KKK cards in 9th grade, which I really didn't want to print in the first place. I didn't want to voice my objections directly and appear to be weak in Mr. Schwarz's mind.

"Mr. Schwarz, the school isn't going to go for having that one displayed."

With a, "You might be right," we headed to the principal's office, with my portfolio in hand. Mr. Pfeiffer listened to Mr. Schwarz's proposal for including the image of my sister into my senior showcase display. I ended up feeling like I wasn't even there.

Mr. Pfeiffer wanted to look at the rest of my portfolio and intently, thumbed through it. Placing all of the mounted prints on his desk, he leaned back into the chair and responded, "Mike, one of the things that I admire the most of your portfolio is the sublime erotic quality that many of the photographs have."

"Now, I can see why you would think that the school wouldn't display the image that is in question, but I see it fitting into your senior showcase very well. I like the theme of it to be this, that 'Avant-garde Eroticism' of yours you do so well."

Great! If I haven't been alienated before, this one will get me hated by all of the girls. That was the only thought that came to mind. We selected and placed all of the photographs, but my display held for me a surprise.

After school started many of my female classmates said that they not only liked the display, but thanked me for thinking of them. Among the photographs was our entire Trail Crew, mooning the camera and the photograph of our Albuquerque fling with the lone member, sleeping sitting on the toilet.

The Girl that I wrote to from New Mexico was working in the front office when she spied me, and gave me a million dollar smile, but that was it. It became quickly apparent that she was dating another guy and otherwise, didn't even have the time of day for me. No big deal in my mind.

I once found myself with Miss Rankin for 12th grade English class and Jean wasn't in it. What disappointed me was that she wasn't in any of the classes and last year being what it was with us, I had hoped for another chance at asking her out.

A couple of weeks into the senior year, it was the middle of class when I stepped out of Mr. Schwarz's classroom and saw Jean walking down, the front hall approaching my exhibit. I wondered what she would think about my photography so I prayed to God for invisibility. That may seem hokey, but that was the only way that I could sneak up on her.

By the time she was at my display, I was quietly standing in front of a support column. What I saw next broke my heart. Her eyes bugged out and mouth dropped, then she moved in close to examine them, but not for the artistic aspects. I thought to myself, "Oh my God! Jean thinks that I am having sex with my models."

Jean turned to walk down the hall and walked it, pigeon toed and with her head down. I knew that she was crying and wanted to walk up and talk to her, but I was afraid that if I did, she would get more upset and run away.

I was hoping for an opportunity not only to explain my photography, but to include her in the process that she could rest assured that nothing was happening with any of the models. Despite this idea coming into my mind, I was afraid that this bullshit photography of mine, kissed away any chances of her wanting to be with me.

I was thinking of ideas over the weekend to include Jean into things. Around 2:00pm I was ironing and looking out of the window, I saw Jean and another boy from our class walking up the street. I was simply amazed at myself, as not getting my act together and going with her, it was the moment that I dreaded and figured that I would be hurt, angry and jealous.

I was amazed that I didn't have any such feelings, but the one that I always wanted Jean to have the best, even if her choice didn't mean me. What happened next totally floored me, she pointed to the house, and though I am not a lip reader, knew it was a matter of fact conversation.

I never thought in a million years that Jean would care to know where I lived. Being something unexpected, I wondered just how many times she walked past my house in the hopes I would catch her.

I thought to myself, "Well one's thing's for sure, you can't ask her out ... Hey dummy? She's only dating, that shouldn't be like she's married. Did she tell you that she didn't want to be with you? No, she only said that it isn't the right time."

"She never let you off of the hook with a rejection. With your feelings for her, she at least owes you that. But time to be with her is running though your fingers, best get off our your ass and ask her out."

I decided right then and there, to seek Jean out and ask to date her. No excuses for not trying and it's time for, "Yes," or "No," to be the only acceptable answers for me. When school started, I just did that, I looked for Jean to ask her out. By Tuesday, I was clamoring for the opportunity and frustrated with looking for Jean everywhere, and finding her nowhere. I researched her class schedule at the office.

Even with the schedule, I was not finding her. Wednesday, I was completely beside myself. Thursday turned me into a complete basket case and I was totally out of my mind, fearing that something bad had happened.

I convinced myself that something was horribly wrong, like Jean must be sick and planned to visit her house after school, but by the end of the day, I decided it best to give Friday a chance and go to her house Saturday if I can't find her. At this point, even if Jean wasn't home, I would appeal to Jean's parents for help, or at least in getting an answer. I was completely out of ideas and at wits end.

Friday morning was like every other day. I was blessed with two good photo crew helpers who were lower classmen and the work always got done. For whatever reason, I decided to take the trays of photographic print chemicals to the darkroom that was located in the front hall by science.

I was sad my responsibilities with photography were taking me away from looking for Jean. Totally mentally fatigued over the matter, I bowed my head and said a prayer to God, "Dear God. I ask for the courage, the opportunity and the words to ask Jean out. I really want to be with her."

With that done, I stepped out of the door and Jean was right in front of me, but there was a problem. She was headed into the girl's lavatory which was eight feet away. I only had the time to jump three feet and smack her in the back of the head with my hand.

She turned around with a surprised expression and I belted out, "Jean, you're beautiful and I want you to model for me." There was a loud pop like a .22 caliber gun going off and Jean disappeared, which registered confusion in my mind. I had to step back three feet to see her doubled over, grabbing her stomach and looking at me beet red with sparkling eyes and a V-shaped smile.

But she said, "No."

"Jean, I'm serious. I feel that photography is a wonderful way to get together and do something. Besides, you are beautiful Jean."

"No, Mike. I'm sorry." She then slipped into bathroom leaving me totally stymied. I thought about it and I just had to ask, one more time. I walked right into the girls bathroom and totally surprised all of the girls who were trying to throw their cigarettes into the trashcan, but didn't seem to have a game plan if a male student walked in instead of a teacher.

I was happy to see the girls as they were all friends of Jean. "Jean, are you sure?"

She really hesitated on answering it, but quietly said, "Yes," and nodded her head.

Jean was especially surprised and caught completely off guard. I planned to get Jean my reluctant models speech of, "I am sorry that you didn't agree to model with me. But please tell me if you change your mind. Very often my shoots are based specifically for you and would love to still have you participate."

Instead of that speech what came out towards Jean was this impassioned plea, " For Christ's sake Jean, can't we do something together? I love you!" Jeans eyes bulged, her mouth dropped and tears came streaming down her face. She immediately covered her open shaking mouth and ran into a stall.
I felt like absolute shit, but I was glad that it happened this way. On the inside of the stall, she had just sat down when I heard the toilet paper being pulled from it squeaky roll. I walked over and knelt beside Jean in her stall.

"Jean, I really didn't mean to say it. Not that I don't love you, it's just that I wanted to save it for a better time, a better place, with my high school ring. But how long have I said it? I loved you ever since I first met you and I know that you care for me."

"You only said that it isn't the right time for us to be together. Well I am here to tell you that now is the right time. Come on Jean, let's do something and be together. Things will work out fine, you'll see. If not, then let me go."

I stood up and looked at all of the other girls, they just stood there, all were blushing and holding long bent cigarette ashes between their fingers. I gave them a, "Job well done," look and walked out. It wasn't until I was back in the hall where I had a, "What the hell did you just do?" thought.

My former chemistry teacher saw me and immediately walked up to me with his finger pointed in the air and went, "Uh huh," and immediately walked away. I made it to the turn in the hall and suddenly instantly over came, found myself running with my hand over my face and through Mr. Schwarz's classroom to the darkroom.

As soon as the door closed, my immediate thought was, "Will I finally score with Jean." At that I totally busted out laughing as it didn't matter to me. I felt it would be the greatest thing if Jean and I actually spend time together. Scoring with her wasn't important as I felt it would be greatest if I left that decision up to her.

I wondered if asking her had been a mistake, but decided that though it took a life of its own, things would work out for the best. I wondered what we would do which really no longer mattered to me as if it pleased Jean, than it would please me. I did hope that she would at least as an observer become involved with photography. I somehow felt that she could only improve my abilities and keep me pointed in the right direction.

I wondered if she would make a good wife and what it would take for me to marry her. I laughed at this question, as I already knew that it was who and the way that she always was that I had already decided, even from sixth grade that I wanted to be with her.

I wondered what her demands would be to satisfy a relationship for her and the only thing that came to mind was, "Be there for me." It would now mean that it would be Jean first and if all I could do is pump gas to make that possible, I would do it. While I didn't know how Jean felt about my photography, but I hoped that she would support me and I think that she would.

I wondered what Jean would do and strangely, I saw her running a little shop, like a florist's shop. Not that she would step out of her bubble too much, but that she would extend it in a way as to touch other people.

I thought about Jean as a mother and I felt that there she would excel. Though it scared me to actually imagine a family, I could not only see it but believed it would be a loving and nurturing one. In so many ways, Jean had the ingrained qualities that were necessary for it all and felt that with her, I had the best chances for a loving relationship like my father and mother had.

I realized that Jean may think much differently and still say, "No," but that didn't bother me. If Jean felt that she had a better chance with someone else, then I wanted her to take it. All I now cared about is Jean being happy and if I wasn't in the plans. Then so be it.

Last, I was hit with a thought that totally produced a loathing in me, "It's still not the right time for us to be together." This thought made me cringe and become angry. No more unrequited love. No more, "It's not the right time." I made the decision that I will give her three weeks, than on purpose, move on.

I knew now that the ball was completely in Jean's court and that she had to return it. It was up to Jean and it was up to God. I now gave myself nothing to do, but patiently wait for a few weeks.