Starch and Cope

A short story.

It was near the summer of my sophomore year of high school. I was working at Ryan's restaurant in Laurens and made a lot of new friends. On weekends, my brother would tease me as he would go off to ride four-wheelers with his friends, knowing I would be seating another group of four while he rode around carefree in the mud.
On my days off I did find time to go with him on occasion, and I spent most days at my cousin Heath's house, eating Caesar salad and watching Eddie Murphy Raw. Being with Heath, I naturally had to see his friends when they stopped by for a visit, and that's when I met the other Heith. We'll call him Keith, so there's no confusion.
Keith was tall, slim, and had a jaw line you could cut your finger on. He was dark, mysterious (meaning he was shy and didn't talk to girls) and rough around the edges. He had all the qualities an adolescent girl is looking for if she isn't into the football team or prep squad.

I decided I wanted to know more about him. I was smitten from day one, he was all I talked about and I think this is what eventually drove Heath crazy. Finally he gave in, and told me he'd mention it to Keith. Of course, having to wait drove me wild, so I took matters into my own hands and carved a note on the passenger side door of Heath's old Ford truck. I knew Keith may see it, and at least it would get the ball rolling.
School finally started and we were juniors. I think my underarms endured tremendous amounts of deodorant in the next few weeks as I waited for any sign from Keith.

I found myself rushing to school to try and get behind him in the parking line, just so I might have the chance to park beside him. Sometimes I wonder how my heart survived such stress each day, it almost beat out of my chest every time I saw his truck. What was this power he had over me? I was completely and hopelessly lost for this boy.

Finally Keith found the courage to say a couple of words to me. I was congratulating myself on parking beside him and tried very hard to play cool as I closed my car door. (Keeping my arms down just in case.) Keith said, "Is that true what you wrote on Heaths' door?" I probably said something really corny, but it was a start. He noticed me!

I think my happiness lasted the next nine weeks, I smiled all the time. Each morning when I woke up, the first thing I thought about was Keith. And I would smile. The goofy, not quite there, smile of a teenager who thinks they're in love. After weeks of waiting for Keith to talk to me or call me, I took matters into my own hands..again. I was possessed with some incredible motivation and drive to make this guy understand how much I liked him.

The school bell rang and the seniors headed to their cars, I saw Keith ahead of me, so naturally I bolted to catch up, never letting him know I was behind. I had to think fast, so the first thing I saw was the indention of a dip can in his back pocket, there was a faded circle from having so many Cope cans stuffed into those jeans that there was a permanent 'mark' tattooed on his butt. Immediately the body snatchers caught up with me and before I knew what was happening I watched as my own hand reached out and grabbed the can from inside that tight pocket and held it high in the air. (I realized this only after I congratulated myself on actually getting to touch his butt.) Keith spun around and asked what the hell I was doing, and if I remember correctly I said something corny...again.

From that moment, Keith understood that he wasn't dealing with the typical high school crush. He began to say hello if we passed in the hall, and the day came when Heath and I called him, giving Keith the added confidence to call me back. After that, we were inseparable. He ruined my life, and I ruined his in the best way possible.

That was ten years ago. Ten years ago I went for a tough guy with tight pants, and the only thing that's changed is the pants. Happy Anniversary Keith. I mean Heith.