The Hallmark Salute

A story of high school crushes, semi-formal dances, and the fine line between friendship and something more.

The Hallmark Salute

 

“Being in love is a crazy thing to do,” Jessie said, eating her French fries.  “It’s almost like a form of socially acceptable madness.”

I nodded in agreement, putting ketchup on my burger and silently reminding myself to write that down the first chance I got. We were talking about Valentine’s Day, and how we’d be spending it “on the market,” as our friend Jeremy put it. “You two should go out.” He said once. Jessie laughed, I buried my hands in my pockets.

“Then again, it would probably be nice to have someone to spend time with. Even though it is a Hallmark holiday.” She sipped her milk, started in on her burger. “What do you think, Bryce?” she asked.

“Well I’m sure Hallmark is a wonderful company.” I started. She threw a fry at me, and we both started laughing. “I mean what do you think about Valentine’s Day?” Her eyes sparkled subtly, like they usually did when we talked about things that didn't matter. “I don’t know.” I said, “I never had any experience with something like that.” I had always been single; she’d already had a couple boyfriends.

“That’s alright,” she said, taking a bite out of her burger, “You’ll get there eventually.” I nodded. “Hopefully sooner than later.” I said, circling a fry in my ketchup, feeling her eyes watch me as I did.

 

I have had a crush on Jessica Platt since the seventh grade. It had always been a childish crush, really. I didn't understand that how that kind of stuff worked, and I’d made sure it didn't get in the way of our close friendship. I’d only realized that I was in love with Jesse at the beginning of our senior year. She’s almost a year younger than me, but she’s also mature, like someone who’d grow up to be a doctor or a lawyer or something. And she’s beautiful; wavy blonde hair, freckles delicately complimenting her face, green eyes that sparkle constantly. Unlike with her maturity and compassion, which apparently only I’d seemed to notice, a lot of the guys in school noticed her beauty. I can’t tell how many times I’d seen guys check her out in the hallway.

She noticed too, but she didn't do anything about it. I mean, she didn't usually encourage them or led them on or anything, but she’s never protested. I’m not complaining about it either; it’s none of my business as far as I’m concerned. But sometimes I’d see some regular jerk stare at her butt as she’s walking to Chemistry, and I’d get a twinge of jealousy.

A whole bunch of regular jerks had been asking her to the semi-formal Valentine’s Dance, but she’d turned them all down. Meanwhile, I hadn't gotten up the courage to ask her myself. I was afraid she might laugh like she did when Jeremy brought it up, but I wouldn't admit it. Jeremy’s actually one of the only ones who knows that I’m very okay with his suggestion, which is only because I told him after he’d mentioned it and Jessie had left. “Dude! That’s a great idea!” he’d said, with much enthusiasm. “You two could go on a date, and I could be your driver!” He kept going when he saw the look of horror on my face. “Don’t worry, we could rent a limo and I could just close that little window behind me so you guys could make out in privacy.” I flipped him off, our custom greeting, and he howled with laughter.
                But when I found him after lunch and told him about asking her to the dance �" a week away �" he was all seriousness. “Just do it, Bryce. What’s the worst that can happen?”

“She could say no.” I replied. He gave me a look that said really? C’mon.

“Well there’s only one way to find out.” The bell rang, a shrill, siren-like pitch. We were late to English. “How do you think I got that date with April Harris?”

“Is this the same April Harris that rejected you on the ride back from said date and told you never to talk to her again?” I asked.

“That’s beside the point,” he said as he gave me the one finger salute, “Besides, that was only because I forgot my wallet and she had to pay for dinner, which I swear was not my fault.” We stopped just short of the English classroom. “The point is: You’re not gonna know until you try. She could surprise you, bro.”

I highly doubted that, since she had already started talking to me about her guy problems, which is the first sign that you’re spiraling dizzily towards the “friend-zone” at an increasing rate. “Maybe,” I said, not wanting to take Jeremy’s advice for granted, “I hope you’re right.”

He slapped me on the back. “C’mon. When have I ever been wrong about stuff like that?” He stopped me before I could get a word out. “Don’t answer that.”

 

                Audrey Cary, Jessie’s best friend, and the only other person I’d told about the situation, had something else to suggest. “I’d sleep on it. Give it the weekend.” She whispered. We were in the library, where you had to be pretty quiet anyway, so we had to be extra careful no one was eavesdropping on us. Just as a precaution, we pretended to be working on a project together so no one would get the wrong idea. “You know I ship this really hard, Bryce, but you've got to be careful. Don’t just jump in and ask. I know Jessie; she wouldn't like that, especially from someone as close to her as you.” It made sense, but I wasn't sure. “What if some other guy asks her before I do, and she actually says yes?” Audrey gave a hint of smugness before saying, “Trust me, I don’t think she will.”

                 “What makes you so sure?” I asked. She gave me a smile. “I’m her best friend. You don’t think she tells me about her love life?” I shrugged. “Yeah, but don’t you think it’s kind of ridiculous that her best friend might like her as more than a best friend? It’s so cliche.”

                The bell rang, same long beep, almost like the sound dial up makes. Audrey got up, put her bag over her shoulders and headed for the door. “I don’t believe that at all,” she said, letting the door close slowly behind her, “and neither does Jessie.” Before I had time to fully understand what she meant, the door had closed.

 

                I did what Audrey said, but I didn't enjoy it. The whole weekend I waited, jumping at each text I got, hoping it was from Jessie, thinking about what Audrey had said and what it might have meant; did it mean that Jessie knew that I liked her and she liked me back? Was she waiting for me to ask her first? Or maybe she didn't feel the same way and she just didn't want to hurt my feelings? I thought I could handle whatever answer she gave me at that point, yes or no. It was the not knowing that got me so wired up.

                When Monday finally came, Jeremy found me in the hall before I could find Jessie. “How’d it go man?” he asked, eagerly, “What did she say?”

                I shrugged. “I haven’t asked her yet. Audrey told me to wait the weekend.”

                He looked at me like I had just punched a baby in the mouth. “You what?” I opened my locker, stuffed my backpack in, and spotted Jessie walking out of the cafeteria. “Since when do you ever listen to Audrey? She doesn't know anything!”

                “She’s her best friend!” I said, not looking at him, but waving at Jessie. She smiled and waved back, and started to walk towards us. “Play it cool, please.” I warned, “This could go both ways.”

                “Yeah, well let’s hope it goes your way, man.” Jeremy muttered, suddenly remembering that thing he left in that place. Jessie came over and gave me a hug. “Jeremy seems kind of… edgy today, doesn’t he?” I shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s Monday, he could just be tired.” Smooth, playing it cool.

                We started walking to the gym, talking about our weekend (“Boring,” Jessie said, yawning, “I did scholarship applications all day Saturday, which is about as fun as a root canal, which was equally awful, believe me.” “I just sat around.” I said, hoping it didn't sound as creepy as what I was actually doing.), when Jessie suddenly stopped and said, “Hey, I have a question.”

                I looked at her, a perfect mask of collective coolness, while on the inside, I was shaking like a leaf. “I think I have a spare answer floating around somewhere.” After she stopped laughing, I continued, “What’s up?”

                She didn't look me fully in the eye, like she was nervous herself. “Well, the Valentine’s dance is coming up,” (sudden heart palpitations) “and I was wondering if maybe you’d like to go? With me? I mean, it’s perfectly okay if you don’t, I’m sure there are plenty of girls who�"“

                “Yes.” I said, a little too eagerly. She looked up and smiled, a little wider than usual. “Uhh, yeah, I’d love to.” I stumbled, trying to recover. She smiled again. “Okay, great!” she said, sounding relieved, and we walked the rest of the way to gym class in an awkward, beautiful silence.

 

                I knocked on Jessie’s door at 7:42, eighteen minutes before the dance started. Her mom answered with a warm smile and a hug. “Why, don’t you look handsome!” she beamed, noticing my pink dress shirt, black pants, and white bow tie. “Mark!” she called to Mr. Platt, “Get the camera! Sit down, please! Jessie’s just getting ready. She’s been talking about the dance all week. You really do look great, Bryce!”

                My face turned as red as Jessie’s dress and quickly went pale when I saw her in it. It fitted to her body, while still looking classy, and her nails and handbag matched. He golden hair was curled and free, bouncing on her shoulders as she walked down the stairs. She’d also put on lipstick, too; I’d never seen her wear lipstick before.

                “You look great.” I said, cursing myself for not saying “you look beautiful” instead. She smiled and twirled, much to Mrs. Platt’s delight. “Oh my goodness, you two look so precious! Mark, where’s the camera!” Mr. Platt walked out of the kitchen, camera in his hand. “I've got it, I've got it! How are you, son?” he said, shaking my hand.

                “I’m doing pretty well, sir.” I replied (the biggest understatement of the year.), “How about you?”

                “Well, I’ll be a lot better if you can get her back by midnight. I don’t want to have to use my shotgun, alright?” He gave me a wink and rustled my hair. “Oh, stop it!” Mrs. Platt scolded, “We don’t even own a gun!” she reassured me, although I already had a feeling he was joking. Jessie wasn't in on the joke. “Oh my god, stop,” she said, covering her face with her hands. “You do this all the time!” she looked genuinely embarrassed, much to her parents’ delight; they were cackling like hyenas.

                “Alright, both of you stand by the door.” Mrs. Platt ordered. “Bryce, you look all wooden! Loosen up a little!” she said, noticing that my arm was awkwardly placed on her shoulder. Jessie took it and moved it to her waist.

                She placed her head on my shoulder, and I wouldn't have been surprised if she’d heard my heart thumping against my chest. Her dad gave me a knowing smile, her mom looked like she was about to cry, and Jessie smiled wider than I’d ever seen before. Maybe Audrey and Jeremy were right; maybe I did have a chance.

                “God, I’m so sorry,” she said as we were getting in the car, “my parents always embarrass me when I’m going out with people, especially guys. It’s ridiculous.” She checked her makeup in the mirror. I didn't think she needed to. I started the car, pulled out of the driveway. “That’s alright. I think your parents are a riot.” She laughed. “Yeah, that’s what most of my friends say. I just think they like embarrassing me.” She seemed lost in thought. “But I guess that’s just what parents are for.”

                I nodded. “Well, I guess they need to enjoy themselves too.” She laughed again, a small bark, almost. “You could be right.”

                We reached the school at 7:58. People were starting to show up, and a handful had already been there, putting up decorations with the Art Club, waiting for their dates to show up; some were still trying to find dates. We could hear the music blasting from the auditorium when we walked in, over to the sign-in desk. Tickets were five dollars.

                “No, that’s okay,” I said when I saw Jessie reach for her handbag, “I’ll take care of it.”

                “Are you sure?” she asked, guiltily, “I can buy my own, it’s okay.” I blew that off. “Absolutely not, it’s no problem at all.”

                “Well then I’m gonna get you a rose down there, then.” she said, putting her wallet back in her handbag, smiling. I held out my arm, which she took dramatically, and we strolled down the hallway to the auditorium, looking like the king and queen of this Hallmark holiday.

 

                Jeremy and Audrey were already down there waiting for us. Jeremy, who usually looked like a college kid who needed to de-fumigate his dorm room, cleaned up nicely, wearing a red polo shirt and khakis. Audrey wore a pink skirt and leggings with hearts on them. Jeremy flashed me the salute and Audrey gave Jessie a hug when they saw us.

                “Since you guys are here together, we decided to go together too.” Audrey said. “You know,” Jeremy chimed in, “just to keep things in balance. And because I offered to get dinner afterwards.” He gave me a wink. We went to the table where they were selling roses, Jessie and Audrey got Jeremy and I one (“Because he’s being a gentleman for once, I figure I should something nice for him.” Audrey explained.), and we went to the dance floor.

                School dances usually stopped being cool around eighth grade, which is why there were so many middle-schoolers dancing, but there were a handful of sophomores and juniors around. We danced and hung out with the older crowd, jokingly complaining about how today youth is out of control. “Kids today, I tell you what,” Jeremy yelled as “Turn Down For What” blared, “they just don’t make ‘em like they used to anymore.”

                When the music got too loud (or too awful, for when Justin Bieber or Meghan Trainor came on), we all sat in the lounge outside the auditorium, eating cupcakes from the bake sale, and just talk; about the History project that was due on Monday (that nobody had even started), about our hopes for the senior trip (A nice beach and boardwalk, maybe Ocean City?), and about our hopes for the future (Audrey wants to be a veterinarian, Jessie wants to be a lawyer, and Jeremy just wants to make it to graduation).

                Then a slow song came, Extreme’s “More Than Words,” on. Jessie and I looked at each other; she had a look of warm knowing to match my own look of nearly uncontrollable excitement; and we went on the dance floor, arm in arm, with Audrey and Jeremy following suit. We stood in the center of the floor, my arms around her waist, hers wrapped around my shoulders, and we danced. I felt her chest heaving softly on mine, her head in the space between my shoulder and my chest. I could smell her hair, rosemary and lavender. We spun slowly in our own little circle, and it seemed like time had stopped. I caught a glimpse of Jeremy, his head leaning over Audrey’s shoulder. He smiled and gave me the middle finger, the Hallmark Salute. I saluted him back, and it made everything feel right. I felt like taking Jessie’s head in my hands and kissing her slowly. I thought of what her lips would taste like, and I almost missed it when she whispered in my ear, “Thank you for everything, Bryce. You’re such a good friend.”