1956

Patrick was the class nerd. He wasn't one of the boys who wore their hair slicked back all cool with suspenders and fancy leather penny loafers, and he wasn't one of the boys who wore football varsity jackets they wrapped around their girlfriends as they walked out of diners.

Patrick was a dork. He focused on studies, and pretty picture shows in Technicolor rather than anything else. Well, with the occasional rock and roll show. That was probably the most interesting thing about him.

You didn't stick In any particular clique. You were a social floater. Going about the different groups as you wished. Not a bad kid, but not too good either. A good wash of grey.

A note was slipped into your locker as you were moving about classes, from a secret admirer. Telling you to come to 'Lakers peninsula,' which was just a small oxbow shaped lake kids would sit in the middle of and make out, usually, at 6 PM after school.

Of course you went. You wanted to make out! It was fun! It was new! It was taboo. It was teenager. So, you walked out there after school, seeing little Patrick with his knees up, quickly standing up and brushing off his pants.

"H-hi..."