And they called it puppy love!
When the most beautiful girl in the entire eighth grade walked into my homeroom with Mrs. Marian LaRitz on the very first day of school, those were the lyrics — written by Paul Anka — swirling around in my head as imaginary little hearts fluttered about, making me weak in the knees.
It’s a good thing I was sitting down, or I might’ve faceplanted onto the shiny tile floor.
From the moment Belinda Cook sashayed into the brightly lit classroom, her brown locks cascading down her back, I couldn’t take my baby blues off her angelic complexion, which seemed to radiate with an ethereal beauty.
I was definitely struck by one of Cupid’s prickly arrows.
Just moments before this lovesick puppy saw the face of an angel, he was standing at the bottom of the stairwell in the northwest corner of Lincoln Junior-Senior High School with his boon companions — Robert “Robbie” Brough Jr. and Robert “Magsy” Magnifico — comparing class schedules.
“We only have three classes together this year,” I frowned.
“It would’ve been five if you had added chorus to your schedule, and didn’t have to take special gym,” assessed Robbie while doing his level best to turn my frown upside down.
“Look on the bright side,” Magsy chimed in, placing an arm around my shoulder to soften the first-day jitters. “Not only are we in the same homeroom again, but we also have our last class of the day together; so, it doesn’t get any better than that.”
“Don’t forget about lunch in the cafeteria,” I reminded them with the snap of my fingers.
“There’s those positive vibes lurking just below the surface,” Robbie added with a smile.
Our conversation was momentarily halted when the school bell rang out, thereby giving us — along with several other students — permission to climb the steps to our second-floor homeroom overlooking the open-air atrium in the center of the gargantuan red-brick building.
Immediately after the Language Arts teacher welcomed us to her classroom, it felt like a knife straight to the heart upon looking at the alphabetical seating chart posted on a nearby bulletin board, which separated these three musketeers.
“Parting is such sweet sorrow,” I quoted Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet to the redhead, as the top cop’s youngest son practically dragged me to the other side of the spacious room.
Not to be outdone by this budding thespian’s flair for the dramatic, the lad of Scottish descent extended his hand and responded with, “That I shall say good night till it be morrow.”
You giddy schoolgirls need to save it for musical tryouts in January.
“Oh, pish posh!” I quipped with a mischievous grin.
As the black-haired Italian attempted to invite me out for pizza with his family after the junior high football game on Wednesday, I was instantly drawn to the fair maiden who walked through the door, flashing her pearly whites.
The sights and sounds around me became a hazy mist, and I was momentarily transported to a rotating dance floor, likening myself to Prince Charming with Cinderella on my arm.
“Earth to Mark,” stated the gridiron gladiator, sitting to my right, as he slowly waved a hand in front of my glassy eyes to snap me out of a self-induced trance. “What in blue blazes are you staring at?”
“A vision of loveliness, who sat down at the desk directly behind Robbie.”
“Are you talking about Belinda Cook?” he questioned.
“Cookie,” I replied, shaking the cobwebs from my head to bring me back to reality after instantaneously giving her an endearing nickname.
“Watch yourself before you start drooling like a puppy in a butcher shop,” Magsy warned with a smirk.
Once the bell sounded announcing the class change for first period, I grabbed the would-be mafia boss by one of his belt loops on our way out into the congested hallway to tell him that I’d be honored to accompany the Magnifico family to dinner on Wednesday before going to Royal Rangers later that evening.
As soon as I returned to our lunch table following a chance encounter with the girl named for a freshly baked treat later that same day, my usual cohorts began to playfully needle me about being such a chivalrous gentleman at the tray return window.
“Well, isn’t that special,” quipped my fellow theatrical performer, fluttering his eyelids while pretending to toss his hair back dramatically. “I’ll bet your ‘purported starlet’ batted her eyelashes when you offered to throw away her scraps before tossing the compartmentalized tray to the dishwasher.”
“Now, don’t be jealous fellas!” I exclaimed, wagging a finger into the air.
“We’re in uncharted territory, because Markie Pooh has his first crush,” Alan Franz declared, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as the rest of the gang erupted into laughter.
“This is hardly my first crush,” I shot back, crossing my arms.
While asking for a show of hands as to how many of them had ever kissed a girl, two hands were raised to the ceiling tiles above our heads; but when I stipulated that it couldn’t include any female relatives, both of those hands immediately came down.
“For your information, I kissed a girl way back in second grade,” I retorted, raising an eyebrow in defiance.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that someone’s been holding out on us,” Shane Spielberg remarked, his eyebrows raised in mock suspicion.
“Spill it, cupcake, and don’t leave out any details,” Jeffrey “Jeff” Olinger prompted, leaning in with an eager grin from the opposite side of the table.
“Where should I begin?” I mused, a playful smirk creeping onto my face. “Sharon Wiggins gave me a Valentine’s Day card depicting Minnie Mouse kissing her one true love Mickey; and she put a real kiss in red lipstick on the back of the envelope.”
“Later that spring,” I continued as my counterparts clung to every word. “I played freeze tag with Sharon and her two best friends on the playground one afternoon; but she made up a new rule when it was my turn to be It—I could kiss the first girl I captured.”
“Due to my disability, I couldn’t run very fast; so, she let me catch her,” I added, a nostalgic smile playing on my lips.
And right there in front of half the school, I gave my second-grade sweetheart a big smooch on the cheek.
“Well, if it isn’t the Casanova of North Street!” the leader of the pack exclaimed, giving me a playful wink as the whole table burst into laughter.