FALLING

There she was, Melissa McKramer; Pretty, Perky, Popular, Perfect, and "property of" Warren Zepf; Quarterback. A bookish sophomore stood no chance at her heart and attention; I knew books rather than social signals and even I knew well enough to admire from afar, offer class notes from time-to-time, and barely even look her way if Zepf was in her immediate area, which was most of the time.

Then come "B-Lunch," Fourth Period's midcard lunch hour the Wednesday of October 11. I was at my usual mix-and-match lunch table of the other assorted undesirables when Melissa definitely did enter the cafeteria alone. I glanced up, scarcely believing that I was the only one who noticed. She then scanned the room, semi-desperately and laser focused her vision on her table; the jocks, other cheerleaders, and assorted movers and shakers in the social hierarchy of Cremson High. The Alpha Female, unaccompanied by Warren, made pleading eye-contact with her table; and got shunned for her efforts! I gasped where I sat, just as stunned by the behavior as by the fact that my fellow classmates were behaving like vacant, mindless NPCs begging for a programming command.

"Didn't you guys see?" I finally blurted out, glancing into the vacant faces of five other outcasts.

"Big game Friday night, yeah?" Robert Bastion asked.

"They're all big games around here!" Eloy Vargas retorted.

"But this is homecoming; homecoming!" Courtney Babel replied. "We should go; ooh, then we can hit the dance the next evening!"

Now Courtney was interested in football; and the next high school dance. This was eerie! Nevertheless, no one else addressed the critical shift in her personality. Then, wouldn't you know it, Melissa, having been turned away from her table, began to approach ours.

"Hey, RJ, can I talk to you a second?" she asked pleasantly.

Richard Jefferson Scot was being spoken to by Melissa McKramer. I glanced about at my tablemates for another reaction; anyone. Save for their continued sidebars about homecoming, they might as well have been pods!

"...It's kind of an emergency, Richie." Melissa pleaded bashfully.

...Where had my manners gone? It didn't matter if anyone else was paying her any mind; Melissa had spoken to me!

"Have a seat!" I blurted. "I mean, hi, Melissa; what can I do for you?"

Melissa twirled her brunette curls for a moment and flushed in the face.

"It's...oh, it's rather embarrassing, really, but...the dance, Saturday night; Warren and I will not be going together."

Suddenly Courtney was alive and well in the conversation.

"The dance; yeah! We should all hit that together!" she blurted as though we didn't have a guest in our midst.

Melissa was flustered by the side bar and I couldn't blame her.

"...Sure; we should all hit that together." Melissa reassured her (without knowing her by name). "But, R.J., I...well...would you go with me?"

I was practically knocked out of my seat from the fact that she felt the need to ask. When I didn't answer aloud right away, Melissa played with her hair one more time and looked down at me, the guy who took accurate class notes for her, with eyes of lingering hope.

"...I mean, if you wanted to go with your friend group here, I'd join; could you at least save me a dance, R.J. Scot?" she wheedled.

This wasn't right. The class princess was in obvious emotional pain; and had turned to me to remedy things for her. Furthermore, my lack of a direct answer straight away was confusing her into thinking me uninterested! I bucked social decorum between our castes and caressed Melissa McKramer by a hand. She took in the touch of my hand and gushed, impressed.

"Melissa McKramer," I blurted, "I would be honored to escort you to the Homecoming Da..."

"DWEEB!" shouted an all-too-familar, self-important bellow as the lunchroom seemed to shake with his heavy, angry strides to enter the scene.

...Of everyone to be acting normally right now, why did it have to be Warren Zepf? I pivoted in my seat as Melissa (with the better vantage point) sat back in her seat.

"...Warren, what are you doing here?" she demanded, acidly.

"That's what I meant to ask you; and YOU!" he shouted with an accusatory finger for me.

I brushed the finger away from my face as the last person to buck decorum and learn something new.

"I'm trying to heal a broken heart here!" I amended.

Warren broke character and stood down from my initial reaction. At least he was responding to something that was so out of the ordinary. However, he bounced back swimmingly and drew back a fist before lunging forward once more...

...I couldn't explain how it happened next that, with momentum, I managed to tackle Mr. Head Quarterback by his belt; but, then he was on the ground in the middle of the cafeteria. It was the final out-of-the-ordinary scenario of the day; and I was suddenly the class hero...