Her name was Lois, and it probably still is. She was the cute little red-headed girl in high school band, and I was shaped a lot like Charlie Brown. High school was in Seattle, and my senior year we took a band trip to Campbell River, BC. When I got on the bus there was only one seat left, and it was next to Lois. Amazing but true, she didn't seem to mind me sitting next to her.
By the time we got to Stanley Park in Vancouver (where we were going to give a concert in the outdoor band shell) she didn't mind my hand on her thigh.
When we got back to Seattle we were A Couple.
She lived about a mile from me, and I would ride my bicycle to her place. From there we might take the bus somewhere, go for a walk, or just hang around her house.
One day we walked up the hill to this vacant field, and she led me to the far side, away from the road, where there was an abandoned shelter which years ago has been where the newspapers were stacked, waiting to be picked up by the various kids who had paper routes. It wasn't much of a shelter, but it was Summer, and it hid us from view.
Just before she spread the blanket out on the grass, Lois said "You have taken Senior Health, haven't you?" I hadn't, but I said I'd taken it last summer. I didn't know why she asked, but it seemed like the right answer at the time.
Lois was wearing a red plaid skirt, a white blouse, and no panties. She invited me to explore while she "took a nap". I had no idea what to do. The more I "explored" the wetter it got down there, and having not had any sex education at all, it kind of grossed me out. The only thing I liked about the experience is she had bright red hair down there, which I thought was downright amazing. These were the days when Playboy airbrushed away all pubic hair, and that was my only source for pictures of naked women.
After about half an hour, Lois "woke up", and we walked back to her place. I got on my bike and rode home. A couple of days later I get a frantic phone call from Lois, asking me if we had done anything to cause her period to be late. I had no clue at all what she was talking about, so I said "no". She said maybe it was because she had fallen down the stairs, and hung up.
A day or two later she told me it was a false alarm, everything was fine. I still had no clue what she was talking about, but told her that was wonderful. We never went to the shed again, though.
I was a year ahead of her in school, and broke up with her at the end of the summer, just before it was time to go off to college. I rode my bike to her place, and told her I wouldn't be seeing her any more - college was a 90-minute bus ride away, there just wouldn't be time. She said something rude, like "what do you expect me to do - cry?", but I know I had not been Mr. Tact either. It came back to bite me the next month - turns out University starts a month after high school, and I was hired by my high school to teach the photo lab class for the month in between, and though she wasn't in that class, her best friend Mary was, so I saw Lois almost every day. But she had gotten over it, we were friends again by the time I started college.
I ran into Lois a couple of times while I was in college. She was working at the veterinarian's down the street from the high school, and planning on becoming a vet tech. I moved onto campus, and eventually we lost touch.
Many years passed. I was at my parents' house visiting, when Lois called. She was visiting too, visiting Mary, and wanted to know if I would double-date with them. So I joined her and Mary and Mary's beau de jour (or in Mary's case it might be beau de heure) and we went out to dinner together. It turned out Lois had been married, moved to Anacortes, had two sons, and had just filed for divorce.
And she wanted to find out "what if". What if her high school boyfriend *did* do that thing which would make her "late".
When we got back to Mary's place, we both found out.
And I remember the conversation afterwards.
"I'm afraid we made a mess of Mary's new sofa", she said. Then she looked at me and asked "was it worth waiting for?" I said, "Yes. And then some."