The tragically leaning senior

Angela: I just like how he's always leaning. Against stuff. He leans great.

(from "My So-Called Life")

The other day I was struck by a memory of high school. A silly and sweet memory that I will now share with you.

I spent the first two years in high school crammed into a too-small building with my classmates. The school opened new facilities for my junior and senior years, and the old building is now used by my parish's middle school (the grade school is in the old middle school building, and the parish offices are in the old grade school building).

The space restrictions of our school building meant we had to compromise on many things. We often had to walk across the parking lot to get to classrooms stashed in empty rooms in the basement or community center, so we always carried our backpacks (which were not clear, by the way, nor do they have to be now, but they have to stay in the lockers). We also had to carry our backpacks because of another reason.

We shared lockers.

Yes, little skinny lockers. There were two of us to a locker, and sometimes the school threw three people to a locker, I think.

Anyway, sophomore year, I was sharing a locker with Jenny M. (assigned alphabetically), which was great because we got along famously. Our locker was at the end of a bank of lockers that was next to classroom 107 (I think). Jenny and I were so enamored by our status as locker partners that we referred to each other as "locker partner." We did this all through high school, even when we moved schools and didn't have to share a locker anymore.

As we went through the year we noticed that one of the hot seniors had his homeroom next to our locker. He had all the aspects of a great senior boy crush -- super cute, and, well, that's about all we knew about him. (I'm sure we knew more, but it has been a long time since I've thought of this!) The crush that meant you didn't necessarily want to go out with him, but just looking at him was good enough.

Because he was a senior boy and therefore tired constantly, he started to take to leaning against the side of our locker before homeroom started. It should be noted that our homeroom met (and still meets) after 3rd period, so about 10:15 or so. He would hang out in the hallway with a bunch of his friends.

We took to calling him "the tragically leaning senior." I'm sure you know the look. The lackadaisical, devil may care look. He never seemed too happy, but always so temptingly "tragic." Now, I think we confused tragic with "tired," but hindsight, you know? He became part of our school day -- is he going to be standing against our locker today? Guys, I saw the tragically leaning senior today, he looked so cute.

One day, the day I remembered, Jenny and I both arrived to our locker at the end of the school day to find the tragically leaning senior leaning -gasp- against THE FRONT of our locker! He was literally blocking the access to our locker with his slim and cute frame! He was surrounded by friends! He was so hot!

Jenny and I were both speechless.

We should have stayed that way.

We looked at each other, in front of all these popular and cute senior boys, and exclaimed, exactly at the same time, "LOCKER PARTNER!" Those two words summed up everything about the monumental occasion. At least, they did to us. Looking back, and even looking back approximately 10 seconds after it happened, we realized how silly we sounded.

Soon after hearing our silly, sophomoric outburst, the tragically leaning senior and his friends disbursed, allowing us to access our locker.

And laugh. And laugh. And laugh.

It was a thing of legend. A wonderful day. "Can you believe we yelled 'Locker Partner'?" "He was leaning against THE FRONT OF OUR LOCKER!"

I'm not sure if he ever leaned against the front of our locker again. Once was probably enough for him, realizing that he had stumbled onto the locker of two sophomore lunatics.

But him thinking we were lunatics was worth the one, silly, legendary time we arrived to be dumbfounded by the tragically leaning senior leaning on our locker. I smiled when I happened to think about that day, the expressions on our faces as we looked, wide-eyed, at the object of our "affection."

I love those silly moments of high school. I had millions of them. It's funny the things you remember.