You were listening to baseball outside when your mother came out. She shielded her face with the newspaper, mercilessly reaching out and turning the radio right off.

" Yes? "

" See - You have a letter. " You checked the clock and sighed a very silent but overdramatic sigh. A letter on a Friday morning, why, that couldn't have been good news. Eyes trailing down to see who it was from, you soon realized that It was none other than Lee. Classic act, here returns Man of year.

LEEROY J. MARTINS 337 FAIRECREEK LANE

With his entire address written plain as day. It was a little confusing how stupid he was. He could've hand delivered a note if he wanted to, or even talked to you in person. If you hadn't run, that is... Haha. Your smile dropped instantly upon seeing your school photo cut out and taped at the top of the paper. A purple flower was hand-printed next to it.

Right under, there were lines of words;

'"Light is sweet; how pleasant to see a new day dawning." - Ecclesiastes 11:7 NLT

GOOD MORNING [NAME], It's me, Lee Martins. If I do recall, we went to [School] together. However, we've exchanged pleasantries plenty of times since then.'

What you felt for him was hardly pleasant.

'As you may know, I've been discussing marriage heavily with your mother and father, and have gotten thorough blessings. I'm a good man, very strong, soon to work in the armed forces.

I've had all of my shots, and I'm a well mannered, god-fearing gentleman. This I discussed as well with your parents, but I would like to take you as a date to the get-together at the Miriage this Friday night. I should pick you up at 7, after work for me. If you consider it, please let me know.

MY PHONE NUMBER IS 9XX-XXXX, My mother would be elated to finally speak to you.'

His penmanship... lack-thereof. It was plain striking. With each letter so close together and small, but each stroke dark and pronounced.. it was as if he had gripped the pen for dear life. This was no joke.

You tried to think; Had anyone acted like this to you in the past? Was this the product of a miscommunication..? First, the meetings and chats outside were shallow and inconvenient.. It was in your nature to choose each word very carefully to avoid a spat like this.

It seemed your admirer here was just immune to any of the vague, spiteful conversations you've said before, and that each new day meant that he should try his old tricks yet again. There just were no discernible hints or innuendos to be made. If anything, you were stark clear in your lack of interest. For him to ignore that, Well..! He should hear a few different words from you!

This whole ordeal led you to believe that he was a dramatic, reprobate man. And because of that, it'd be impossible to respect or love him the way he was pestering you for - Even if all of these things disappeared. (Him staring at you always, talking to your father so much he thought he was a salesman, sending you these... letters.) You would no doubt still just be able to smell the drama wafting off of his person like smoke.

" Hey, girly. " Your dad called from inside. Your mom was putting food on the table, in her own world. " Why don't you eat something before your little party? "

" Oh, [Father's Name]. A girl should never eat before she puts on a dress! "

You were already halfway into spooning some to your mouth, uncaring for whatever that entailed. " Well. You could always use my Spanx, dear. "

" Oh, I'll live. After all, I'm not wearing a tight dress. " And the food was actually good this time. In circumstances unforeseen, this tempered her. She rose her eyebrows and tilted her head as if you cursed her outwardly. Wasn't it the 'thing' to be modest? They were always getting on you for these quote unquote short shorts, but somehow a short, tight dress was just peachy. " Why don't you wear something, flattering? Form-fitting isn't a crime, honey. Just don't over-do it. "

" Ugggh. " This time you actually let out the most of your disinterest and finished eating altogether, preferring to reunite with your side of the house.

You hoped that college would take you far, far from this stuffy 50's - almost like 30's attitude your parents held onto. It was basically the end of 1965 and all they had for you was squabble about marriage and repopulation. It wasn't like humans were going extinct, either. So the world could definitely wait on you for children. For another twenty... thirty... hopefully forty years. Your mom would probably fry up like bacon if she heard you say that..

You went back outside to pick the letter up and tear it to pieces, sighing in defeat. If he took all that time to write upon this ignorant envelope and piece of paper thinking it'd work, you only felt sympathy. You almost regret being born, at-least then he'd have someone else to ogle at. And maybe they'd be ogling back. But since you were alive, it just had to be you.

~

When it came to getting dressed for outings, you were atleast somewhat knowledgeable. Obviously having parents ensured you were never able to walk out looking like anything.

And some colours you figured just went better with your skin tone than others. So when you looked at yourself in the mirror, it was fine to recognize that you weren't DAZZLING or IMMEASURABLE. Just tidy, and clean. Orderly was a word you'd never quite hear people call girls. It was only ever something about their eyes or hair, and in measurements of beauty. But presently you were done up in such a way that lacked that "exoticness" and "sensuality" that was bragged about so intensely.

Good.

This way was preferable. Maybe it'd keep men away. Being presentable and comfortable instead of beautiful was just fine. When you went downstairs to leave, your mom bit back her tongue. But again, her generation possessed a large lapse in acting skills. Her tongue was physically bit back by her teeth, resulting in a cartoony cringe-like expression that made her look frozen. You almost busted out laughing.

Surprisingly even your dad had gestured for you to carry a purse, but you didn't have anything to carry in it... So you didn't take it, only muttering a small, " Oh, thank you, but I'll just use Lori's. "

You took the pathway off your lawn and onto the sidewalk, and strolled all the way over to the aforementioned house. Many people in their twenties were roaming the streets, mostly with dates. The event center was a short drive away. And thanks to Marshall's dad, it'd be a nice ride over.

You rapped at the door, then folded your arms. It was still very warm out. What you had picked out wasn't necessarily boxy but it lacked much flare, and covered you very well. Too well. Fingers crossed for the night cooling everything down.

When the door opened, you were greeted with the makeuped versions of your friends.

" [Name]! " Lori pulled you inside and shut the door carefully, shielding a girl who was still in the midst of getting ready. Why, her house almost looked like a brothel. " [Name], Where's your clothes? "

" On me. This is what I'm going in. "

" That's it? Well, Aren't you going to do any makeup? "

It was tempting. Someone from beside you chimed in. " Oh Pleasssee let me do your face. I want to make your eyes pop. "

You shrugged, and sat where Dana was. " Just don't make me look like a clown, Please. "

You couldn't help it when she begged, it was so convincing. And what would a little blush do? Nothing at all. It was all neutral. But it was a very nervous time with her and her purples, blues and greens. Thankfully, she pulled out a different kind of makeup booklet, one that was very natural; There were a few swipes of very earthy toned powder all over your face. It was curious - How she figured out which shade to use.

To be fair her own makeup didn't look so good, but you know she always did Lorelei's too, and she looked fantastic. You picked up the mirror and looked around.

" Oh.. " It wasn't.. You don't know about it. It was mostly weird, a little bad. You wiped the leading cause for confusion off of your face (the green eyeshadow she smeared all over your lids) and was going to get the blush and lipstick too, but it was time to go. She also did something to your eyelashes to make them stand at end.

You stumbled out of the door with them, trying to stuff your inhibitions down. If you could forget what you looked like, you could survive for tonight. And it all wasn't that bad.

Tasha's hoop skirt puffed up from where she sat. The fozie look was so cute on her, but so funny to see still happening. As you climbed after, the car started. " When did you get your license? " You asked Marshall. He was a bible thumper, too. But he was an actual good boy. One that didn't sneak photos of you or succumb to being full of himself at all times.

" I got it last August. " He smiled over from the reverse mirror, his arm draped around Lorelei. You nodded and casted eye to the people outside. Thankfully the car pulled into the event center and parked within the mere 8 minutes.

" That was fast! " Dana opened her door with the same excitement as 3 yappy dogs. You swung yours shut and followed along, not quite waiting up for the others. Them and their little dates surely wanted to talk to eachother. Alone.

The event center itself was a room in pretty good condition. The wallpaper was painted in extravagant colours, with plenty of equally decorated tables and room to dance in the center. And of course, a stage for music. You all had arrived a little late, so the walk towards the empty tables was extremely silent. There was someone talking about some of the current affairs in the city - Mayor's daughters, farmer's crops, things of that nature. It reminded you of the school announcements long ago.

People didn't begin standing until the lights turned down and the music looked like it was going to start playing. It was a live band comprised of a handful of black men, all well in their ages. When they talked, people answered and cheered and soon the middle was stuck with people.

Dancing did not fray your nerves at all, so you had no trouble standing up. Plus, you wanted to hear their music.

- " We're going to be playing a little something for you called The Climb. You can dance to it, ladies and gentlemen, So feel free! "

You watched intently as they began singing and playing their instruments. It was a directional song - It told you how to dance with it. The only problem is, it looked like your partner was going to be the Martins' boy. He had unfortunately emerged from absolutely nowhere, and you didn't want to be ruder than you already had been. Dancing sure beat talking to him, anyway.

- -" Cheek to Cheek-

Ooh, Toe to Toe-."

You turned stiffly to face him for the first time since highschool. He definitely wasn't as dreamy as your Mom loafed about, not personally. He had cheeks that were red like a kid's - pinched, right in the middle. And his hair was styled so that his waves looked more or less straight. And he was wearing that cross, always. To avoid seeming interested, you kept your eyes glued to the floor. But you knew better, he'd always stare.

" Here's a Dance, you do on a dime.

~ Knees to knees-. "

You were hoping he didn't get closer.

" ~ Ooooh, Nose to Nose. "

He inched closer to your face as per the song, but surprisingly he didn't actually kiss you. Unlike most of the people here. Thank god he was some hard-necked christian. His hands, though, had reached out to grasp yours. Your hands were immediately trapped under his, and even when you tried to politely pull away, he kept them.

" Hardly move,

and you're doin' the, Climb! "

He was looking you deeply in the eye, faces not even a foot from eachother. There wasn't anything coming from his mouth, but you could tell what he wanted. His look of plea was just too much.

When the marching part came on and he had to let go of you, you slipped through the crowd to flee home.