OUR LOVE STORY. PART ONE. STORY SEVEN.

ROAD RASH LOVE.

The Granthem boy and the Kennedy boy came by my house for a little visit. My parents weren’t home and as the rules went, besides never bringing home a Kennedy, no boys were allowed in the house when mom and dad weren’t home. We were all 16 and the Granthem boy was driving his VW Bug {it was the automobile of choice back then}. The Kennedy boy had a girlfriend, but still stopped by from time to time to chat and flirt a little. I loved every minute of it, never rubbing it in said girlfriend’s face, but keeping it a nice little secret.

The boys pulled up in front of my house and I ran out. They didn’t get out of the car, so I hopped on the nice sideboard of the VW to chat. With the window rolled down, I had my arms nicely hooked inside…ever so close to the Kennedy boy. As we talked and laughed, the Granthem boy thought it would be funny to go for a little drive with me on the sideboard. As he rounded the corner at the end of my street….I went flying off the sideboard and onto the asphalt. Forearms covering my face as I slide face down. The boys stopped to check me out…feeling pretty bad, but laughing like boys do to cover their stupidity, finding road rash on one of my forearms. They tried to help clean me up, but I just laughed with them, because that is what giddy girls do to try to look cool in front of the boy that she still likes. They drove away and I ran home, crying because it really did hurt.

Now, for the sake of love, and allowing me the chance to ever be in the Kennedy boy’s presence again I quickly came up with my cover. Thank goodness my Uncle Damon had spent quite a bit of time teaching me how to skateboard, even buying me my very first skateboard. “I fell while riding my skateboard,” I told my mom when she got home and saw my arm. I didn’t lie to my parents….ever….but this time was necessary. And besides, the sideboard of a VW Bug is just a little wider and longer than a skateboard, and covered with the same rubber grippy stuff, so I felt justified.

And that is the end of part one. The Kennedy boy and I finished high school dating different people. Graduated. And shortly thereafter got married....not to each other.



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