Memories Monday: Jeannine Garsee

It’s time for more memories this Monday morning! Woohoo! Today, Jeannine is going to tell us about her high school crush. Hehehe. Enjoy!



His name was Jonas. It wasn’t his real name, but it was the name he preferred.



He had dark, almond-shaped eyes, curly black hair, and a smile to die for.
He wore bell-bottomed jeans, a fringed suede vest, leather bracelets, and platform shoes.
He was slender, and elegant, and glided, not walked.
When he laughed, he snorted. I found that most endearing.
He loved Elton John and Liza Minnelli and Billie Holiday and anything Broadway.
He sang, played the guitar, and was a terrific actor and a straight-A student.



I couldn’t take my eyes off this guy. I’d take roundabout ways to my classes because I knew which halls he’d be walking down at certain times. I’d send him notes in the classes we shared. My heart would explode whenever he sent one back.



I’d call his house, although back in the 1970s it was considered borderline taboo for a girl to call a boy. I could listen to his voice for hours on end.
We both belonged to the drama club. When we gave a partial performance of “The Gingerbread Lady” I played Evy, an alcoholic singer, and Jonas played Jimmy. Though the character Jimmy, I learned later—this was NOT discussed in a 1971 drama class—was probably gay, Evy kisses him in one scene. Really kisses him.
Which means I got to kiss Jonas.
Really kiss him!



A friend snapped a Polaroid picture of our infamous lip-lock. It was just a kiss between two imaginary Neil Simon characters, and yet, at fifteen, it was the first time I’d been kissed.
And it was Jonas who kissed me.



Through high school, he’s almost all I thought about. No, he wasn’t my boyfriend. But he was definitely my first love.
My best friend had a crush on him, also. Too bad for both of us. Our friendship suffered, never mind that Jonas never thought of either of us as anything but friends.



I vowed to change that. I dreamed of Jonas and I running away together—to New York, perhaps, where he could make a name on Broadway and I’d become a best-selling author. We’d live in a loft, survive on Chinese takeout, and flourish among thousands of other desperately poor artists. Soooo romantic!
One night my mother attended one of our drama club performances. When I excitedly pointed Jonas out to her, she blanked out for a moment—and then she said, “That’s the guy you’ve been yammering about all this time?”



“Yes! Do you love him? Isn’t he fantastic?”



I gushed on and on, till my mother stopped me with, “Jeannine, he’s queer.”



My gushing halted like someone sliced off my head. The “old folks” still “queer” in those days, though “gay” was gaining popularity. The word rocked me to my very core.



Never one to beat around the bush, Mom teased, “Didn’t you ever wonder why he never asked you out?”



“He doesn’t date anyone,” I shot back, momentarily vindicated…and then it hit me.



No, Jonas didn’t date—anyone. He had a lot of friends who were girls, but no particular girlfriend. And now that I thought of it he had no male friends whatsoever. In fact, guys avoided him, leaving him surrounded by fawning girls, a fact that often made me seethe with jealousy.



“He’s not gay!” I argued when I could find my voice.
“Suit yourself,” Mom replied.



Crushed, I started to view Jonas in a different light. No guy friends at all. A multi-talented drama club geek. A rabid fan of Elton John, bordering on hero worship. A guy who sent flowers to Liza Minnelli when she appeared in town for a concert. Who glided, not walked. His wardrobe rocked. He didn’t date girls. And he was the sweetest guy alive.



But he kissed me, remember?
I couldn’t forget that kiss. Yeah, he’d been acting. But I’d wanted so badly, and for so long, for him to kiss me for real, I refused for the longest time to accept the truth.
I’d stare at my precious Polaroid night after night.



After a while, I hated it. I hated my mother for exposing my naivety and destroying my fantasy. Most of all, I hated myself for falling in love with someone who could never love me back.
Jonas never “came out” in high school. This was decades ago; people, especially kids, kept their gayness a secret because they’d be socially ostracized and relentlessly tormented—as, unfortunately, they still often are. If Jonas’s female friends knew he was gay—and I’m sure many of them weren’t as innocent as I’d been at the time—they never mentioned it.



They loved him.



I loved him more. And for a long time I was devastated.
After graduation, I never saw Jonas again. I heard through friends that he moved to California where he openly embraced his sexual orientation. Now, years later, being an author, I did what any other writer might do to celebrate, and remember, the first boy she ever loved.



I put him in a book.
Wherever you are, Jonas, if you’re reading this: I still have that picture of us.



Aww, Jeannine. Trust me, I know exactly how you felt. I’m sure most girls know how you felt. Thanks for sharing Jonas with us!! For those of you who want to know more about Jeannine, check out her website here.

Jeannine Garsee is the author of SAY THE WORD (Booklist’s 2010 Rainbow List and a YALSA 2010 Best Book for Young Adults) and BEFORE, AFTER, AND SOMEBODY IN BETWEEN (a 2008 NYPL Book for the Teen Age and a 2007 Borders Original Voice).