Kissing Jamie Ellings

How it started. Is that what you’re asking? Well, you could say it started out at birth if you wanted to be a technical asshole about it. The start of a story can be anywhere. For me though, it started out when I was seventeen and attending Cascade High School in Great Falls, MT. It was a four-story building that looked more like a huge office or government building than a school. In front of it was an astounding sea of vehicles.
My story doesn’t begin at the school. I merely mention it, because I had always wondered when I would grow up, and I had thought I had when I had begun high school. That was wrong. I can admit that.
One night, I was walking along this hill that overlooked the city. On the horizon, the sun would be melting into the Earth with hues of purple and pink. Great Falls had an energy I could never quite place my finger on. The trees, clouds, and even the Missouri River would change as night fell like subtle mist.
I would take these long walks and listen to music on my personal cassette player. The breeze would be like an angel’s touch on the back of my neck. It was moments like this that I felt truly alive, even though I hated school. It was like I mattered, and I wondered where God was.
I wondered how he sat on a pedestal, allowing the horrible things to happen in the world. How could a completely distant God care about this planet? Thinking or complaining about these things, often proves fruitless. I grew up believing in God. I still do. I have always depended on that, but, like most people, I usually have only talked to God when I have had a problem. I think it’s amazing how we only talk to some people when we need something.
My first day at Cascade High School scared me beyond, what I even thought, was possible. My folks had bought this house in the Riverside. All of the homes looked alike. They may have been different colors, but it was obvious that the same person had designed all of them, and had only moved things around or made them different colors to prevent boredom. However, Riverside was the last place I had ever lived where I had felt really happy. School had taught me one lesson that I have learned repeatedly, despite my own objections to it being true.
I learned that when people look at me, they do not understand. They have always looked at me as if I were weird or less than normal. People have always gone out of their way to point out how abnormal I am. All I have ever known is how unalike I am when compared to those around me. I have been pointed at, mocked, and even bullied, because, somewhere down the line, I always get perceived as something of an enigma.
Most kids at my high school clung to groups, which I didn’t fit into. I pretended like I didn’t care. So, I buried myself in books and stories. That’s when I began writing.
Don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t completely friendless. I wasn’t swimming in the sea of adolescence without company. That’s where I would like to start my story. However, I was alone.
I was sitting in this all-night diner off of 10th Avenue South on the other side of town. It was called Rory’s Diner, but I think it closed down a few years ago, which is a shame. They served a great cup of coffee.
I was writing a story. I have no clue what it was about. It may have even been poetry. I don’t know. I had a booth with all of my work spread on it.
It was raining outside, and the wind was blowing so hard that it sounded like thumps on the windows.
I saw a movement out of the corner of my eye, and the most cliché thing happened to me. Jamie Ellings was brushing her hair back after the wind had blown it everywhere on the trip from the car to the building. She looked around. She must have been waiting for someone. The waitress working at this hour was bored, and she was eager for something to do.
I couldn’t hear what was said, but Jamie shook her head.
Now Jamie Ellings was the paragon of teenage normalcy. She was a princess that every guy wanted to nail. She had dated Shawn King, the NFL-bound quarterback. Her grades were perfect. The only thing separating her from the cliché is that she wasn’t a cheerleader. Also, the fact that she was hot was undeniable.
Don’t confuse this, but I wasn’t staring at her, but I did watch her with an eye of mild contempt. To me, she defined high school conformity, joining her friends at laughing at me in gym class when I would throw a ball. I am not such a bad guy, but I do have an inherent lack of trust in people like Jamie Ellings. Why shouldn’t I?
She sat on the bench in the waiting area, and after fifteen minutes, or so, she put her hands in her face. I have no idea what I was thinking, but I made my way to the bathroom, even though I didn’t need to use it. When I had stepped out, she looked up at me. “Jamie Ellings. You okay?”
“Her make-up was smeared from crying, and her pale skin was even more so. She looked back up at me.
She let out a semi-disgusted sigh. “Kevin Gilmour. Not now.”
As strange as it sounds, my heart went out to her. “I was just wondering if you were okay.”
The look on her face made me feel like I was inflicting some terrible torture upon her.
What happened next was one of those events that is so out of character for me I still cannot explain it. It was one of those things that was against everything I stood for or thought. “You know, if you would like to join me until your—whoever you’re waiting for shows up.”
A tear streaked down her face. “What do you want?
“Nothing.” I shrugged. “You just looked upset.”
I turned away and took a seat back at my table. I had thought nothing of that, so I put my earphones on and continued what I had been doing.
Jamie had startled me as she tapped on my shoulder. “May I sit?”
I nodded and gestured at the seat across from me. “Sure. You okay?”
The waitress came by and offered her some coffee, but she didn’t have any money, but I ordered her some hot chocolate.
“So, Kevin, what are you doing here?”
I sipped from my newly refilled coffee. I came here for the coffee and write.”
She looked downward. “I’ve never been here before. I was supposed to meet my boyfriend.”
I sat back. “Shawn?”
She chuckled a bit. “Oh, no. We broke up last summer. We just show up together at things to save face.”
“The phony high school couple faking it for the sake of conformity?” I shook my head, but I was half-joking.
She had a hurt look on her face, and I felt bad.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by that.”
“Well, it’s the truth.” In that moment, I knew Jamie Ellings was anything but a cliché.
I sat without saying anything.
“I have been seeing this guy. He drives a truck, and I just found out he has a wife in Bozeman. I was supposed to meet him here, but I called him, and, I guess I found out.”
I regretted what I had said. “Well, I suppose, it could be worse.”
She laughed. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
I chuckled at my own joke. “The knight in shining armor, I guess. You know, a damsel in distress.”
She grinned for the first time that night. “Well, thank you.”
“Yeah. Don’t mention it.” I brushed it off with a one hand and looked out the window. “So, Jamie Ellings, what would all of your friends think of you sitting here with the like of me?”
She laughed. “It’s not like you have leprosy.”
“I wouldn’t know that. You haven’t said two cordial words to me since you first saw me.”
She frowned. “You don’t need to be mean.”
“Oh, no. I didn’t mean it like that.”
She cocked her head to one side. She stole a glance outside. “I guess, it’s school, you know? It’s like trying to prove myself everyday.”
I nodded.
Jamie took a sip from her chocolate. A small dollop of whipped cream stuck to her nose, and she quickly wiped it off. Her face turned a little pink. “I have to prove myself everyday. Jamie Ellings, the homecoming queen. Jamie Ellings, the yearbook editor, with her perfect grades.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Look, Kevin, everyone has all of these expectations of me that I can’t possibly reach. It’s like I’m killing myself.”
“Maybe you are. Why do it? I mean, if it makes you miserable?”
She laughed. “Okay. It’s that simple.”
“Sure it is. Look at me.”
“Oh, yippee, look at you. Most people think you’re psychotic or something.”
I smiled. “What can I say, I have an image to protect.”
She leaned in closer. “Kevin, to be honest, you’re a little creepy.”

We talked for a long time. It was one of those conversations that make you feel like you can trust a complete stranger. Like I said, the start of a story can be anywhere. I suppose this was mine, because with every turn of the clock since, Jamie Ellings and I have been inextricably connected.
“Refills, guys?” asked the waitress.
I shook my head. I had had enough. “So, I am a little creepy?”
Jamie held the warm cup to her lips with both hands giving her the look of a child-like innocence. The grayness in her eyes became less subtle as I stole glances into them. The sweetness in her voice and manner became softened. In one night, I think, I had fallen completely in love with Jamie Ellings. I hadn’t even known either.
I gathered up my notebooks. “Well, you need a ride back home or something?”
“Naw. I’ll manage. You’ve been too nice to me tonight.”
“Come on. I can’t leave you here.”
She smiled.
I paid the bill, and we stepped outside. “My trust Accord waits.”
Jamie laughed. “Oh, yes. I know. I think I have seen it.”
“What can I say, it gets me from A to B.”
“And I’ve heard it.”
We drove in silence down 15th Street, across the bridge, and past the smelter. The drops of rain pattering against the windshield became less frequent. As I pulled up to her house, she looked over at me. “Kevin. Thank you.”
“What for?”
“You were really nice to me. I know I haven’t been very good to you at school and stuff.”
I shrugged. “Damsel in distress remember?”
She smiled and touched her hand to my cheek. Its warmth was pure electricity. “I am sorry.”
“It’s all good.”
“No. No it’s not.” Her expression was grave. “I misjudged you.”
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe I am a little creepy.”
“Kevin.”
With both hands on the wheel, I looked straight ahead.
And she smiled. “Make you a deal. Friends? Just promise me you’ll never change who you are.”
“Okay.”
I watched her run from the car to the house. In that moment alone, with the softest of music, the rain stopped as if God was stepping out to have a look around. The veil of clouds obscuring the moonlight and stars dissipated like a fog on the horizon.
I couldn’t tell if the last few hours were a dream, but I drove home in deep contemplation.

My folk’s house was a little odd. It was a two-story home with a garage attached. The second floor had a door leading out onto the roof of the garage, which had a nice covered patio.
At three in the morning, I watched the lights of Great Falls (they do call it the Electric City), and I thought about Jamie Ellings. That night had set the stage for the rest of my life. One completely insignificant conversation turned into the defining moment on how I would perceive my life from that moment.
The day I met Jamie Ellings—the real Jamie Ellings, I would attempt to understand the complexities of growing up in a world in which social distinctions become more defined as one matures.