Patti Perkins lived up to the stereotype of the popular high school cheerleader. Thin, beautiful, shapely, and snobbish. She had a close circle of friends that shared those same qualities. Most people didn't measure up to their lofty standards of looks...or what they considered to be cool.
I was, quite simply, just a nerd. Straight A student, and somewhat of a loner. I did excel at golf, though. I was the best golfer on our high school team and already had been asked to join the junior college team for the next season.
Although my parents weren't well-to-do by any means, my dad loved golf and it became a frequent Saturday or Sunday family activity. That included my mother and my older sister.
I'm Scott Stephens, the son of Randy and Stella Stephens, and younger brother of Cindy Stephens. At the time of these series of events, in the winter of 1980, I was 18 and a high school senior, and Cindy was 22 and a college senior.
My dad was a mechanic that specialized in repairs of farm equipment and machinery. My mother worked part-time as a librarian at a nearby junior high school. Cindy was close to receiving her bachelor's degree and had designs on being an elementary school teacher.
Me? I've always been a history buff. World History, US History, History of Religions, and a special interest in US Civil War History. Like my sister, I was going to spend my first two years of college at the junior college less than a mile from our home, then finish at the large university on the opposite side of town, about 12 miles west of our home.
So, how did a nerdy nobody get so well acquainted with this hip cheerleader? One word: tutoring.
During our junior year, my US History teacher informed me that Patti's parents were willing to pay someone to help rescue her from her failing US History grades. She barely survived with a D in the first quarter of the school year and weren't happy with her.
That was my 2
nd
period class and Patti took the same class with the same curriculum during 6
th
period. I met her mother at the school and immediately liked her.
She was disappointed in her daughter's efforts and was hoping that I could help her with her studies, but also instill a desire in her to care more about her studies. The best part was that she lived only two streets down from me and since I had no transportation but to walk, it was convenient. I had tutored before in Math and English as well as helping elementary school students with reading, but this would be the first chance to tutor in History...and for a very pretty girl at that!
My time tutoring Patti also gave me time to get to know her parents, Thelma and Wayne Perkins. Patti had an older brother, Paul, that was ready to graduate from college. He had a future in banking ahead of him.
Wayne was a heavy equipment operator. He had been at his job for over 20 years. Thelma had been doing light bookkeeping, including some payroll, from her home for nearly 15 years.
Neither made great money, but it put food on the table and got their oldest son through two years of junior college, then two years of a four-year college. That was similar to what my parents had done with my older sister...and their plans for me.
Not only did I help Patti raise her 1
st
semester grade to a B-, but her 2
nd
semester grade was an A-. I also helped her understand why learning history was so important.
It also gave me an opportunity to get to know her better. At home, she would talk to me like an equal. I wasn't that uncool kid that her friends ignored. Sadly, at school, I was a stranger to her. I was simply referred to as "the tutor" to her friends.
Still, I had enjoyed the chance to know her parents. Also, our mothers got to meet a few times and became friends as well.
Although I refer to myself as a nerd, I really don't feel like that's an insult. I know it's used as an insult by others, but I wear it as a badge of honor. Besides, although I wasn't a big sports star in high school (other than golf), I wasn't some helpless little weakling.
I was almost 6 feet tall and although I had a very thin frame, I had learned how to fight and defend myself, thanks to my Uncle Jeff. Jeff, my dad's oldest brother, was an excellent boxer in his youth. I spent a lot of time in his garage with his punching bag and his assortment of light weights.
The purpose wasn't to make me a mean bully, but to help me use my skills to hopefully defuse a confrontation. If that didn't work, then use my boxing (and some much more limited martial arts knowledge) to defend myself and my family against aggressive behavior.
In my first 3 ½ years of high school, I never had a need for those skills. I went to school, did well, stayed out of trouble, then either went home or to the library.
While tutoring Patti in History, we learned an odd truth...our birthdays are exactly one day apart. She turned 18 on January 11
th
during her senior year, and I turned 18 the following day. It was only about 3 weeks later that the friendship was tested to the extreme.
Patti waited until her senior year to take an algebra class that was required to graduate. During the middle of the 1
st
quarter, Thelma called to see if I would be available to tutor again. She mentioned that money was a little tight and instead of the 4 dollars they were paying me each week, they could only afford 2...at least for the first couple of months.
I offered to do it for free. I liked them, and despite that Patti nearly pretended to not even know me at school, I did like her. I saw an insecure girl that was afraid to be herself in front of her "friends". At home, I believed that I saw more of the real Patti.
They refused to let me do it for free. The hours for Wayne had been cut temporarily, but it was important to them that Patti pass Algebra so she could graduate with her class. Besides, Wayne's company had a huge contract that began in February and he'd probably get more hours than he could handle...that is, on the days when the weather permitted. Then, they would go back to the previous wages for me.
That didn't matter. Every dollar that I got from my various tutoring jobs went into a fund (along with the hours I worked on Saturday nights at a nearby market stocking shelves) to buy me a car. I was still a couple hundred away from finding something that could be considered reliable for college.
On a Friday afternoon during the middle of February, things changed between us. I already had enough credits at mid-term to graduate. The only requirements left was to take another semester of P.E. and an Economics class.
I had joined a program in high school that allowed me to get credits for junior college. I spent the last two class periods each day as a Teacher's Assistant. I worked in Mr. Hayfield's US History class and Mrs. Gholz' English Literature class.
Essentially, I had a short morning with two classes. I'd go home for a couple of hours, or to the library, then come back to the school to work as an assistant. Not only did I get college credits, I also got 3 dollars per hour...or 6 dollars per day.
Walking home through the back of the school where there was an open gate that was only a block away from my home, I heard some girl screaming from behind the boy's locker room. All I heard was "stop it Michael" and "shit, you're hurting me."
I ran the next 100 feet until I saw that it was Patti that was screaming. Michael was some guy that I had never met, and he was standing behind her with his hands completely covering he breasts through her sweater. He had been squeezing them, and she had been squirming, trying to free herself.
"Stop it!" I yelled forcibly at him. "Get your fucking hands off her right now!"
Michael looked at me...angrily. "Go fuck yourself, you useless nerd. This isn't any of your business."
