I didn't know how old I was the first day I saw him. I could remember the day and everything about it, but it was like a day out of time. The first notable thing was that I had a new dress and my parents had fought about it. Mama had said I was old enough and it was the fashion, but Daddy didn't like that it came all the way up to just below my knees. It showed too much leg by far. He and Mama argued, which wasn't something they often did. Mama always acceded to his wishes, but this once she stood her ground and told him I wasn't going to be the only girl in school to be wearing old fashioned clothes so I'd be singled out and teased. It had happened to her and she wasn't going to allow it for me.
I got the dress and I got to wear it the very next day. I'd been proud of that dress and I'd walked with my head high, smiling at people I'd never looked up at before.
That was the day I saw HIM.
He was beautiful with his blonde curls and full lips. His broad shoulders filled out he black jacket he was wearing as he laughed with his friends. I knew by their look, by the way they dressed that they were the outcasts and thugs.
But he was so perfect.
I stood there staring until the bell rang, then I watched him and his friends pull out cigarettes and duck out a side door.
I daydreamed about him and watched him in the halls. I knew he was older, but I didn't know anything about him at all. He never once looked in my direction.
Until the day he did.
I was a junior then and I was sitting in class and the door was open, along with all the windows on an unusually hot day. All the girls who had them had even taken off their neckerchiefs, even though they were all the rage.
My desk was closest to the door, I was short and needed a front seat so I didn't have to try and see over someone in front of me.
I looked up at movement in the hall and he was there, walking and his eyes met mine and swept over me as he paused a moment.
In the middle of algebra, he walked right into class and took hold of the top of my desk, leaning in to put his face right in mine.
"Mr Albright, get out of my classroom!" Mr Timmons yelled loudly. "Get out right now or I'll see you expelled!"
"What's your name?" the boy asked me, ignoring the teacher.
"Cassidy?" I answered breathlessly, staring into his beautiful brown eyes.
"How old are you Cassidy?"
"Sixteen?"
He gave a nod, then smirked at me. "Then I'll see you in two years, baby."
Standing, he left the room and I sat there trembling and trying to gather myself.
Had that really just happened?
Albright. His last name was Albright. Why hadn't I asked HIS name?
Because I was terrified and flustered and completely brain dead as it was happening.
After that day, he watched me in the halls and gave me that smirk of his, but never talked to me again that year.
The next year, he wasn't at school, but I'd found out quickly that he worked at the filling station now and fixed cars. The first time Daddy pulled up to have his car filled, Albright winked at me with his grin.
As soon as we pulled away, Daddy started in. "Don't know why they have a punk like him working there! That used to be a good place with good Christian people. I don't care how good a mechanic he is, he's still a punk!"
"What did he do?" I asked, curious about this new development. Daddy knew who he was.
"What HASN'T he done? That boy's been arrested no less than 5 times for vandalism, loitering and damage to public property, him and his friends! They're a menace! And he's the ringleader! That boy needs to be put away for good! This town doesn't need punks like him!"
I looked back, but the filling station was long gone from view now.
"He used to go to school with me, but I didn't even know his name," I offered, hoping Daddy would say his name.
"Good! You don't even need to know about his sort! You have exactly the sort of friend a girl like you needs right now! Speaking of, I heard Jenny is in the church choir now, why don't you join her?"
"Because I couldn't sing if my life depended on it."
"I hear you sing all the time with your records and that awful music you play."
"It's rock and roll, Daddy, and it's fun. Just because I sing along doesn't mean I have a good voice, it just means I'm having fun."
"I catch you dancing like those fools I seen on the news, I'll break every record you have, then that record player!"
"Yes Daddy," I sighed.
"Martin, don't be too hard on her! All the kids her age listen to that music and it's harmless."
"Have you SEEN the way they're all dancing, Linda? It's vulgar is what it is!"
I sighed again and thought about him. I only knew his last name, so I thought of him as Albright.
We saw him almost every time we went to the filling station after that and he always smiled at me and winked when Daddy wasn't looking. I blushed every single time and wished I could speak to him.
It was winter when I saw him away from the filling station. Mama had run out of eggs and she needed some right away but Daddy wasn't home. I got to drive alone for the first time up to the store.
As I opened the case for eggs, he came around the corner, looking at the bottles of milk. I stared open mouth and his eyes shifted to me, then he grinned. Ignoring the milk and the eggs in my hand, he moved in close, backing me to the cooler behind me and putting his hand down on the ledge of it.
"Hey Cass. How old are you now, baby?"
"Seventeen?"
"How long till your birthday?"
"July?"
"July what?" he asked, cocking his head and running a grease stained thumb down my jaw.
"21st."
"July twenty first. Keep a countdown, baby. July 21st, you're mine," he called, stepping back and turning to get his milk.
I stared, then came to myself. "Wait! What... what's your name?"
He laughed then, his eyes lighting up as he stepped closer again. "What does your pop call me, baby?"
"Daddy? He... he calls you a punk, or a menace."
"Sounds about right," he smirked. "You can call me that, baby."
I stared after him as he left, still flustered and confused. I got all the way to the door before I remembered I had to pay for the eggs and hurried back.
That night, Daddy stormed into my room. "What's this I hear about that Albright punk putting his hands on you, Cass? Did he hurt you?"
"What? No! Who told you that?"
"Myrna Floyd called your mother as soon as she got home from the grocers! By now it's all over town that he laid hands on you!"
"No, Papa, he didn't hurt me. He... he said I had something on my cheek and wiped it off. That's all."
"Did you ask for his name?!? She said you stopped him and asked what his name was."
"I did..." I stammered. "It was only polite to thank him and learn his name."
"You stay away from that punk! He comes near you again, you come tell me right away so I can have him arrested! I mean it, Cass! You stay away from that boy, he's dangerous! I ought to go with my shotgun and tell him to stay away!"
"He didn't DO anything, Daddy, he was just being polite! It was the christian thing to do, to be kind even to those like him, isn't it?"
"You just stay away from him and his kind altogether! You see them you walk the other way!"
"Yes Daddy," I nodded, though I knew I was lying to his face. I wasn't going to walk away from him at all. He wasn't a punk, not to me. He was beautiful.
After that, Papa wouldn't let me go to the store for the rest of the winter. Not until spring came and his business picked up. He had to work later and Mama didn't like driving at all.
I found out that my Punk came in almost every morning before he went to work to get a coke and cigarettes. When he saw me in the store, he would come to where I was and look me over, then ask me how many more days.
I always knew the answer, I was counting down the days myself.
The day after school let out, Daddy came home ranting and raving about the local punks and what they'd all done to the teachers houses. "That Albright boy is behind it, I know it!" he yelled. He needs to be arrested and run out of this town for good! The sheriff won't do anything about him, says he has no proof of who did it, and it had to've been a whole gang of them because of how many houses were vandalized in such a short time. There may have been several of them doing it, but he's the ringleader!"
"Why would he do it?" I asked curiously. "He's not in school anymore, what does he care about it?"
"He's still a punk and people like him continue to torment the good people of this town, especially the ones who've always known what they were and let them know it! Every one of those teachers told him and his friends they were no good and wouldn't amount to anything! Anf they were right! Look at all of them! Albright has a nowhere dead end job, just like him and most his punk friends don't even work! What kind of man doesn't work? No kind, that's what. Just trash, all of them!"
He went on and on, all through dinner, but I stopped listening.
That May I graduated from school and for the first time I got to wear a kerchief tied around my ponytail. Daddy had said it looked ridiculous, those and neckerchiefs both. When he saw most the women at church wearing them, he finally relented and told me I could wear one, but only on my ponytail.
The Sunday after I graduated, Daddy surprised me by inviting David Harper over for dinner. David was four years older than I was and very active in the church. He had a smile that was like a line on his face, no lips at all and his glasses made his eyes look huge like he was constantly startled. He even talked like loud noises would bother him.
Daddy smiled and jollied him along, trying to get him to talk and get me to talk to him, but I stayed quiet and asked to be excused as soon as dinner was over.
The next Sunday it was John Riley, a farmboy whose parents went to our church. John spoke to me a lot more than David had, but I hardly spoke to him unless I was answering a question. Again, I asked to be excused quickly.
Two days later it was Emmett VanDenBurg, a man in his late twenties who worked at the bank. He pursed his lips as he looked me over and looked at my father like he was trying to sell him a lame horse.
Daddy invited more men over, but it was John who came most often, smiling at me and talking to me and inviting me to take a drive with him.
I put him off and put him off even though he was a handsome enough man with his brown wavy hair and nice blue eyes. He was always nice and polite, but he wasn't the one I dreamed about.
My Punk.