The First Time I Crashed a Party

I was not invited to Jalle’s Xmas Party.   Every year she would hold her party a week before Xmas break.  This was to allow the invitees to march around and talk about how wonderful the party was.

And of course, make those who hadn’t been invited feel like dirt.

Boys may prove their prowess by beating each other up.  Girls prove it by making other girls feel as if their hearts have been used for trampolines.

For the first two years of middle school, I read my book. I didn’t know there was a world out there.

My mother dressed me, packed my bag and I’d go to the bus stop and reach school, and go to the classroom I was supposed to be.

During lunch period I did my homework or volunteered in the library.

After class I came home, took off my clothes and went outside to play.   I could have been six instead of fourteen.

The other girls were into makeup, boyfriends, fashion, music.  I was into riding my bike, playing ball, modelling with clay, painting.

At the age of fourteen I began to appreciate that school about more than books.

Just about the same time I realised it, Jalle summoned me to her table in the cafeteria.   I couldn’t imagine why the class queen would call me.

Actually, she wanted to copy my science homework.

So what I would do is two versions.  The dumb Jalle kind, and the bright my kind.

I did this from the end of September until December.  People thought Jalle and I were friends.  As it boosted my status I played it to the hilt.

I began to use makeup, take an interest in style, listen to music, and become a teenager.

I knew, as December began, Jalle would not invite me to her party.  If I didn’t go, my status would plunge.

As I was friendly with her friends, I knew where and when and lied to my father.

I told him that I was going to Cindy’s house to study, and he should pick me up at ten p.m.

I used the house number two down from Jalle’s address as where he should fetch me.

I left with my bookbag, (with a pair of heels and stockings inside) wearing my dress as a blouse over jeans.

I dressed at Cindy’s house, did the makeup thing, and we were at Jalle’s place at 8 pm.

Jalle had not yet made her entrance.

I walked around as if I was the official greeter so everyone saw me.

When Jalle made her entrance at 8:30 I went into hiding.  I stayed as far from her as possible. I hid in the bathroom.  I moved around the edges of the room, I went out onto the veranda.  I popped back in at 9:15, got a drink and a snack, and back out.

I went back in for another piece of caked and was seen at about 9:30.

The look of horror on the faces of Jalle’s entourage was enough to scare ghosts.

I used the crowd to escape into the  maids bathroom, took off my heels, my stockings, pulled on my jeans, washed my face, and was on the road just past 9:45.

I moved two doors down from the party and waited. My father picked me up, carried me home.

Come Monday the big talk was “How Dare You!”

Now all anyone outside of the clique knew was that something happened between me and Jalle.

When questioned I would say, “I don’t want to discuss it.”

And after time, if someone came to me with, “I heard you crashed her Party…”   I would say;  “Oh?  Really?  Hmm.  Good story.”  I walk off with a smirk.

The upside of all this was that I kept my status of one of the cool girls into High School, and Jalle failed science.