Memory #142

In junior high one day, Byron Beck, a slightly chubby blonde boy I only knew a little, found me sitting alone at a lunch table. Joining me at the table, he told me he really liked me. He asked me if I wanted to go out with him and presented me with a tiny box of Whitman's Sampler Chocolates. "No!" I mumbled, unable even to look him in the eye. I threw the box of chocolates at him and ran away. I never spoke to Byron again. Years later, toward the end of high school, I had to stay late after school one day. I was calling my mom for a ride when a group of boys surrounded the phone booth and started rocking it and saying nasty things to me. Suddenly, one of the boys said, "We better leave her alone. She's Byron Beck's friend."