No, this isn't a proposal story -- but without this piece of the puzzle, we might never have gotten to where we are today! So, let me explain...
Midway through high school, I'd had it with boys. Vowing to avoid awkward moments henceforth (yup, that's all the detail you're getting) I threw myself into my studies. College visits, tours and applications marked the rapidly-passing months. Soon, I was waiting to hear from schools, and preparing for a hectic spring.
Hectic because, see, I was a self-confessed "choir dork," actively involved in the choral music program at my high school. The warmer months meant a musical, "Broadway Night" (all 300 singers in matching t-shirts on stage performing thematic medleys, like oldies and Disney) and a music trip (as an "off" year, we were just riding down to Virginia Beach).
Imagine my surprise while, in the midst of this craziness, I suddenly began "noticing" one of the juniors in my curricular choral group. And my intial reaction? Frustration at myself! (Why are you losing focus? You're graduating in a few months! Is this really worth it?)
Amazingly, reckless and daring Miss Bruschetta won out, and I found myself wandering up to said junior in the cafeteria during the final Broadway Night intermission. I asked for a private word, then spent way too much time looking at my hands, as I (gulp!) popped the question: "Will you come to the prom with me?" I don't remember his exact response -- my brain only processed that it was, in fact, affirmative.
Then -- and I still cringe at this -- I uttered the one query I actually mentally rehearsed beforehand, then swore I wouldn't speak aloud: "You will?" And yes, my voice got all squeaky and high-pitched at the end of the question. And yes, he was kind enough to repeat (and not alter) his answer. Utterly mortified, I popped up on my tiptoes for a quick hug (still thinking uhhh, what're you doin'?), and scurried away.
Embarrassment aside, I was pretty darn proud of myself. And although my prom date and I barely uttered a word to each other before the actual event -- most of out conversations coming the week before the prom by way of instant message over America Online -- we just...clicked. Logical Miss Bruschetta (who knew there were so many sides to me?) tried to protest (Ummm, hello?! You're going off to college in a matter of months!) but neither of us heard her. Flag Day marked our official beginning as Miss and Mr. Bruschetta, and we haven't looked back since.
17 and Baking Bad
3 years ago