We shared everything, went to movies together and always held hands. We went to dances together and always danced together, neither of us ever danced ...ith the boys. We walked home from school together and always held hands. And then we had a stupid fight and stopped talking to each other. This went on for weeks; our lockers were next to each other, but Lisa never approached hers if I was at mine. It was tearing me apart; I often cried at night because I had no one else – Lisa was my only. ‘My dad is right. You really are old fashioned.’ Stated this in a tone which was partly faux disappointment and partly mocking. ‘Your dad is always right. Remember that!’ he grinned back at her. ‘OK, Mr. Smarty, when are you going to properly ask me?’ she challenged. ‘After you and I have picked out a ring that you like.’ ‘Now you’re talking. How about tomorrow?’ She was determined to pin him down. ‘Well, that might be a bit difficult. Both of us are working. How about Saturday morning?’ He. More

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