Reluctant Diva 30
Inspired by Lipstick Discipline
Chapter 30 – At the hop
The second week of school marked the beginning of a new whirl of social activity for me. Mom hadn’t been best pleased when I told her about splitting up with Marty though I remained unsure whether it was merely because the decision hadn’t come from her. Since then I had been debating with myself if I had done the right thing. My life had been simplified but I would miss the fun times we had shared together. I was musing on this when Shirley broke in upon my thoughts. She asked me a question that presaged that my social life would soon be complicated beyond where it had been before.

“Are you going to the sock hop on Friday?”

We were sitting together after lunch and I looked at her blankly. I knew what a sock hop was, naturally, but wasn’t aware that there were any such events in the offing. I must have shown my puzzlement in my face.

“Wake up, you goof!” exclaimed Paula. “They’re going to start up the Friday night hops again now the gym is finished.”

Finally, I caught on. I hadn’t made the connection between the building’s recent completion and its potential impact on our recreational activities. For all of the previous year, the school gymnasium had been restricted in its use while it was being extended and refurbished. The student council had been unsuccessful in their attempts to persuade the principal to let it be used for dances. The loss was deeply felt as there was no community centre and most places outside of school charged a rental fee that kids couldn’t afford. Somehow teenagers in our town survived a whole year without school hops. Unthinkable! This year promised to be different as long as we obeyed the rules; no shoes on the gym floor (socks only, hence the name), no smoking, no alcohol, respect the chaperones and everyone in school invited. In practice the last rule applied to half the school. Our year and the one below would alternate with the older kids. If everyone in school had turned up at once there would literally have been no room.

“If I can find something to wear” I temporised. I made the attempt to sound more relaxed about it than I actually felt. The prospect of any sort of dance aroused mixed feelings in my breast. To get dressed up and go out was the pinnacle of enjoyment for me as much as for any teenage girl, but my anticipation of pleasure was mingled with anxiety. How would I be accepted and what source of humiliation might such an occasion have in store for me?

“Don’t be such a pooper!” exclaimed Shirley. “Of course you are going.”

I shrugged and smiled back at her. Once again it seemed I would have little choice in the matter.

“My auntie sent me a brand new poodle skirt last month” Paula declared smugly. “It’s a proper one in felt.” Her relation lived in a big city on the coast. Such fashionable items of dress weren’t available in the stores in our little town.

“Lucky you” complained her friend. “My mom made mine. I’ve got three and they’re all off the same old pattern, and in cotton!”

“Oh, I think your mother is wonderful. Your clothes always look so professional.” The other’s reassurance restored some of the leader of our group’s equanimity and she looked a little better pleased.

I came away from this conversation with plenty of food for thought. It distracted me for the rest of the afternoon and occupied my mind all through the ride home. The inevitable conclusion I reached was that I would have to enlist my parent’s help to prepare for the event, despite my instinctive reluctance. I knew I would be handing control over to my mother in a area which could demand more delicate treatment than it would be likely to receive and that was assuming I would be allowed to go at all.

Surprisingly, Mom greeted my request to go dancing with enthusiasm. The disfavour with which I had been recently regarded was now completely forgotten, apparently. While many parents disapproved of these occasions as having immoral tendencies, my own clearly didn’t share their misgivings.

“Oh Jennifer, how lovely!” Her eyes were alive with delight over the prospect ahead of me. “I can remember my school dances so well. The things we got away with, you wouldn’t believe! Now, I wonder. Which lucky boy will you be swapping spit with?”

“Mom, please!”

“Don’t act so innocent. I know what you’re like. You just can’t resist anything in long pants!”

Trying to deflect my mother’s mind into a more helpful and healthy channel was proving difficult. “Mom! I need to know what I will wear. All my friends will be in skirts with petticoats and bobby socks. I haven’t anything like that. I don’t want to be a square.” What I really meant was to stand out as different.

My parent evidently read the thought behind my words. “Hmm. Well I can see that could be important. As to skirts, I’m sure you can order one from my catalogue, but it wouldn’t get here in time. Wait, I have an idea. What about the dress you last wore to the theatre. No-one at school will have seen it and with a petticoat underneath that would be ideal.”

I considered her suggestion thoughtfully while she went to retrieve her Sears catalogue from the bookshelf. The dress was a wonderful creation with as full a skirt as any. In reality it was much too dressy for a school dance, but provided I covered up the top with a cardigan it might be okay. I felt happy about getting the chance to wear it again. Meanwhile, leafing eagerly through the pages, Mom found what she was looking for.

Emblazoned across the page she showed me were a variety of layered underskirts in a wide range of styles and materials. All of them promised to provide the dramatic silhouette which was then so fashionable.

Mom was triumphant “I’ll call at their downtown store in my lunch-break tomorrow. They will be sure to have some of these in stock.”

As promised, the following evening my parent returned home with not one but two parcels. I was half-way through changing for work when she entered my room excitedly.
“Oh Jennifer, you are going to just adore these!” she crooned rapturously. “Quickly now try this one first.”

The petticoat Mom showed me was attached to its own waist-cinching corset. When it was fastened around me and laced up, I realised ruefully that there would be no escape from its constricting grip. My mother enthused about the resulting shape it had given me while I looked hopefully at her other purchase. I could see that its waistline was formed by a plain band of material which would be infinitely more comfortable.

“That one is so pretty. I think I prefer it.”

The petticoat was adorned with embroidery and yards and yards of exquisite lace. I hoped that my winning smile would be persuasive, but my attempt to choose was brushed aside.

“Yes, I know. I couldn’t resist it either. You can wear it over the one you’ve got on. Under that dress the two of these are really going to make a statement!”

Ignoring the thought that making a statement was at the bottom of my priorities when it came to an evening out in public, she helped me into the second petticoat over the top of the first and then the dress.

“Come downstairs and we’ll give it a twirl” she beamed.

Mom went down ahead of me and began to move the chairs out of the way to make a space. When the floor was judged to be sufficiently clear, she set an upbeat record going on the Victrola. I knew the rudimentary dance steps. Most of the girls at school had been practising some of the latest rock n roll dances at any opportunity and Shirley’s group had been no exception. I was surprised how much Mom seemed to be au fait with them as she took the lead. Wondering where she had found the opportunity to pick them up, I twirled and turned until my head was spinning, my skirts flying everywhere.

Dancing in all those frothy layers was exhilarating. Even my little brother stopped watching TV to gaze open-mouthed at the spectacle we were making. Mischievously I spun around even faster to make sure he had a free show! What was odd was that Tom didn’t seem to find the sight repulsive, but sat with his eyes glued to the top of my legs. I surmised that he might be growing up, although it still seemed strange that I should spark his interest. Weird!

When the song came to an end, Mom became practical. “You know, I think that the waist of this dress can come in a little more. I’ll resew the darts this evening while you are at work.” Then her exultant mood bubbled over again. “Good girl! That figure of yours is coming on amazingly well. You are really going to dazzle at that dance!”

Generally speaking, dazzling there or anywhere else was something I actually dreaded, but for the present I was caught up in the moment and made no objection. It would have made no difference if I had.

When Friday came around the eagerly anticipated hop was uppermost in the mind of every girl, it seemed. All the talk between and, to the teachers' displeasure, some of it during classes was of nothing else. I too was excited and while getting ready I couldn’t help fidgeting as my mother applied the finishing touches.

“Oh, keep still, do!” she muttered crossly, in the middle of arranging my hair. It was being put up for the occasion. When she had done I was delighted with the final result and gave my parent a grateful hug. The style made me appear a little older and what girl is ever happy to look her true age?

The weather was warm so I carried my cardigan and deposited it on the car seat, intending to put it on when we’d arrived at school. That proved to be a mistake. As we drew up the station wagon was surrounded by my excited friends. It was only after alighting and waving Mom goodbye that I remembered it, and by then my parent had driven away without drawing it to my attention. Too late! We made our way across to where everyone was standing in line waiting for the doors to open. After what seemed an eternity they did so and there was a mad rush inside. We were all intent on occupying our favoured corner, having first removed our shoes.

For most of us, dress was simple, as for a come-as-you-are party in our school clothes. The guys dressed in clean jeans and shirts or t-shirts, with the occasional jacket, while girls wore their mid-calf skirts with lots of petticoats. The aim was to look cool with their many layers swirling around on the dance floor. Alternatively they wore jeans and as tight as possible. Attired as I was, I knew I was overdressed by comparison with my peers. My satin party frock was underpinned by a set of the fullest frothiest underskirts imaginable and its neckline was cut far lower than I was comfortable with. Why did this always happen to me?!

That my concern wasn’t a product of my overheated imaginings was underlined by Shirley’s action. Before we entered she hastily removed the lettered jacket she wore over her t-shirt and wrapped it around me.

“Miss Baker will never let you in otherwise” she warned.

The said teacher was one of those on chaperone duty along with a handful of parents. After duly passing her eagle-eyed inspection however I was able to run on inside along with the rest of my friends, to my intense relief.

The music started playing and straight away we ‘girls’ hit the dance floor. Besides rock n roll we tried the lindy, the stomp and some east coast swing. It was such fun. Although Kyle and Peter were part of our circle it took a little time before they got the confidence to stand up with anyone. Ultimately the former plucked up the courage to ask Shirley, whereupon his friend paired off with Paula. After that the barriers came down and partners were swapped with increasing frequency.

Though I got to dance with the other girls, it was noticeable that guys were chary of asking me up. Some might have been aware of, and put off by, the ambiguity of my gender, but I felt safe that it wasn’t generally understood. I eventually surmised that the culprit was more likely to be the fanciness of dress I was wearing with its all too revealing bust-line. The boys were probably intimidated and none had enough confidence to take me, or so I rationalised.

After an hour of this amusement the others left the hall for a bathroom break and I tagged along. This was going to be trickier than usual for me. The staff toilet would be locked so I would have to resort to making use of the girls’ restroom. Shirley took charge however and made sure the coast was clear before I entered. With all my voluminous skirts, not to mention anything else, it took me longer than the others and they left me to wash up, safe in sole possession of the room. As I emerged I reckoned that the evening was going well and I tripped back towards the hall with a light heart.

Before I reached my destination a sound from one of the side corridors attracted my notice. Instinctively I knew that something wasn’t right, though doubtless I would have been better ignoring what I’d heard. Out of curiosity as much as concern I turned the corner and took a few steps in the direction of the noise. A group of four figures was silhouetted at the end and though the lighting was dim I recognised two of them. With sinking heart I made out of my nemesis of the previous year Lee Rafferty along with two of his cronies. With more dismay I recognised the diminutive person of Karen’s little brother Vernon. I had little doubt that he was be on the receiving end of the bullies’ unwelcome attentions.

I was as yet unseen and, in my stocking feet, unheard. I had the opportunity of retracing my steps unnoticed and leaving the little boy to his fate. I’m pleased to be able to claim that I gave the unworthy thought not even a second’s consideration. I had been in his position too often myself.

“Vernon! Is that you?” I called trying to keep a tremor out of my voice as I trotted down towards the group. “Thank the stars. Karen’s been looking all over for you.”

As I approached, it was some small relief to see that Lee’s huge buddy Abe wasn’t with the party. That might be one less mountain to climb. Lee turned to face me and the other two youths let go of their victim at my words. As I’d anticipated, his sister’s reputation as someone you didn't cross preceded her. Just the mention of her name was unsettling for them.

“Hurry now!” I chided.

Needing no second bidding, the first-year boy made good his escape. That left me with a small problem. How could I extricate myself and remain equally unharmed? Lee was regarding me with a sour expression on his face. There was only one route open and I took it.

“Well. What are you three staring at?”

They looked guiltily from one to another and I continued the attack. “I guess you have nothing better to do. I don’t suppose you even know how to dance.”

I turned on my heel contemptuously and stalked off leaving them standing there. However, whilst his companions remained dumbstruck, Lee was evidently stung to respond and after I’d taken a few paces he caught up with me

“I can dance. Want me to show you how?” He fell into step with me, leaving the other two far behind.
I tried giving him my unconcerned stare with the curl of the upper lip. The effect was remarkable. Completely out of the blue he grinned at me “I’m Lee. What’s your name?”

I couldn’t believe what I’d heard. I knew that I’d grown in more ways than one over the summer months and with make-up applied to the fullest and hair piled up I probably looked much older. He actually didn’t recognise me. The dim lighting probably helped and fortunately it enabled me to hide my shocked surprise.

By the time we reached the safety of the hall I’d recovered my poise. “Hi Lee. Glad to know you. I’m Jennifer.”

The lights were brighter here and my enemy took the opportunity to look me up and down. The result was in clearly in my favour!
“Hi Jennifer. Say. You’re a knock-out! Let’s hit the floor, doll!”

Without further hesitation my new companion took my hand and led me to the centre of the room. Any minute I expected the scales to fall from his eyes. Surely realisation as to who I was would sink in, but it never happened. The record machine started to play a fresh number and I found myself in motion. Lee was right. He knew how to dance!

I was launched into all the rock n roll moves I knew and then some. I don’t understand how my boobs didn’t burst out of the skimpy bodice of my dress. I was aware that my skirts were flying up above my waist and was thankful I’d chosen a plain full cut pair of panties to wear so that a degree of modesty was left to me. Though I’d never spun so fast in my life, my partner led the moves so well that it took little effort to keep up with him. His sense of time was about perfect and it was easy to follow him. A good partner makes dancing a delight and I was having a ball.

After three dances I needed a breather. Lee thanked me politely and led me back to my corner. I couldn’t believe that the school’s worst bully could be such a perfect gentleman! I gave a little bob to thank him in return. The eyes of Shirley and Paula were round as saucers and when he was safely out of earshot our suppressed mirth broke out in helpless giggles.

“You two looked good out there. Trust you to catch a dreamboat like that” the former whispered in my ear. “All the bad boys fall for you, don’t they?”

I passed it off but I guessed that there might be more truth in what she was hinting than I knew how to deal with. Before the evening ended Lee asked me to dance with him twice more. The final time he beckoned me to join him from the centre of the floor and as I stepped out towards him the rhythm of a slow number filled my ears. Oh no! This was something I had determined to avoid. It was too late and I had to surrender to being held tightly in a clinch for the entire duration of the song. Against all my expectations, however, my partner behaved very properly. His hands never strayed below my waist. For a bully he certainly had nice manners!

“Another?” he asked as the music heralded a second slow dance.

“Yes please” I found myself responding and once again I was treated like a lady.
A word of thanks and a peck on my cheek formed the conclusion of our time together. We parted with some relief on my part and, I have to admit, a tinge… well… more than a tinge… quite a lot... of disappointment. If we had got as far as “swapping spit” as my mom had so coarsely put it, I wouldn’t have minded at all!
Eww!
With a bully like Lee?
How could I even think that?!