OH     MY     GOD   You gotta check out Biggins’ Package!  

Inez says to me in the morning before classes about the first young male teacher we had 
at Blessed Sacrament who favored tight fitting pants we affectionately called The Ball Huggers.

I’m thinking about this while walking down the hallway when I see him coming toward me 
the two of us alone together with no way to avoid him so I slow down with anticipation as he approaches and I’m hesitant about it but I got Inez in my head telling me to check out The Package and I’m preemptively embarrassed just thinking about it as It inches closer … closer …closer.

Do I have the cohones?  I wonder in Spanish then he smiles and says  Hey Schrammie! 
his nickname for me and with terrible timing   I  DO  IT   while he’s looking at me I drop 
my eyes and let them hover like a traffic news helicopter and stare at The Package pressed together by The Best Ball Huggers Ever because what else is a 13 year-old me gonna do when an unexpected package is cat walking the hallway just begging to be unwrapped?  

WOW   I think savoring the moment  She’s RIGHT the Package IS looking particularly savage this fine Monday morning  then I look up horrified to witness the slow smirk splitting his face and I swear he gives me a wink as a side dish to his shit-eating grin before he sashays his way back to teach history class leaving me open-jawed speechless.   

OH     MY     GOD   I just got BUSTED by BIGGINS checking out THE PACKAGE!  

I scream with mortified excitement to my friends while providing details at recess and add  
AND I THINK HE LIKED IT!  making them freak out harder and shout things like  Eww!         and  Holy Shit!  because  WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT WINK MEAN?  and for the next 
hour we unpack it together with bowed heads in a circle while eating cheese doodles amidst the sounds of jump ropes and kids playing tag.

Flash forward years later after Blessed Sacrament closes we’re at our reunion and I’m 
with my best friends greeting guests when Biggins walks in making me freeze on the steps compelled once again to check out The Package because my 8^th grade compulsion’s been activated. 

I greet him with a smile and say thank you for coming then lean in to give him a grown woman hug when the decorative pin in the middle of my chest holding my silky wrap dress together hooks his suit jacket attaching us to one another  FOR MINUTES.    

With his lips mere inches from my chin I feel The Package pulsing beneath me its heat reaching out so thrilled to see me and then with a seam splitting grin of a ballin’ champion raising the trophy for Best Package Ever it says with a wink and slow wag of its’ head  Hey there Schrammie gotcha again.

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